honeydippedwaffles

[honeydippedwaffles]

Fading Light

Summary: Tav changed in order to be with Astarion. She never minded adjusting her life to be with her vampire but the guilt he feels for taking her away from her life is only growing. Something has to give eventually.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.2k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

She’d always considered herself to be adaptable. She had to be, considering everything that had happened to her in the very recent past. From the moment she woke up on the awful mindflayer ship to the climax of it all, nothing had been a given. She’d been forced to change to save her friends so she had to be rather accepting of new situations.

It was why she had figured becoming nocturnal wouldn’t bother her much at all.

She’d hung dark curtains in her room to prevent the sun from waking her during the days. If she missed it, all she would do was wake up earlier and step out to watch it set before Astarion joined her for the night.

She didn’t mind living like that. Sometimes she missed things with her friends but she made the effort to see them and they responded kindly. She'd adapted.

But Astarion hated it.

He watched her wistfully when she made her way to the door during the sunlight hours – forced to leave early to pick up groceries or something while the merchants still sold their wares. He’d give her a kiss on the cheek and wish her well but she’d be a fool to miss his mood after.

She tried to bring it up and he artfully dodged around the idea. He’d always been far too good at avoiding topics.

The day it started getting worse started when she lost track of time early in the morning. She’d built a solid relationship with various traders and workers around the city. Those who knew things and could send her down the track to a potential cure if they came across it. Mostly what that meant was dealing with their ridiculous requests though.

Could you find my lost necklace (taken by his sister to pay off her gambling debts)? My daughter went missing, could you find her (she ran away to marry a hobgoblin, of all things)? Somebody’s stealing my goods, find them (rats).

This time though, they found the missing caravans by following the scent of rotted meat until they came across gnolls. They took barely any effort to get rid of but they’d set up their den in some old, crumbling houses.

And she could never pass down the opportunity to investigate.

The stone walls had been destroyed in a fire and, as she nosed around, she came across various herbs and poultices that promised this house may have been an apothecary’s stopover. Most of the stone walls had crumbled but a few stood and it was while she opened one of the drawers that she felt him creep up behind her.

His lips brushed against her throat, barely there but enough to send shivers of gooseflesh over her skin.

She tilted her head to the side in an invite and he nipped at the sensitive skin with a small chuckle. The chill of his breath over the shell of her ear drew an embarrassingly small sound from her throat. He muttered something she couldn’t quite hear and nipped at her earlobe with sharp fangs.

She fought the flush on her cheeks, turned around and kissed him. Iron lingered on his frozen lips as he pushed her against the walls. Her fingers crept up the front of his armour until she found purchase to pull him close.

No matter how often he kissed her, her heart raced just the same as it had that first time by the river. But he touched her with such reverence now; held her like he wanted to make sure she never left.

Not that she planned to.

She tilted her head back to draw a small gasp of air and he immediately fell on her throat; nipped at her collarbone and drew stuttered breaths from her lungs.

But the pulse of pleasure as his fingers skimmed her thighs quickly disappeared when she spotted the edge of the horizon beginning to lighten. The sun had begun to rise and they were still far from the city. They had to get moving soon.

She released her hold on his armour, her fingers aching from the grip she’d had. The slight concern pulsed in her veins and overthrew anything else. “We need to leave ‘Starion.”

“Aw,” he complained and looked up at her with a wicked glint in his eyes. The one that she knew she’d do anything for. “You weren’t scared of some dirt the other night,” he purred. “Are you worried about the gnolls judging us?”

She laughed and he took the opportunity to kiss her again. She moaned into his mouth as he eased his way past her lips. How easy it was to lose herself in him. She could spend the rest of her life in his arms and be perfectly happy but to do that, she needed him to not burn into ash.

She broke the kiss with every ounce of her willpower. “The sun’s coming up.”

He turned to look over his shoulder and an immediate distaste darkened his expression. “Right,” he said. “Forgot that sunrises are one of those things I’m not allowed to see anymore.”

He stepped away and she desperately wanted to draw him back. The sudden change in his mood hurt her though she knew she wasn’t the cause.

“We can continue when we get back to the house, if you want?” she offered.

Astarion nodded dismissively but the energy had disappeared into the air with her words. She knew he’d be in a poor mood for at least the rest of the day and she really couldn’t blame him. He’d grown to love the sun over their adventures. It had very nearly changed her decision at the end of it all.

Sometimes she wondered if there had been a way to keep him safe. She worried she hadn’t looked hard enough for the solution.

They hurried to get back to the city. Every ray that crept over the horizon sent another stab of fear into her heart. This area was exposed and once the sun made its appearance, hiding would be a difficult thing.

She almost tripped over the gnoll bodies before she remembered to grab something from the caravan to prove she found it. Even then, she had to leave half her pack behind and hope the various bandits in the area had enough self-preservation not to go sniffing around a den.

She didn’t really trust them to have the intelligence though. She’d had to go find enough of them for their worried friends.

Even with their half-sprinting, they nearly ran out of time and a soft ray caught Astarion’s arm as he ducked through the door, causing him to hiss in pain before he vanished into their house.

She paused in the frame, her attention turned to the sun in half anger and half admiration.

Though she’d adapted to being nocturnal, she did miss the sun. Though she may wish it stayed away so she could spend more time with Astarion outside, she couldn’t help but enjoy the warmth it left on her skin.

Strange how she’d never even appreciated how different life would be without it until she had to make the decision to stay away. It had been her choice but it was his curse. She hated to imagine how much he must miss being around in the daylight hours.

She stepped inside the dark house and closed the door firmly behind her. A few of the wall candles had been lit for her and so she made her way to their small library where he’d settled on one of the loveseats, his arm raw and his attention on the blank book in front of him.

“I’m sorry I lost track of time,” she said though she knew it wasn’t her fault.

She gathered the balm she now kept scattered around the house and gently began to treat the parts of the skin that had been touched. Thankfully, it looked like it wouldn’t blister this time.

“I keep forgetting,” he admitted. “Never thought I would.”

“We’ll just need to be more careful next time. I’ll go visit the merchant later today and see if this is the right caravan. He better pay me well for this.”

She didn’t mean in gold. No, she often traded her services for information on their products and their sources.

Astarion traced the line of her jaw with his fingers, tilted her head toward him and brushed his lips against her own. “You’ve been looking a little weaker than usual,” he mused. “I can’t help but wonder if maybe you’re missing the sun. I hear it’s important for most.”

“I see the sun enough,” she said. “If I needed to be out there more, I’ll just wake up earlier but the city is far too boring without you there.”

“Flatterer,” he said with a laugh she didn’t quite like.

When Astarion laughed properly, the corners of his eyes crinkled in the best way possible. She loved to kiss him on those marks and so she noticed when he laughed without them.

“We’ll find a solution eventually,” she said firmly.

“Well, I can’t say I’m too enthralled by the idea,” he admitted, his tone cooler. “The last two opportunities I had to walk in the sunlight ended up destroyed forever.”

Her blood chilled at the implication and her smoothing of the balm over his arm paused. “Those weren’t options,” she said after the silence stretched too long. “Either one meant you’d be sacrificing something of yourself.”

“Apparently,” he said. “But we don’t really know what would have happened unless you’ve turned into a psychic while I wasn’t looking.”

She’d always thought he appreciated how against his ascension she’d been. Even not knowing much about vampires, she had the idea that that type of power didn’t come without cost. He’d have been giving up more than just his curse in order to walk in the sun.

“Astarion��”

“But it’s fine,” he said. “I still have my soul so that I can stay trapped up in another house for the rest of my life. Except this time, I get to keep somebody else captive with me. Fun.”

She frowned and slowly retracted her touch on his arm. “I’m not trapped,” she said. “I can leave whenever I want to. I’m choosing to be here with you.”

“You’re choosing to be with me,” Astarion said as though she didn’t understand. “But I don’t think you’re choosing to live without the sun. If we could choose right now to make it possible to live a normal life with me, would you take it?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked. “Because it seems to me that you aren’t willingly giving up your daylight, you’re sacrificing it.”

She crossed her arms. “Even if it was a sacrifice, it’s my choice.”

“It shouldn’t be. Daylight compliments you too much. You have no idea how beautiful you look when sunshine dapples your skin and flushes your cheeks.” He smiled at her and she winced, knowing he meant to charm. “When I see you in the sun, I know I’m looking upon beauty itself.”

She wouldn’t be distracted by the ceaseless flattery. Not when she knew what he was implying with it.

“If you’re feeling caged up, we can always travel,” she said. “I’ll organise for somebody to watch the house and we can start exploring further than the city’s reach.”

She’d been wanting to stay in one place for a short while to recover from the incident with the mindflayers. It had been somewhat long enough, she figured, that she should be able to head out without worries. A couple of weeks of travel might even do her some good.

The others had been keeping an eye out for any information but they were busy with their own lives. Though maybe one or two of them might be willing to join for an adventure or two.

“There’s no point,” he said. “Darling, let’s not keep pretending we’re going to find a solution we like. Power comes from sacrifice.”

“Not of your soul,” she said. “Or of your mind. There’s a way.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m sure of it.”

Astarion stared at her for so long that she felt he might be trying to read her mind as they once were able to. Part of her missed that. She’d liked being able to understand what he wanted easily, even when he tried to hide it.

“Alright,” he said. “If you’re so sure, we can pack after you’ve rested. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’ll send a letter to Wyll so long,” she said and got up. She met his beautiful eyes and tried not to melt into them. “But just so you know, I’ve always loved the moon far more than I ever did the sun.”

In some ways, she expected it. Part of her knew, even as she drifted off to sleep and he pressed a small kiss to the side of her head. She fell asleep with her hands knotted tightly in the fabric of his shirt, as though it would be enough to keep him there no matter what.

When she woke up in the evening with her heavy curtains pulled aside and a fresh breeze blowing in through the windows, she didn’t need to check to know she wouldn’t find him in the house.

She did anyway. Walked from room to room with a blanket over her shoulders and a sinking heart and when she returned to the bedroom, she moved his pillow to see if a dagger still lay under it.

And seeing it missing was the final thing before the tears started to fall.

[honeydippedwaffles]

I've decided to try my hand at writing Harry Potter fanfic. It's a Marauder's era story so if you're at all interested, feel free to take a look.

In other news, I'm sorry for the lack of updates but I've finally gotten some time so I'll be getting back to actually playing BG3 and finish off some of my WIPs.

The next one should be a small one shot for Gale!

Why is the link appearing like that...

Anyway, I did it! I finished chapter one of a time-travel fix it featuring Barty Crouch Jr. as the main focus.

I love it. It's one of my most favourite things I have ever written and I'm going to keep updating it so please go and give it a read if it sounds interesting to you!

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop - Part 5

Summary: Tav is beginning to struggle with her fate and the Underdark really isn't helping with that. Astarion is... really bad at comforting people.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 3.1k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

The Underdark lingered on her skin uncomfortably. Not even the strongest glow of their torches helped her feel safe beneath the cave ceiling. She never realised how much she loved the sun until she couldn’t see it anymore.

Though the mushroom forests intrigued her, she couldn’t shake the fear of assassins, drows, and everything else. They lurked in the shadows and watched even when she tried to shake free.

But she had no choice. If this route truly turned out to be easier, she couldn’t keep her companions on the route through the mountain pass. Enough had already happened there during their brief visit and Lae’zel hadn’t been handling the betrayal of her fellow gith very well.

They simply had to find the path forward.

“So, do you actually know where you’re leading us or are we simply walking and hoping for the best?”

She gave Astarion a sharp look. Though she knew he only wanted to tease, the day really hadn’t been working in their favour. After being attacked by a beholder of all things and getting catapulted into a wall by an exploding mushroom, she really didn’t have time to listen to his complaints about everything else. The lack of sun, the array of strange creatures, the general darkness… she’d heard every comment.

“Halsin wouldn’t lie to us,” she reasoned. “It may be a maze but we’ll be able to find our way through even if we need to take some time to look around.”

“Will that be before Withers finishes decaying?”

She rolled her eyes and continued to lead them back to camp. Her only lead was the destroyed village not too far from where they’d set up. After a night’s rest, she planned on exploring there a little more.

But first, they needed to rest.

Once everybody disappeared back to their chosen spots, Astarion included, she finally took the moment’s break to head for a small stream. Blood and dirt washed away in the cool water as she took some time to finally breath. Her body still ached from being thrown into the wall but at least she could distract her mind.

Every day that passed, they crept closer to becoming mind flayers. She’d started struggling to sleep for fear of waking up with tentacles sprouting from her mouth and her jaw dislocating.

Not to mention, she felt incredibly weary of the strange dream visitor who kept encouraging her to consume tadpoles like potions.

“You should avoid wandering off by yourself, my dear. There are plenty of critters who I’m sure are dying to take a bite of you.”

She jumped a little but Astarion’s casual demeanour soothed her somewhat. He appeared mostly clean of blood – the Underdark suited his fighting style well – so she imagined he hadn’t followed her to wash.

“I’ll be alright,” she reassured.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t like a little company to watch your back?”

She chuckled, somewhat uncertain still. “It depends. Are you going to complain about everything or will you sit there and look pretty.”

He preened under the casual praise and found a rock to lean against. “I’m always gorgeous. It isn’t much of a challenge.”

She suspected Astarion came through to ensure she remained safe. Despite his usual blasé attitude towards most of the group, he’d become more protective of late and even checked on Shadowheart after she’d taken a nasty sword wound across her leg.

Honestly, she’d be impressed if she wasn’t so worried about everything.

She continued to wash the last of the blood from her hair before she straightened. The droplets chilled her skin where they fell over her back and face and she shivered. She really missed the sun.

And then she turned and he was right there.

His fingers danced over her neck before he caught her jaw and led her into a soft kiss. Her breath caught in her throat; her eyes fluttered closed. He trailed a hand over the front of the armour, dipped into all the embellishments and fastenings, and her heart pounded in response.

He made it far too easy to fall into him. He chased every thought from her mind as he split from her and fluttered kisses over the side of her neck.

“You shouldn’t run off like that by yourself,” he said. “Whatever would we do without you there.”

He’d paused so close to her pulse point. It said something about how he’d conditioned her to tilt her head further to the side and allowed him access to her throat.

“Have you eaten recently?”

“Why do you ask?” he murmured. “Are you offering?”

She never minded when he needed to feed from her. It had turned infrequent after the first few times and the blood loss caused her to nearly get disembowelled by a gnoll. Down in the Underdark, it may be dangerous but she supposed he had few other opportunities to feed.

“If you need it, I don’t mind,” she said. “But only what you need. My reflexes are vital in these fights.”

And he may as well eat from her while possible, she supposed. It wouldn’t matter much if they could be mind flayers the day after.

He made a pleased hum against her throat and she shuddered when his fangs brushed against sensitive skin. “You really spoil me. I’m going to have to make it up to you, no?”

“You don’t need to.”

“But I want to.” He pressed a kiss right over her pulse point. “I can’t possibly take your delicious blood from you without giving something in return. Especially if it makes you a little lightheaded the day after.” He placed another one just beneath her jaw. “Believe me when I say, you won’t regret this evening at all.”

She wanted to let him make good on his promises. After all, what would it matter if she could die at any moment. Not to mention how Gale’s new plans involved blowing himself up and that might kill not only him but everybody on the Sword Coast and she didn’t trust Mystra’s word at all.

“You’re overthinking something,” Astarion said. “Why don’t you focus on me? I’ll make it up to you for annoying you today.”

She stepped away, suddenly confused by what he meant. A flicker of irritation across his façade only confirmed her suspicions. “Is that what you’re trying to do?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to make you feel better.”

“Do you even know what’s upsetting me? It’s not you.”

“Well, that makes it all the better. I couldn’t be a more perfect distraction for you, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want you to be a distraction.”

His lip curled. “Why not?”

“Because you mean more to me than that,” she said, not sure how she could express it without offending him. “I want to make you happy as well and I can’t do that when my mind is elsewhere.”

He shook his head as though she’d said something wholly outlandish. “Well, you can always make me happy some other time. Isn’t that the point of this whole, more thing, hm? I’m here for you and all that?”

“No.”

He moved back into her space and ran his fingers down her cheek. “You’d rather I left you to wallow?”

“No,” she sighed. He was trying to find a reason. First, the offer of a thanks for the blood but when she hadn’t shown interest in that, then an apology for what he perceived as irritation. Now that he realised why she was upset, a distraction.

“You can stop being the hero for one moment,” he promised. “You can be selfish every now and then. After all, we’re growing close to the center of this cult, aren’t we? We have something to consider there. Instead of doing the ‘heroic’ thing… maybe there’s another option.”

Her brow furrowed and her eyes flickered to his. “What do you mean?”

“I know you always want to do the right thing, save the helpless orphan, pick up the puppy, slay the monster, all of that,” he said and the words sounded slightly bitter. “But maybe we can find another solution and take some of the influence for ourselves?”

“You want me to take over the Cult of the Absolute?” she asked, confused entirely by the direction of this conversation.

“At the very least, consider it.”

She shook her head. “The cult is kidnapping people and putting mind flayer parasites in their heads,” she argued. “I cannot let that continue. Whoever these people are, they are behaving far worse than any monster.”

He looked unimpressed. Had he really thought she would agree to take over a cult? She despised the Absolute for everything it had done to her and her companions though… well, Astarion so far felt only the positive effects of their affliction. It wouldn’t be beyond him to want to keep it.

“Well, you’ll still get to be the hero,” he finally said. “You can help save me from the worst of my curse.”

“You’re really trying your hardest,” she said. “One day, I’m going to start taking offense to the hero comments.” He’d been getting worse with it as time went on, especially after she offered assistance to groups like the myconids.

Astarion looked almost pleading as he gestured at what was around them. “It wouldn’t be the first time you gave a ‘monster’ a pass, would it?”

“Are you speaking about yourself? Or about the owl bear?”

“Well, I don’t think the owl bear has killed anybody. Yet. If anybody could tame that thing though, I’m sure it would be you.”

She crossed her arms. “Killing people isn’t what makes somebody a monster. I’ve done it myself.”

“Not unless you had no other option,” he scoffed. “I saw you try and speak to a gnoll to convince her to nicely leave you be.”

“Exactly but that’s no different to you? I mean, I suppose I don’t know what you do in the evenings but I wasn’t aware it was running around and murdering children. If we let the Cult of the Absolute continue, they’ll destroy everything.”

Astarion mimicked her pose, defensive and defiant. “Oh, I’ve made the decision plenty of times. Do you really think that when I led hundreds of poor, innocent souls back to Cazador, I didn’t choose? He always gave me the option. I could spend the night with him or I could prowl the streets. A decision I made time and time again.”

“Do you consider that a choice?”

“What else is it? I chose to go out, watched the crowds until I found the perfect soul to drag back to his mansion, knowing all the while that they would die.”

“And what was the alternative? Because from what you’ve told me about vampire lords, they’re not exactly the best company in the world. What option did you truly have where you wouldn’t suffer for your choice?”

He tensed and she already had her answer. Perhaps he did blind her somewhat but she understood the position he’d been placed in better than he thought. How could she hold survival against him? That was exactly what she was trying to do currently with this tadpole in her head.

“I’m not going to take over the Cult of the Absolute,” she said. “Yes, it might give me power but I don’t want anything like that. I just want to be free of this.”

She stepped away from the riverbank to find a log she could sit on and stare up at the cave ceiling. The people she’d met on this adventure had truly been amazing. In a way, she’d actually been having fun. But now it felt as though the end lingered nearby, just out of reach.

Astarion watched her and she waited, not sure what he would say. Eventually, he settled on something separate from the cult.

“You would have made for the easiest prey,” he said. “If I had met you in the first few decades, it would have been simple to get you back to him.”

She chuckled sadly. “I’m not sure how well that would have worked. I’m rather immune to your charms.”

He smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t have flirted with you at all. All I’d need to do is convince you that I was in danger and you needed to come help me. Just like that, you’d follow me anywhere.”

“Why only in the first few decades?”

“Well, after those, I stopped using any techniques other than the one that worked best.”

She pursed her lips together, unhappy. “I’ll have you know; I didn’t offer to help Halsin out. He chose to come with us.”

“Right, because normal people find a random bear in a goblin camp and choose to fight to the death for it.”

“Maybe I just hate goblins that much.”

She honestly never expected Halsin to join them on their path to Moonrise but she welcomed any assistance these days. He understood far more about these tadpoles than she did and she needed his expertise.

Still, perhaps Astarion was right. She’d have made for very easy prey if he tried to lure her away.

“Well then?” he asked and she looked up at him.

“Yes?”

“What do you want me to do if not distract you?”

She frowned at nothing in particular. She didn’t really want anything from him but she knew he wouldn’t accept it as an answer. He’d already helped so much just by being at her side while she simply spoke.

“Just be here,” she said. “That’s all I need. What do you want from me?”

The question slipped through before she could think it through, something she’d been wanting to know since the beginning but had always been too nervous to ask. What was it that he wanted from her? She didn’t know if she wanted to know the answer most of the time.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always asking what I want you to do for me,” she explained. “Now I want to know what you want from me. Protection? A meal? Sex?” She didn’t think it to be the latter. Astarion seemed to think of sex as something she wanted as opposed to him.

He hesitated, uncertain. “I… I want you to continue being you, I imagine? If there’s anybody out there who can solve our little predicament, I’d put good money on you and your ridiculously good fortune.”

She supposed she did occasionally have good luck but she also doubted it to be reason alone for his loyalty.

“Nothing else?”

She feared he’d confirm for her something she already knew – he hadn’t really meant anything. He kept trying to hard to give her what he thought she wanted, to make her happy, when he didn’t really care for her by herself. Perhaps he didn’t even know he was doing it.

“I suppose I want you to want me,” Astarion settled on after she’d wallowed for a few seconds. “I mean, everybody does but you’re the only one who I want to be interested in me. Most of the time, I shudder at the mere thought of somebody touching me but I’ve come to rather appreciate it with you.”

A flush rose to her cheeks and she fought to keep it away. “I suppose that’s a good thing.”

“I also want you to say my name more. I’ve grown rather fond of the way you say it when you’re irritated at me.”

She almost started laughing and, though she hated to admit it, she felt relieved to hear something as trivial as his name. Because if all he wanted was for her to say his name, she could easily manage that.

“It’d be a crime not to say a name as pretty as yours,” she teased. “Even when you’re whining.”

“I do not whine.”

“Yes, you do.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I also want you to compliment me more. I rather like what you have to say so you should feel free to spend some time with me and just talk or whatever. It’s a far better way to pass the time rather than eavesdropping on this strange group you’ve collected.”

He wanted her to be with him, then? In the same way she wanted to be with him. She didn’t know whether she should be relieved or saddened in how little he understood her wants when he mirrored them so closely.

“I’m not going to take over the cult,” she reiterated. “But I’m going to find a way for you to walk in the sun still so that I can continue to see you after all this is over.”

“Sounds like the kind of impossible thing only you could pull off.”

She laughed and she finally understood what she could do to help him get what she wanted. “I’ll find a way,” she said. “But for now, I’m going to focus on the three things I can do. Your name, compliments, and… well, just being there.”

“It sounds as though you’re trying to court me.”

“I am. I can’t do it properly now but maybe when we reach Baldur’s Gate, things will be easier.”

He laughed. “Oh no, you’re serious aren’t you. What are you, some kind of long-lost royal with ‘courting’?”

“You’re going to have to find out when we reach the city.”

Somewhere in the Underdark, something rumbled and she stood to look down the river to make sure it stayed far away. She doubted anything would attack her camp but she had to be sure. It felt like danger lurked around every corner and she refused to put her friends in trouble.

Because they were her friends, before anything else.

“You know, we don’t have to be more,” she said. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not attracted to you but if you want to just be friends, you’ll still get all the compliments and the safety. It doesn’t have to be anything else.”

He rolled his eyes again and stepped into her space. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “I don’t know how you managed to do it but you’ve captured my attention. I’m sure you won’t want to squander it.”

She certainly didn’t. When she lay on her back that night, thrown about in thoughts of transforming into a mind flayer, at least half of them spun instead with the vampire spawn who prowled around the camp and his awful attempts at comforting people.

Tag List: @voidinfernal, @mavix, @starved-kitten, @crowley--aziraphale, @zane2408, @umsolikeblog, @promptly-mercy

[honeydippedwaffles]

Request: Our Intertwined Fates

Request Information: A set of possibly two or three parts surrounding one my mutual's favourite, non-companion characters in the game: Rolan. This in a look at how Rolan and Tav's relationship builds over the course of the story from a friendship to something more.

Tav is not referred to by name.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.1k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

The scent of rust mingled awfully with the flowering bushes surrounding the grove. Something felt wrong about strolling into such a place with goblin blood still drying on her armour and the cling of an abduction over her shoulders.

She did so regardless, muscles strung tight from a battle nearly lost and an argument she could scarcely defuse. Who knew helping somebody out would cause such trouble.

“We’re off to a great start,” she said to nobody in particular. “Barely free of some wretched pod and already we’re wrapped up in another conflict.”

Her companions and her had crashed into this isolated area of coastline just the very morning they stumbled into this grove. How they’d managed to get themselves involved in whatever impossible argument was occurring between tieflings and druids escaped her understanding.

“This really isn’t our business,” she admitted to them when they looked at her. “But I suppose if we’re going there anyway, the least we can do is talk to the head druid? It won’t do any harm.”

She lied to herself like that sometimes.

If somebody asked her for help, she’d never been able to turn them down. Offering her assistance felt negligible in the grand scheme of things and this conflict really seemed to have a solution she could find. It would help also, to have the grove’s knowledge on her side.

Those excuses really didn’t feel genuine when the threat of a tadpole behind her eyes lingered.

Yet despite having it in mind, when she overheard an argument, she couldn’t help herself but stop to listen. The trio of tieflings sounded so irritated with one another as they fought about whether they should remain with the group or forge their own path to the city. A fight they’d clearly gone over before if the exasperation said anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we don’t even know these people. I’m not sticking my neck out for every person we come across. With my magic, we have nothing to fear about the path to Baldur’s Gate as long as we leave now.”

“Just because we don’t know them doesn’t mean we should abandon them here. What use are all our spells and blades if we don’t even use them to help people.”

She listened curiously, not planning on interjecting but also wondering about the goal of Baldur’s Gate. Some things unfortunately rarely changed and she couldn’t help but worry for this group. “Does Baldur’s Gate welcome tieflings at all?”

Her question directed itself at nobody in particular and yet, she must have spoken loud enough for them to hear as the three all turned to her with various expressions of disinterest or appreciation. She shifted uncomfortably beneath their gazes and smiled to show she hadn’t meant to get involved.

“More so than other cities,” one of the tieflings answered. “Perhaps they’ll stare but nobody will pull a blade out. It doesn’t really matter either way because I’ll be welcomed. You’re speaking to the recently accepted apprentice of the great wizard Lorroakan.”

Tall, haughty, and certainly pretty enough to be a wizard rather than a fighter, she could tell he had a great deal of trust in what he said.

Maybe even too much.

Lorroakan sounded familiar but she couldn’t place why it felt wrong. A wizard certainly but not one whose name carried very good rumours alongside it. She could share what she knew but to do so felt wrong and so she smiled.

“Congratulations,” she urged. “You must certainly be very talented to earn yourself such a grand apprenticeship.”

“I assure you, I am.”

“Then it sounds as though your help could be invaluable to these people who are blessed with neither magic nor fighting skill.” Her gaze drifted to where children and others attempted to spar with sloppily created training dummies. “Honestly, I believe they’ll need all the help they can get.”

He frowned; caught in the small trap she’d created through his own confidence. She felt a little bad for taking advantage of his arrogance but she hadn’t been lying when she commented on the tieflings.

They probably wouldn’t survive a day against the goblins.

“That’s what I’ve been saying. We have to stay and help.”

The wizard looked between her and the others before he threw his hands up in agitation. “Fine but if we end up rotting on a road because of this, it’ll all be your fault.”

He stormed off and she glanced awkwardly at the others. Perhaps she had overestimated their skills but she doubted their chances even more if they split from the group and tried to do it alone.

But if they died, the weight would never lift from her shoulders.

“Thank you for intervening. Rolan can get obnoxiously stubborn at times but he’s a good person. He’d have regretted choosing to leave later.”

She laughed awkwardly, unsure how to respond beyond offering her name as a means of introduction before hurrying off. They had so many problems to face, far more dangerous than even taking on a slew of unending goblins. Such a thing could wait until after the worm got removed.

One poisoning later and another child rescued and they took on the very task she’d tried to avoid, regardless of Astarion’s unimpressed complaints about it.

They ended up fighting through a, quite frankly, impossible number of goblins after rescuing a massive druid from the dungeons. Followed it with a battle against shadow druids who were disguising themselves as rats. And then still ended up standing exhausted at a party with the blood not fully washed from her hair.

As tired as she was, she couldn’t skulk away into her tent so early into the night. Everybody wanted to speak to her and she was now avoiding Lae’zel as best she could after the gith caught her off-guard with the strangest proposition she’d ever heard. Flattered, but uninterested, she looked around for help and eventually caught Lia’s eyes.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“Rolan’s going to put on a show for us,” Lia told her, excited and a little teasing. She, like many of the others, appeared a little tipsy as she gestured to her brother. “Watch.”

“Patience,” Rolan chided. “You have no respect for showmanship.”

“Performance issues,” Cal whispered to her and she laughed behind a palm despite the wizard’s glare.

After all the near misses with fireballs through the day though… well, she really hoped whatever magic he wanted to use involved snow or water. Anything she didn’t have to dodge.

He surprised her pleasantly with neither and the small cascade of dancing lights lit up the sky in pretty shades of blue. She’d seen children do similar magic when first learning of their abilities and it never failed to make her smile.

“He can also make them purple,” Cal told her proudly.

She politely clapped and tried to keep her expression supportive of the tiefling trio. Rolan had skill enough to make something of himself in Baldur’s Gate… if his tutor held up to his expectations.

And, of course, the group had to get there first but she had faith. Zevlor, if nobody else, looked well equipped to shield his group from danger.

“You’ll do brilliantly with the proper training,” she complimented when she noticed Rolan’s gaze hover over her for a second longer. “You can ask Gale about some spare scrolls we found while exploring. They may come in use during your travels.”

Rolan straightened his spine beneath the praise, pleased with his successful show. “I have no need for scrolls but I thank you for the offer.”

She laughed and raised her glass to him. “If you say so. The offer still stands.”

She bid the three siblings good luck with their further travel and stepped away to clear her head, finally seeing an opportunity to seek peace and quiet. The shadows provided some solace as she made her way into the forest.

When she came across a small clearing, she settled on a log. It had been a long day filled with unending waves of enemies and her eyes felt heavier than ever.

She’d almost drifted off when she heard footsteps behind her. Footsteps, clumsy and unused to stalking through the dark. At least she knew it not to be an assassin, she imagined.

Although she’d expected Karlach or Gale rather than the tiefling she saw.

“Rolan?” she asked, confused as to why the wizard had followed her and now hovered uncomfortably at the edge of the clearing.

“Lia made a very good point,” he said, straightening imaginary creases from his robes as he spoke. “Scrolls could be useful if we get into a situation where my magic is lacking.”

She frowned for a second before she remembered her offer and waved back at the party with a smile. “Oh, right. Those are with Gale or one of the others. I don’t know what spells they have but any magic is useful, right?”

“Obviously but they’re mainly for Lia’s peace of mind. I don’t think we’ll have any problems when I have my thunderwave to handle threats.”

She smiled. “I’m sure. Make certain to aim for the nearest cliff.”

A wince followed as she remembered shoving a goblin from one of the rafters earlier in the day. She hadn’t appreciated the crunch of bones or the smear of blood… she hadn’t cleared out a goblin camp before the day and it really didn’t suit her.

“With any hope, you’ll have no need of spells at all,” she said. “I think the path to Baldur’s Gate should be open.”

“If it wasn’t, I don’t think they’d be singing your praises so highly,” he scoffed.

He took a few seconds to place the strange jealousy in his voice as not related to handling the goblin camp but rather the heroism of it. Strange, she’d never thought of a battle as something to be envious of. She certainly left with a great deal of pain in her ribs to show for it and little else.

“Something wrong?” she asked, fixing him with a soft gaze.

Rolan shrugged but she noticed the way his tail flicked, irritated, back and forth. He watched everything besides herself, not truly meeting her eyes as he gazed around the clearing.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just hoping you haven’t given my siblings any ridiculous notions about going off and being a hero. They’re not the type to walk through a goblin camp with no problem.”

She smiled, understanding his concerns. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. It’s not about being a hero, it’s about giving help where it’s needed and… I suppose it was selfish too. I needed a healer and Halsin was my only option.”

“A healer?” he repeated, gaze lingering over her bruises. “Did he manage to fix whatever’s wrong with you?”

Her heart thudded a little and her stomach sank. He hadn’t been able to do anything for her. Halsin pointed her in a direction and promised to help but he couldn’t remove the tadpole from her head. Every day, she ended up closer than ever to becoming a creature from her worst nightmares and she could do nothing.

Honestly, it may have contributed more to her mood surrounding the party than the actual exhaustion had.

“No, then?” Rolan asked.

She shook her head and tried to shake free of the worries. “Unfortunately, my condition goes a bit beyond his talents but he did give me a way forward. We’re heading toward Moonrise Towers to look for answers.”

‘You don’t sound confident.”

“It’s hard to be sometimes,” she admitted. “But I don’t really have much of a choice in what I do next.”

He coughed, a little awkward as he shifted his weight from side to side. “Well, I mean you’re clearly more than capable of handling things. I’m sure getting to wherever will be easy enough for your little group of heroes.”

She laughed at the unexpected and strange praise. “Thank you, Rolan.”

He nodded and seemed about to turn around and leave so she stood and the movement momentarily froze him. She leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to cheek in thanks.

“You’re going to do great with your studies,” she said. “I’ll be sure to brag to everyone I know once your name becomes renowned.”

Somebody once told her tieflings couldn’t blush but she swore she saw colour darken the tops of his cheeks even in the dim light of the forest.

Taglist: @miwn8

[honeydippedwaffles]

Requests

Smallest Drop Part 5 is well on its way and looks like it may be the longest so far of the set which I'm very excited about. I'm also working on a small Gale piece because this wizard is stealing my heart.

This is also a short announcement because for a brief period, I'm going to do some Baldur's Gate requests if anybody's interested. I'll take some for around the next week or so just to intersperse into my writing when I need a break from my current piece.

If you have anything you want to see involving just about any character, feel free to drop me a request or two and thank you for all the support.

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop - Part 4

Summary: Tav isn't sure how honest she can be with Astarion when any form of genuine emotion startles him into running away from her while he tries to figure out what more they can share beyond sex.

There will be a part 5. Astarion needs to learn to handle this new situation.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.5k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

They walked on a knife’s edge. It remained clear as day to her even if Astarion held the title of least forthcoming person in the world. A minor miracle given she spent so much time of her time trying to work out what Shadowheart’s situation entailed.

But Astarion trusted her with almost nothing and she didn’t have any certainty it would change.

She accepted it. The only problem she found dogging her was she understood almost nothing about what he wanted.

His teasing was obvious; honey words with so much falsity, they could drown her if she let them. She may have accepted his offers to spend the night tangled together had it not been for his expressions. His heart wasn’t in it and so she thought that too came of lies and mere fun.

So, she turned him down with just as much laughter.

Wyll warned her about it before she realised for herself. He commented while they shared a drink and she waxed her usual poetry about Astarion’s eyes.

“You must be careful,” Wyll said. “I’ve known plenty of men like him and they hide their emotions well but it makes it no less real. He’s going to think you’re not interested in him anymore.”

“But after what happened the first time, he’s the one who didn’t have fun.”

“Doesn’t matter. In his mind, you slept together once and just became what? Flirtatious friends? Without any definition, he’s going to think you didn’t enjoy it or presume you found a replacement.”

“Oh, that’s not what the problem was and you know it.”

“I do but he doesn’t.”

She pouted over her wine.

The night had been memorable for sure: his words sweet and his technique perfect but something ripped her away from it. As good as he was, nothing felt real. He moved with practised ease, forgoing any playful teases or comments she expected and replaced them all with generic compliments about her body.

When his teeth sunk into her neck, sharp and icy as they had been the first time, she’d seen a little more of him. He slowed down, stopped overwhelming her with sensation, and just existed. But when he’d moved away and she moaned his name softly, it sent him spiralling straight back into the act again and the compliments returned to lines from a script.

But she wasn’t exactly about to go and tell him she didn’t have fun. It would be a lie either way. She just saw no reason to rush into it once more.

Not until she understood him a little better.

“Can you imagine what he’d say if I brought something like this up? The thought of it alone provides enough anxiety to keep me quiet.”

Wyll chuckled. “I’ll tell Karlach for you. I’m sure she’ll happily proclaim the situation to the entire camp and the next city over.”

She rolled her eyes and drank from her goblet. “Don’t you dare.”

Without any events like the party though, she saw no opportunity to bring the problem back up and instead just returned his flirtations in kind. It worried her but she could find it in herself to break their little game with a topic as sensitive as emotions. Those were some of Astarion’s least favourite things.

Yet Wyll’s prediction appeared doomed to fruition and late one evening after she retired to her tent, she found herself wholly unable to sleep thanks to incessant whispering.

Not from her own mind (thank the gods) but from the only other tent close enough to hear into.

“I know vampires have no need of rest,” she said after skulking over, arms crossed over her chest. “But if that infernal book doesn’t keep quiet, it will likely drive me to madness.”

Astarion’s eyes darted up to her, smiling over the top as though he had no realisation of what he’d been doing. She adored the way the torchlight flickered over his skin and humiliated herself with how quickly irritation waned under his gaze.

“My apologies,” he hummed. “I’m so close to uncovering its secrets. I couldn’t bear to put it down yet.”

Sometimes, she wondered if she made the right decision handing the book to him instead of Gale. Though the wizard may have consumed the weave within, she likely would worry a little less.

“What are you hoping to gain from reading it?”

He traced the outside cover thoughtfully. “Books like this always hold power. With how well-guarded this one is, I can’t imagine what secrets it contains.”

“Seems dangerous.”

“Aren’t we all?”

He tucked the book back into a chest in his tent and lounged backwards on his bedroll, gesturing for her to join him. She did, sitting close but not quite touching, cross-legged instead of sprawled over the ground as she did when she invited him to stargaze with her.

If she had been more awake, she’d probably worry about accidentally upsetting him in any way. His voice soothed her usually but now it only put her on edge.

The perfect smile, composed through masterful talent and designed to make her happy, graced his lips. She knew she likely fell for his falsities more often than she thought but he wouldn’t catch her now.

She sat up straighter and waited, allowing him to speak first.

Eventually he did with a dramatic gesture. “I’ve finally figured you out and I must say, you surprised me. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you?”

He laughed but she didn’t join. “Normally, I’m incredibly good at sensing when people have, shall we say, other interests, but you managed to keep it quiet for longer than I thought possible.”

“I’m not sure if it’s the sleep deprivation but I really need a better explanation.”

He sighed, put out by her naiveness perhaps. “I overheard a comment from our resident cleric and I learned why our late-night trysts have come to an end. A pity. They were the one thing I looked forward to with perpetual doom looming.”

Her blood ran cold and she sat up a little straighter. “What?”

Astarion smiled as though they were merely friends gossiping about her newest fling. “Don’t worry, I’m happy for you, you know. What we had was a great deal of fun but that’s really all it was. I think it’ll be good for you to find your footing with something a little more permanent.”

Unsure if she was still half-asleep or not, she shook her head to try and understand. “Was that all I was to you?” she asked. “Fun?”

“Oh no, not at all. I mean, you were a lot of fun, but I understand even the best entertainment can get boring when you find somebody else.”

“Who else could I be sleeping with?”

“I don’t know if it’s gone that far,” he said with a chuckle. “Wyll’s rather stuck in the past, in more ways than one. He seems the type to really hold himself to a standard for the first time.”

Wyll? She glanced towards his tent on instinct, confused by the comment. The Blade of Frontiers certainly got along brilliantly with her; they’d made fast friends between shared stories but she held as much physical attraction to him as she did towards any of the others.

Though admittedly he hadn’t offered to taste her sweat yet so that gave him a small edge over certain friends.

“Astarion,” she said, making sure she didn’t falter when he answered her with the cutest hum. “I’m not doing anything with Wyll. He’s my friend but nothing more and even if you were right… I don’t think there’s anybody I would choose over you.”

“What? Why?”

“You must be blind if you’ve missed how I look at you.”

“I mean, obviously I’ve noticed your interest. If you didn’t like me, it would say everything about your taste but we had our fun. I really don’t mind so long as I can keep all those delicious memories of the time we spent together.”

“I mind dating Wyll though?”

“Really? He’s handsome enough for a fiend, don’t you think? And he certain suits your whole hero complex.”

“Hero complex?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Don’t take it personally, darling. Everybody loves your whole commitment to doing good deeds and I’ve almost developed an immunity to it. Almost. Regardless, Wyll suits you awfully well. Your future could be written into the history books, legends of saving poor, innocent puppies and then, when you get bored of your domestic life… well, I’ll definitely never oppose a quick, dirty affair.”

Her mouth tasted bitter at the idea.

“Well, you can imagine your fantasy however you want but I’m not going to be sharing anything more than a bottle of wine with Wyll.”

He appeared genuinely irritated at her insistence. She’d noticed his habit of baring his fangs when something annoyed him, often wanting to gently touch them. Why did this matter so much at him?

“Oh,” he finally said. “Glad to have cleared it up. You may want to tell Shadowheart before she blurts it to the entire Sword Coast.”

Shadowheart likely said nothing of the sort. None of her companions missed the small flame she held for Astarion.

None except him, it would seem.

“Are you upset because we haven’t slept together recently?”

The question caught him off-guard but he recovered quickly, smiling a familiar coy smirk as he answered. “I do admit, I’ve been worried for your mental health. They say it’s very bad to sleep alone, you know.”

Okay, so it had been related. She’d hoped he realised by himself that she wasn’t trying to slight or disregard him.

“Is it important to you?”

His smirk faltered, incredulous and confused. “Is what important to me?”

She gestured at the space between them, trying to convey herself as clearly as she could. “Fun, or whatever you keep calling it. Is that like a super big thing for us to do?”

Maybe she could make it all about her for now. She could pretend the problem came from her side rather than admitting to the truth.

He looked incredibly bored when he answered. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“As great as you are at everything, I don’t know, I was thinking we could share a relationship that’s a little more than just fun.”

“More?”

“Unless you’re not comfortable with it.”

She had genuinely confused him and he took a few seconds to think about it, gaze drifting off and over her shoulder to something else. When he looked back at her, his expression was unreadable.

“We… we can try for more,” he said. “If you want. You know, if that’s what was keeping you from enjoying the finer things of life, you needed only to say. We could have started on this whole ‘more’ thing days ago and then you can enjoy all of me, guilt-free.”

“Strangely, I enjoy more about your company than how talented you are in other fields,” she said, sarcastic. “If all I wanted was sex, I could have ditched you lot in the first town and hired a brothel. The heavens know I have enough gold.”

He scoffed. “You wouldn’t have half of it if you didn’t have an uncanny knack for finding merchants who will buy your junk.”

“And I wouldn’t have half the junk I do if not for the rogue I drag to every chest,” she teased.

“Ah so it’s not because of my talents, it’s because you don’t know what a lockpick is.”

She would laugh if she didn’t fear he may genuinely think that to be a reason she wanted him around. He may have pushed aside their earlier conversation but the worries lingered in her mind.

She’d spent too many hours with this man to have him believe she didn’t genuinely just enjoy his personality. She’d sketched his laugh lines, listened to the way he teased their friends, dragged him closer to the group so he stopped hovering in the darkness.

“Astarion?” she said and she ran her fingers over the back of his hand so he’d look at her. “Is it really so hard to believe I drag you around to these places because I like spending time with you?”

He chuckled. “Of course not. Have you met me?”

“As long as you know.”

He tilted his head towards her, red eyes burning through her with an unreadable emotion. “It’s the type of noble thing you do. You collect all these crazy people from their situations to save them. They might not be helpful to you in the future but maybe you can be their hero.”

“What?”

“Come now, nobody else would gather this little ragtag group just because we share an eye infection.”

“The only person I can think of who might’ve needed saving is Gale and I didn’t really do it because I wanted to be a hero,” she said. “And I suppose I tried to help you but you asked for assistance first and I wasn’t about to abandon some random vampire in the sun.”

“Well, you didn’t know I was a vampire then.”

She hesitated. “I really did. The eyes could have been drow parent or something but the fangs and the scar really gave you away.”

He chuckled so she hoped her words didn’t offend him. She didn’t know how he even felt about appearing so obviously like a vampire. If his appearance didn’t give him away though, she’d known the second he grabbed her and she felt the chill of death on her skin.

His lack of ability to lie when they found the boar made it even more clear.

She wanted to lace their fingers together but he’d moved his hands away, not even fully focused on her. Something in their conversation had confused him more than he cared to admit.

“You really are beautiful,” she chose to say. “I think it every day when I look at you.”

“Obviously,” he said. “Though it wouldn’t hurt for you to say it a little more. I’ve only heard those words from your mouth about four times which is nowhere near enough.”

She laughed. “Well, you are stunning. I can appreciate it even without our midnight visits.”

He sighed dramatically. “You know, with how against sex you are, I’m going to start to think you didn’t enjoy yourself at all.”

“I did but I just know you didn’t.”

He went still and she cursed herself for the thoughtless comment. She’d gotten too used to defending herself to the others by pointing it out that she spoke without intending to.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I’ll never forget our night together. It was one of my favourites.”

Should she apologise? She wasn’t sure but before she could, he got up from his bedroll and smiled. After a moment of consideration, he pressed a light kiss to the side of her mouth awkwardly.

“Right,” he said. “I need to hunt before tomorrow. You should catch up on that rest.” And he left her alone, fingers brushing against the spot he kissed, wondering how she could fix this one.

Taglist: @cassiopeia-adaar , @yikes-buddy

[honeydippedwaffles]

Favourite

Summary: I wanted to explore Astarion's past a little deeper through writing and I hoped this would be a good way to do so. It will be a series and will eventually have a happy ending.

Content Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Torture

Word Count: 3.6k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

The longer time stretched on, the less and less he remembered about his time amongst the living. Flashes came back to him on the occasion: the sweetened scent of Guldathen nectar or the memory of flowers with their faces turned towards the morning sun.

From what he remembered of his family though, he had once been the favourite child. Lavished in praise and named after the night sky, he’d never felt poorly about being noticed. About being seen.

He loved being the centre of attention even amongst strangers. If he could catch an eye or an ear, his day felt complete.

In his new family (loath as he was to refer to it as such), he sought only the opposite.

If nothing else, Cazador taught him the value in being invisible.

After the pain of turning, the vile and wretched agony of his body twisting and morphing into a form he despised, came the darkness of the tomb. He couldn’t breathe. Not because the only air turned stagnant hours ago but because his lungs no longer moved on his command. No longer moved at all.

He punched his way through the lid after the darkness began to crawl down his burning throat. The sand clogged his mouth and stabbed into his eyes, wet and fresh.

It went on forever. He fought with every ounce of strength he could, convinced he may die a second time here. Every movement only revealed more.

He scratched and he dug until he punctured through the grass of the cemetery and dragged himself out onto the dew-touched ground. The dirt stuck under his nails, painful and uncomfortable, as he rolled onto his back.

Everything hurt. His muscles ached with a pain you only felt after having everything you knew distorted into a new form. Bones shouldn’t be able to burn in the way his did. Nothing about what happened could be labelled natural. Not now and not ever because he died.

But he hadn’t died here. No… he’d died in some piss-stained back alley with nothing but the agony in his chest for company.

He could remember the blows as they fell hard against his skin. Somebody stopped them, their words a momentary saving grace morphed into a skilfully articulated deal. Some part of his mind believed it had been a demon.

Later, he would wish he’d been correct.

The thirst burned worse than anything else. Its hunger slammed against his body and sent awful shivers through his limbs. He shook, reached for his mouth to cover it, and pulled his hand away in pain as teeth far sharper than the ones he knew sliced through his flesh.

He ran his tongue over them slowly but not carefully enough. A stab of fire shot through his mouth as he split the skin once more.

Those teeth brought everything back in horrific clarity. The promise of something to save him and a bite like ice into the side of his neck. Everything from then turned into mind-numbing screams but he knew he hadn’t been in the ground.

A vampire saved him. A vampire bit him.

Cazador Szarr arrived late even though the transformation couldn’t have taken all too long. He didn’t do well with being bored. Perhaps it was one of the reasons he bothered to turn Astarion at all. For the longest time, Astarion believed nothing else made sense.

He loomed like a marble statue in the graveyard, inhuman and cold. “It’s a right of passage,” he said. “To crawl your way from the grave. I don’t believe a spawn truly appreciates the gift they’ve been given until such an act has been done.”

Astarion looked at him then. Truly looked at him.

The red eyes and the foreboding presence made it impossible for anybody to imagine this man as anything but a monster. He lurked in the shadows as though they were his domain alone. He waited for a response but Astarion couldn’t give him one.

The pain in his throat rubbed his voice raw. He wanted something to sooth the hunger before it overwhelmed him. Something sweet lingered in the air and he twisted his head desperately to find it. His mouth watered.

“You must be starved,” Cazador said. “Pathetically so. If I let you feed now, I imagine you’d run right into the middle of the city. You’d latch onto the first poor soul you found and they would drive a stake through your heart before a single drop graced your throat.”

Astarion’s head swam. The hunger burned so great it didn’t sound like a poor deal so long as the pain stopped.

Cazador moved closer, his steps silent though he moved atop leaves and twigs alike. “Aren’t you lucky then, dear spawn, that you have a master who won’t allow you to get yourself killed a second time.”

If he could though… Astarion didn’t need to live. He needed to feed. He needed to bite into something and feel its lifeforce seep over his tongue. Life felt very unimportant in comparison to the promise of blood. Did he even have a life to trade for it anymore?

“Stand.”

And despite being exhausted, his body moved to comply with Cazador’s orders. It listened even if it ignored Astarion himself. The order clung to his shoulders as he stood, forcing his chest to keep moving from habit alone.

His lungs burned no matter how much air he dragged in.

Cazador walked around him like a butcher considering a cow for the slaughter. He took his time. Every languid step made the hunger worse. Minutes dragged past, each one harder to weather than the previous. Surely if this continued, death couldn’t be far away.

“You’re even weaker than I thought,” Cazador said with a sigh of pure disappointment.

Astarion winced at it, unsure why he felt such a stab of misery at not being able to please this creature before him. Not everybody liked him and most of them didn’t matter in the slightest.

Though sometimes they may attempt to beat you to death in a back alley for it.

“Tell me spawn, do you know how to hunt?”

And Astarion answered even if the words drove knives through the sides of his parched throat. The order didn’t give him the words, it only compelled him to speak. “I’ve only been hunting once before,” he said, offering the truth. “A friend attempted to show me how to track a boar though we didn’t manage to find it before dark.”

Cazador sighed and stopped his circling. He stood in front of Astarion now, looking far too pleased for his words. “I imagine I must learn to live with my bad decision making. It would seem I was too impulsive when I thought you would be useful.”

Astarion didn’t know what this man would consider to be useful. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“I can hardly have you alerting the public to a vampire spawn in their midst so you will have to feed on what’s already here.”

He looked around the graveyard, bathed in shades of grey with a single flickering lamppost at the entrance. The graves here had long since disappeared beneath the dying ivy; names forgotten to the city. A solitary tree stood guard at the far side, pieces of crumbled wall surrounding its roots.

There wasn’t anything to eat here. The dead no longer hosted visitors.

Cazador saw his confusion and waved his hand through the air. “Do you believe yourself too good for their blood, spawn?”

Astarion forced himself to speak even if it cut his dehydrated throat. “Whose?”

“The rats. Come now, I know spawn are hardly intelligent but the bite does grant you some enhanced senses, does it not? I’d hurry and catch one if I were you. The hunger only gets worse with time.”

Rats. Astarion could hear them if he focused, shuffling around the buildings. He had an infestation of the vile creatures in his home and could imagine nothing worse than eating one.

But whatever it was inside him now, it heard the command.

He tried to resist it but the uncomfortable feeling against his skin hurt more than the hunger itself. His muscles strained against his will, no longer his own to command but mere tools of the vampire who turned him. It lasted all of a second before he gave in.

If resisting turned pointless, he figured he may as well do as told until this hunger subsided. Once he caught a rat (and he shuddered at the notion of even touching one of those disgusting creatures), he’d prove his ability to hunt real blood.

He could taste them from here. This graveyard still lay within the city and he could feel the humans nearby. The pulse of their veins beat in his ears as he tried to scour the ground for rodents. How delicious it would be to sink his fangs deep into their throats, drink from their veins until he sated himself. He could scarcely think of anything else.

The rats scattered as he approached. Their senses could pick him up well before he noticed them. They darted through the foliage before he could grab for them, vanished under rocks and bricks even as he desperately grasped for their writhing forms.

He stood no chance as he grabbed for them. Not if he tried to sneak nor rush. They vanished from his grab and his hunger howled for it.

“I do hope you have one by the time I return,” Cazador said, his voice an awful reminder of his continued presence. “Otherwise, I imagine not being able to starve to death will be a curse of your eternal life.”

Frustration well in Astarion, hot and uncontrollable. Tears pricked at his eyes though he chased them away, anger and indignation burning in him. How dare this creature arrive and rip him from the clutches of death. How dare he deny him his one desire since becoming this monster. It would be far easier to catch a person than a rat.

Everybody still around at this time of night had enough drink to allow them to stumble free of the group. He could find one with ease.

Cazador had no right to steal him from his perfectly adequate life. Everything he’d built for himself would disappear into the daylight. A place he could no longer reach.

Yet his body refused to let him give up. Not when the order lingered in the back of his mind.

The rat he crept up on raised its head to look at him. In the dark, he tried to plead with it to stay still. Even a small creature, so lacking in what he truly wanted, could sooth the burn in his throat.

It shot away before he could snatch for it.

Humiliation rose its head, stronger than any hunger.

Astarion wanted to scream and maybe he would do just that. Yell and make enough of a fuss for the city guards to come looking. They could put an end to this immediately and maybe they would grant him the mercy of death, true death, since it slipped from his grasp.

When he heard his return, he turned to face the monster who condemned him to scrambling after vermin, ready to threaten such a reaction, and froze.

In his arms, Cazador escorted a woman.

Cheeks flushed with drink, she could hardly be conscious for how she fell against him, laughing. The vampire’s smile looked perfect, poised as he waited. Another rat scuttled by and Astarion’s body commanded him to try and catch it, anger and embarrassment welling in him as his nails only found dirt.

“Look spawn. Meals come so easily if you are at all competent. How unfortunate you appear to struggle with the simplest tasks.”

The woman looked between Cazador and Astarion. He could see how even in her drink-riddled fog, she recognised the dirt over his clothes and face. The slow connection she made in her brain.

She didn’t even have a second to scream.

Her body fell to the ground like a discarded doll, head twisted at an unnatural angle. Though her heart may have stopped, Astarion could still smell the blood in her veins. It pulsed sporadically as her heart tried to catch up with the rest of her dying body. Sweeter than any honey he’d tasted before. He ran his tongue over his fangs on instinct and hissed when the slice burned once more.

Cazador didn’t even look at her. He stepped over the body and Astarion straightened at his approach like a puppet pulled at the strings. No matter how he tried to fight it, he stood no chance.

“Come,” he said. “I will show you your new home.”

Astarion had a perfectly good home. He lived in one of the upper areas of the city with a modest garden he didn’t really care for and a small library. He didn’t need a new one.

The woman’s heart thudded its final beat, a strange gasp ripped from her throat as her body caught up. Her blood… it didn’t take such a little time to congeal. It would be ideal to feed upon her. To drink and drink and sooth the burn in his throat. Surely nobody cared to come looking for her now. It would take him but a second.

He tried to move towards her but his body felt stuck in place. No matter how desperate his hunger, nothing could stand against the order.

They left the graveyard with dirt still beneath his nails and a body wasting away on the floor.

The pain didn’t subside as they slipped through the shadows. Its agony tried to cripple them as they went; clouded his brain and permeated every thought. He wanted to scream, rage, cry and beg but he could do nothing.

He hardly recognised these streets though he’d walked them a hundred times before.

The Szarr Palace bore a façade as cruel and unyielding as its master’s. Great stone gargoyles stood guard at the gate like wardens before a cell. They watched Astarion as he struggled his way through the front doors, judgemental and cold. He shivered beneath their gaze.

And when those doors shut behind him, he felt their slam in his bones.

Cazador bothered not with candles. Nothing in his manor needed to be reminded of the sun and its warmth; they didn’t need the light to see and he saw no reason for pretence here.

Astarion stopped and waited for his next order, hating how his body moved without his permission. He could speak if not for the burning pain in his throat.

“I –“

“Silence.”

All opportunity to defend himself died over his tongue. Cazador sealed his jaw without even lifting a hand. How far did his influence go? This power he had… he controlled Astarion with simply intention alone. Whatever he wanted would happen.

Astarion had never been a stranger to hopelessness. He’d found it before when his endeavours failed and he changed paths, adjusted himself to continue despite the blockage. He’d prided himself on his adaptability and yet this turned his stomach to lead.

For once, he could see no solution. No way to charm himself free.

He trawled his mind for what little he knew about vampires and found nothing. His memories brought forth no answer but the simple: they couldn’t step into the sun and they subsisted off blood alone.

Immortal. The term tasted strange in his mouth. He felt so close to death with this agony in his chest.

“You have proven yourself rather pathetic,” Cazador said. “But you’re lucky for your master has always had a soft spot for the most worthless of creatures.” He sounded proud of himself as he spoke, as though he did a favour to those around him.

Astarion bristled at the implication. He’d been many things in his life but pathetic wasn’t one of them. His rage bit at the order keeping him silent, sharpened his tongue and shot an array of insults in his mind. Cazador smiled as though he could sense it.

“You clearly have no ability to catch food naturally so you’ll have to use other methods.”

Astarion had no idea what Cazador implied with such a comment but he swore to himself, he would find any loophole in these ridiculous orders and exploit it. He would not be used as some useless thrall.

He understood how men like this worked. The magistrates attracted them like flies to rotting meat. They always thought themselves smart but they always slipped up and allowed something through. Astarion knew he could find the way out if only he rid himself of this dogged hunger. Once his thoughts were unclouded, he’d find it before the day’s end.

Of this, he was sure.

His mind went back to the woman as she lay in the graveyard, dead and with no purpose. Feeding off her would at least have made her a sacrifice. Her blood would coat his mouth and clear away the agony – gift him the strength to understand more about his condition.

How much better was that than slowly rotting away in a forgotten cemetery where her family wouldn’t check? No, her blood could have been so much more.

Cazador shocked him away from the thoughts by grabbing his jaw roughly. His grip bruised as he twisted Astarion’s head from side to side, unyielding even as the elf attempted to pull himself away.

He scrambled to push against Cazador’s chest but his strength, weakened from the thirst and exertion of the night, stood no chance.

“Stop that.”

His arms dropped to his sides, worthless.

Cazador’s nails dug into his skin as he examined Astarion. “Yes, you may stand a chance yet. I might even come to prefer you to the others should you manage it right. I like my meals to arrive in pristine condition, you see, and if they’re warm, all the better. Too many spawn allow screams to echo through the halls or blood to spill over the floor.”

Astarion’s mouth twisted at the image. How many people had this vampire killed right under their noses? No rumours abounded about vampires in the city and yet one lived in the most prominent house there.

“I’m going to give you a chance to prove yourself worthy of my attention,” Cazador said. “You will lure prey to this house for me to feed on and, should you be successful, I may even allow you to eat.”

As much as he hated how dependent he’d become, the promise of something to sate his throat caught his attention.

How could he lure somebody here? With sweetened promises perhaps? Or he could find somebody drunk enough to not even need to provide a reason, as Cazador had earlier. Once they arrived, he’d be allowed to drink and then he’d find a solution for this situation.

“Unfortunately for you, it’s almost morning,” Cazador said. “A pity you weren’t more efficient with freeing yourself. Follow me.”

The room he was led to stood underground, like a dungeon with nothing but its walls and a single bucket of water. No windows and no furniture, it may as well have been a cave. Not even the spiders had bothered to take residence above the dusty floor. Astarion stepped in and Cazador closed the door.

The sound of it locking echoed off the bare brick.

Whatever orders had been given earlier faded and Astarion spoke simply to prove he could once more. It didn’t help the fire burning in his neck but he did it regardless because nothing stopped him.

He paced around the room until his legs burned and then sat down in the corner and tried to ignore the pressing darkness and tearing hunger.

When that didn’t work, he gave in and used the bucket of ice-cold water to get the dirt off his skin. Its freezing bite made him tremble in his destroyed clothing, realising for the first time how filthy it had become.

He stripped it off to wash and thought of the future. How he could endure this for a short while until he found the way to becoming a true vampire. There must be a path there else he saw no point in the species even continuing to exist at all. He just needed to figure it out then do it.

All the power he’d ever need could be in his grasp. Vampire lords were feared across the world for their strength and ferocity.

Soon, he thought as he cleaned the dirt from his fingernails.

Soon, he imagined as he ran his fingers over his sides and felt where injury had destroyed his bones and shattered his organs. Curse those gur. If he had simply waited for an escort then perhaps, he could be home now, enjoying an actual bath.

Ironic how some idiotic monster hunters were solely to blame for him becoming a monster at all.

He stared into the bucket of murky water and wondered if he should have a reflection in this light. Would it even show his face still? The only difference he could tell were the fangs but who knew what abhorrent thing he’d turned into.

The two bite marks in his neck were nearly enough to make him sick.

Day passed agonisingly slow. Perhaps Cazador left him down there for more than one evening. It felt as though he did. When every second passed with nothing more than burning pain to characterise it, it became impossible to tell.

He waited and he watched the door.

For what else could he possibly do.

Tags: @venus-wrts

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop Part 4 is well on its way and shaping up to be one of my favourite ones so far but it may take a few days more because I'm currently writing another Astarion-focused fanfic that takes a look at his time with Cazador, before the events of the game.

Thank you all for your support. It's greatly appreciated!

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop - Part 3

Summary: Tav knew she was falling for him in some ways but she didn't realise just how bad it had become until she got shot in the leg while killing a vampire hunter for him.

Meanwhile, Astarion really doesn't understand Tav and her strange solutions to problems and ignoring it really isn't working well.

I've already planned a part 4 because I'm addicted. Tav is not mentioned by name.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 3k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Though she tried her utmost to appreciate every environment they explored (if only because she would otherwise go crazy), she couldn’t find much she liked about the swamp. Not even with its sweetened flowers, warm sunlight, and strange sheep.

She was almost a thousand percent sure those were polymorphed humans but she refused to worry about them yet. Whatever had created them surely would reveal itself and for now, she focused on the bigger problem before her.

A monster hunter standing before her with a friendly smile on his face and a laugh echoing across the swamp as though he hadn’t threated one of her companions.

He may not know what he’d done but it put her on edge regardless.

She made sure not to look at Astarion, a subliminal concern in her. She refused to give too much attention in case it drew his gaze over to those glinting red eyes or faded but very obvious scars nestled against pale skin.

Instead, she stepped forward and demanded all the attention she could with a loud voice and a smile. “Sounds awfully boring,” she said. “To hunt one creature for so long and not make any progress. Hardly even a challenge or thrill to just slowly camp somewhere and wait.”

The hunter chuckled and she seethed. “The first thing you learn in my line of work is never underestimate your opponent. This spawn has been eluding me for quite some time.”

She tried to keep her expression neutral but struggled. Even in her best moods, she couldn’t hide what she thought and the anxiety in her chest was stronger than ever. Maybe he would think the worry in her face showcased a fear of the creature rather than of him.

“Only a spawn?” she asked. “Pity. Not like it’s a real vampire. There’s little glory to be had in such a hunt.”

He frowned at the accusation in her tone and raised an eyebrow, perhaps confused by the hostility in her voice.

Before he could answer though, Astarion drawled, “I don’t know. I’m sure a vampire spawn could still rip your throat out if he felt like it.”

She couldn’t help a slight smile. Though perhaps not happy, he didn’t sound nervous which meant they fight should be easy. Lae’zel, bored as she was, never complained about further bloodshed and undoubtedly this hunter had no experience facing a gith sword.

Her own bloodthirstiness surprised her. Rarely did she feel the desire to spill blood quite as intensely as she did now and no guilt followed. This man dared to threaten somebody she cared for and she immediately moved to murder.

She really needed to be careful of the strange hold Astarion had on her.

“He is right, unfortunately. They’re only weak when compared to their masters. During the day we have the advantage but when night falls, you will not find a more dangerous quarry.”

She pretended to wince. “Awful for somebody like you to hunt something so fierce when you appear barely able to fight one of these sheep. Should I not worry about one of these spawn creeping up on you when you least expect it?”

The hunter appeared thoroughly offended and Lae’zel snorted in what she had started to learn may be a laugh.

“Well, we’ve stayed alive so far so perhaps we can focus on that.” Astarion reminded her of a cat playing with a mouse. But the cat also hovered far away from the potential battle, uncertain.

“It’ll be safer for you to keep patrols at night,” the hunter warned. “Just in case it tries anything.”

“I don’t think I will.”

He tried to be friendly and helpful but now he simply frowned. She almost felt bad for turning rude and abrasive, noticed how her response made him a little more uncomfortable but not enough to reach for a weapon. Her hand however drifted closer to her blade.

Morals said she should provide him a false lead and send him on a wild chase far away from her party.

Her brain said he may be a threat. If he doubled back or found out about her deception, he could sneak into their camp and take Astarion before she noticed.

And her heart told her if she let him go, Astarion wouldn’t relax again. He may not even stay in the area if he thought the hunter lurked nearby – too jumpy and flighty to stick around their group.

Her morals would need to keep quiet until she dealt with this.

“Maybe we should take him up on his recommendation,” Astarion suggested. “Or deal with this threat now.”

“Take him out before he hurts anybody,” she said and it was an agreement.

The hunter waved his hands quickly. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend hunting a vampire spawn if you have no experience. You may be a strong fighter but I doubt you’d be able to challenge one.”

“I wasn’t speaking about Astarion,” she said. “If he wanted me dead, he’s had ample opportunities so far.”

Astarion hummed, almost chuckling. “You’re not wrong. It’s lucky that you’ve proven yourself far more useful alive.”

The hunter’s gaze slowly drifted between her and Astarion and her grip tightened on her blade. “That’s impossible,” he said as he reached for his crossbow. “There’s no way you’re –“

She stepped forward and slipped the blade free. Steel sunk deep into flesh and he choked out a garbled, surprised sound as his throat split open. Disgusting.

Blood sprouted from his neck and down his chest as he fell backwards, eyes wide with shock. But she had been too confident and she didn’t notice how he’d managed to get his crossbow out; how he pulled the trigger even as the last of the dark red pulsed from his throat.

The bolt stabbed directly through her thigh. It drove straight through the leather and pierced the flesh beneath even as the others drew their weapons to assist in a battle she’d already won.

She collapsed to one knee as his body thumped against the ground with a few ragged gasps. This was scarcely her first time being shot by a crossbow bolt but something must have coated the weapon. Poison or enchantment, she didn’t know but the pain and the weakness spread fast through her body and her blade fell onto the soft grass below.

“Are you alright?” Wyll arrived at her side first, concerned.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him through gritted teeth. “He’s dead right?”

“From what I could see,” Astarion said with a dramatic sigh. “Well, that’s a pity. I wanted to kill him myself.”

She ignored him and put a bit of pressure on the site of the injury. Her muscles burned fiercely as she decided to leave the bolt in for now. Rather not pull it out when she didn’t know what clung to it.

She slowly stood and blood pulsed down her leg in thick rivers. It slicked the area between her armour and left awful, sticky trails.

No visiting the strange old woman it would appear. She refused to explore a swamp when her leg felt like this.

She stepped forward and hissed in pain, just about collapsing once more if it hadn’t been for Wyll’s support on her back. Definitely something strange about this one.

“We do have spare health potions,” he said as he looked at the bolt. “But this has some magic on it. We should get back to the camp to make sure it isn’t going to deal any long-term damage.”

“I like that idea,” she admitted with a strained and uncomfortable laugh. “It’s a little sore.”

Over the past few days, she’d had many close calls with many weapons but this wooziness… she hated it. The air around her swam as she limped her way along the ridiculously long road back to their camp, reassuring her companions with soft words which held no purchase. Even they could see the way the energy drained from her body with each step.

She accepted only the occasional of assistance from Wyll and tried to make it appear as though the injury didn’t bother her.

Honestly, it had been her fault entirely. She should have noticed the crossbow and been more aware of when he pulled it free. Anger clouded her vision then and still did as they walked back.

The audacity of such a man who dared to threaten her friends… he agitated her even now when he lay on the floor, destined to be anything more than food for the various animals in the area.

Astarion didn’t return her occasional glances nor did he offer help.

She hoped he hadn’t become upset at her actions. Though he may have wanted to kill the hunter himself, she had seen an opportunity and taken it before anybody got hurt.

Well, aside from her.

The enchantment on the bold got removed swiftly but her body needed time to recover and the evening passed uncomfortably. Every muscle burned and her breaths came in soft, quick succession. She tried to keep her complaints quiet and not bother any companions. She had the antidote; she had a bandage. Now all she had to do was wait.

And wait.

The night’s hours stretched long as she lay in her tent. She prayed for sleep to find her but the ache in her bones and the burning pain refused to allow her an opportunity forward.

The footsteps distracted her from her twisting and turning. For somebody so akin to sneaking around, Astarion had stopped doing it after he’d given her a heart attack and she ended up headbutting him. He’d complained non-stop over it for at least an hour but now he didn’t sneak around anymore.

He stepped through the entrance of her tent, his hair haloed in moonlight. The night suited him as well as the day did. He looked practically ethereal as he drifted into her tent, every bit the predator she’d been warned about.

“Well, don’t you look like an absolute mess.”

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head away from him. “And it’s all because of you.”

“Me? It’s hardly my fault the man had a poisoned crossbow. You could have dodged it, you know. I’ve seen you twist your way out of worse hits than that.”

Almost always because of luck but she wouldn’t tell him as much. Instead, she offered him a small smile and tried to stop the tremble in her limbs. At least the pain felt lighter than before.

“Aren’t you meant to be cured or whatever by now?” he asked.

“Shadowheart said it’ll heal up by the morning at latest. I just have to last until then.” Exhausted of lying down, she pulled herself up into a sitting position, leaning against her travelling chest with her legs stretched out. “I’m surprised you came to visit. Are you worried?”

He put his hand to his heart and smiled. “You wound me. Of course, I’m worried. It’s not every day I find somebody dedicated enough to slice a man’s throat in my name.”

“The others would have done the same to keep you safe.”

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t trust any of them with catching a spider.”

She laughed. Though he complained, they were growing on him and she didn’t even need to prompt him to join their impromptu gatherings anymore.

“They like you.”

He ignored her comment and instead spoke of something else. “I believe my old master sent the hunter. He wants me back under his thumb, as I expected. This won’t be the only person he sends and not all will go down so easily.”

“I won’t get distracted next time then,” she laughed.

“Distracted?”

She gestured at him, knowing better than to voice the protectiveness for what it was. She didn’t understand it much either. “I’ve always told you how pretty you are. Now look what those sharp eyes have done. I couldn’t stop looking at them.”

She could play his game too. Offer him compliments and flattery instead of truth when he felt vulnerable.

“You can’t distract me with compliments,” he scoffed.

“Oh, I absolutely can.”

If she had the energy to do so, she would have continued but the wound pulsed in pain and she turned her attention to it, pressing against the soft skin to try and make it stop. The red bandage twisted her stomach into knots but it had stopped bleeding after a while.

Astarion appeared close to her unexpectedly, close enough to kiss with the smallest smirk on his face.

“You must try to stop yourself from getting hurt like this,” he said, trailing the faintest brush over her thigh. “It’s a waste of perfectly good blood. I almost couldn’t contain myself when I saw it running over your skin.”

She tried to laugh but it came out more exhausted than anything. “I’ll try but I make you no promises. My blood isn’t only yours.”

��Not yet. Perhaps the next time you give me the opportunity, I’ll drain it all so you can’t waste it.”

She tilted her head to the side to bear her throat, an exhausted but teasing smile in place. “I did say you could feed off me this morning, right? You’re welcome to take a bite now if you’re hungry.”

He appeared to not be able to tell if she joked or not. She smiled to tell him she was. Even if she had the blood to spare right now (and honestly, she didn’t), she doubted Astarion planned on feeding from her when he already felt as though he owed her some strange debt.

She’d noticed that about him. He only propositioned her when he felt as though he had to give her something in exchange.

It made her concerned.

He scoffed. “You couldn’t pay me enough. I can smell that rancid poison in your veins and it’s awful.”

She groaned and rolled her head back. “I hate this. It’s worse than that stupid apple I ate when we first entered the swamp and just as awful as when the goblin managed to sink its axe into my arm the other day. I thought I caught something from that at least.”

He chuckled. “Well, whatever magic was, it was likely intended for me so it probably won’t kill you.”

“If it’s going to kill me, I’d like it to get it over with. This pain is horrific.”

She expected him to leave soon but she took the opportunity to tap the spot beside her, asking him to sit down. What better company could she ask for? Elves didn’t sleep and despite pretending, Astarion certainly never allowed himself to meditate for very long at all.

“You’re very demanding, aren’t you?” Regardless, he took a seat and they lapsed into silence, punctuated only by her soft and somewhat shaky breaths.

She wanted to ask about the hunter. Wanted to know more about his old master and why he would be so desperate to claim a spawn back. Vampires could create as many spawn as they wanted to and he didn’t need to keep one at all times. It felt like a great deal of energy.

But as the silence stretched out, only one really bothered her enough to make her speak.

“Are you alright?”

“Obviously,” he laughed. “I’m not the one who got shot, was I?”

“No but I wouldn’t want to know a hunter is after me. I don’t want you to feel like you’re unsafe here.”

His smile turned bitter and unhappy as he answered that, his mouth twisted into a scowl. “Safe? Nowhere’s going to be safe as long as Cazador remains alive. The reach of a vampire lord goes far beyond what you may think.”

She may be a little light-headed for a proper conversation but she kept conscious, if unable to stop herself from leaning against his side. He was so cool. It felt amazing against the feverish nature of her skin and she wanted to hug him so badly.

“If he tries anything, I’ll make sure he doesn’t take you.”

He frowned at her and shifted his weight, not quite moving away from her but also not wholly embracing it. She hoped he would move away if he felt uncomfortable, as he did to a few of her other casual touches.

“You’re greatly misunderstanding the power he wields,” Astarion warned, his voice soft. “It would never be as simple as what we’ve seen so far. If he wanted to, he could stroll into this camp and whisk me away before you even noticed what had happened.”

Her solutions were a little scattered so she went for the easy one, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together before she could think about it.

“There,” she murmured. “If he tried to take you away now, I’ll notice immediately.”

Astarion’s muscles turned strangely tense and he made a small coughing sound, muttering something about how she would lose a hand then. She didn’t really hear it. Sleep crept up on her fast with the relaxing touch of his cool body and she lowered her head to his shoulder, eyes drifting closed.

When she woke in the morning, she lay alone in her tent beneath almost every blanket she owned and feeling brilliantly better. The pain faded and she felt ready to take on a hag.

Which incidentally is what they ended up doing. She spent the longest time afterwards wondering if she’d dreamed the previous night or not, distracted enough to nearly spill a bottle of unknown potion all over Gale. After a multitude of apologies, they made their way out and if Astarion’s hand brushed against the back of hers for a second, she didn’t mention it further.

Taglist: @venus-wrts @stephmundo @cassiopeia-adaar @escapistoftherealworld @scarletrosesposts @mavix

[honeydippedwaffles]

“Smallest drop” is so amazing omg I’m really looking forward to part 3!!!

Thank you so much! Hopefully Part 3 will be coming out within the next few hours if everything goes according to plan 🤗.

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop - Part 2

Summary: Seeing as part one went well, I present to you the continuation but this time, from Astarion's point of view. Thank you all so much for your support. It makes me so happy to know the fandom is enjoying my work.

He honestly doesn't know what Tav wants from him or why she keeps stirring weird emotions in him and she only further confuses when she presents him with a thoughtful gift.

There will be a part 3. Tav is not mentioned by name.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.2k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Astarion never considered himself particularly lucky but he knew how to adapt to situations beyond his control – keep himself alive and everything. He’d proven himself to be talented enough to seduce well, just about anyone.

Just about anybody it would seem but not a single member of the strangest group imaginable, also known as the one he’d chosen to travel with.

Because luck would mean the most frustrating woman in the world would be the one he aimed to… shall he say, convince about the benefits of staying close to his side.

Oh, she wasn’t exactly immune to his charms. He could see the effects when he moved close to her and her lips curled into a natural smile, attention flickering to him in anticipation of what he wanted to say. She brushed against his shoulder whenever she wanted to pass and laughed at his snide remarks.

All the things that he would usually consider a success; a sign he’d managed to win her heart in some form.

But then, she also went and did the absolute opposite.

Instead of pulling him aside in the camp when he offered and allowing him to drag his lips along her throat, she dragged him into the middle of the group to socialize. She leaned into his touches and then ran off to help save another puppy or whatever else caught her attention.

It annoyed Astarion because he knew she liked him but he didn’t know what she wanted from him. They’d spent one evening together and she appeared keen on more but then rather spent her nights teaching an owlbear how to sit.

Admittedly, a very cute pastime but still.

She ran a bath for him, washed his hair, and then promptly left him alone in the water instead of joining him for some fun. If he understood, he could easily provide but she made the first part infuriatingly difficult.

“Alright,” he said after she’d caught him staring into a blank mirror and spurned agitation in him by reminding him that he didn’t, in fact, know what colour his eyes once were. “Tell me what you see when you look at me. Surely you can describe my appearance well enough.”

She giggled and put a hand to her chin, as though considering. “I think we’d be sitting here the whole night if I did that. You’re so pretty, it’s unfair.”

Pride curled hot in his chest and his irritation simmered. Amazing how easily she managed to do such a thing. “Oh? Then name your favourite.”

She reached out to brush a strand of hair away from his face, freezing only when the action had already startled both of them. Astarion wondered why she stopped for only a second before he realised he’d shifted away from the touch, a movement done on instinct rather than thought.

Shit. That wasn’t going to help him.

She dropped her hand as though nothing happened. “I refuse to believe becoming a vampire changed you that much. There’s no way you weren’t this gorgeous before.”

She knew how to appeal to his vanity and the strangest thing about it was, he didn’t feel as though she did it on purpose. Her ceaseless flattery came naturally to her.

“It’s been over two hundred years since I last saw it and memories fade.”

A lie but not an important one. He remembered everything since the day he woke up in his coffin, panicked and struggling to breath though he didn’t need to. The pain of transforming, the agony of starvation, and unending confusion. Nothing slipped away and he hated it. Despised how the memories shoved their way forward.

But for now, he refused to think of them and instead waited to see what she thought of. She pressed her lips together tightly before she spoke.

“The first thing I noticed when I met you were your eyes. They’re red, obviously, but they’re also strong and piercing. You also get these crinkles beside them when you laugh.”

Again with the strangest compliments. Still, he took them in his stride this time. “That’s better. What else?”

“The way you smile. It’s dangerous and sharp but occasionally, genuine. It’s enough to charm anybody, I would say.”

He offered her a smile in response, pleased with the praise. He preened beneath her pretty words and happily took the knowledge close to heart. Meaningless flattery had always been one of his favourite things.

“Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we’ll call it a day.”

She laughed and tilted her head to the side. “You’re beautiful. I thought that much was obvious.”

But something in the way she said it ruined everything. She took the most boring compliment of the lot and meant it deeper than all the others. The teasing tone easily exposed the truth and the pride disappeared, replaced by something he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now was there any real reason for you to make your way over here?”

She didn’t really want anything but he’d almost expected it. Everything she found on their journey eventually got shared with him and today, she spoke about some woman’s letter she’d found. Nothing important.

Astarion thought that would be the end of it.

He continued to flatter her to make sure she always preferred him above their other companions and was rewarded when she continued to seek him out first. An entirely selfish action truly but she offered him a path forward.

The others had their strengths but something about her united them the best. If a chance existed where he could retain this ability to stand in the sun, he had no doubt she would be his best way there.

Even if she did insist on carrying about so much nonsense she found whenever they went out and helped every person with the smallest problems.

But then she found an empty book lying on the floor somewhere and she immediately began staring at him whenever it was open, scribbling away inside but always staring at him over the edges. Every time he offered her a quizzical glance, she smiled and continued with whatever she was doing.

She showed it to Wyll and Gale a few times but never brought it over for him to see.

Of course, if Astarion really wanted to, he could find what waited in those pages easily.

The parasite provided an easy path forward but she would know he wanted something when he dug around in her head. He didn’t sleep most nights but she rested deeply; deeply enough to allow a vampire to drink from her throat without even waking her like the true fool she was.

She knew, even laughed when he complimented her the next morning, but never once complained, just told him he was welcome back whenever.

Originally, he thought she may be too trusting but he learned quickly how wrong that assumption was. She didn’t believe most of the people who tried to sway her to their side; straightened her back and glared when they tried to trick her and often even stood between them and her companions.

Which meant, somehow, he’d earned her trust.

Ridiculously stupid as it was for her to trust him, he didn’t want to lose the privilege and so he left her book alone until the next time she spent too long staring over its top.

“I do hope you’re writing something fun in those pages,” he said. “If you let me read them, I’m sure we can make them happen.”

She laughed at the suggestion. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just trying to draw you.”

He lowered his goblet a little in confusion, unsure how to respond to such a thing. “Draw me?”

“Well, you complained so much about not being able to see yourself in the mirror so I thought this would be the next best option. Come here and I’ll show you.”

She patted the spot on the ground beside her but Astarion didn’t move. Of all the things he’d expected from her, he hadn’t anticipated a recall of the strange conversation from before. Certainly not for her to have spent several days on such a thing.

“Come on,” she welcomed him. “I’m not horrible at art, I promise.”

He shook off the surprise and forced a laugh. “My apologies, I got distracted watching those adorable cheeks of yours flush. It’s absolutely delicious to see the way the sun burns your skin.”

“Oh, that wasn’t the sun,” she said. “If you’re talking about this.” She twisted a little so he could see a deeper red mark on her chest and where it curled over her shoulder. “You know the chest I kept fiddling with beneath the grove? Turns out it was trapped but don’t worry, Shadowheart promised it would fade with time.”

He honestly hadn’t been speaking of anything but he found himself annoyed at her for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint. “Well, I suppose that’s what you must deal with when you’re obsessed with looting everything we come across.”

“It’s profitable,” she teased. “Now do you want to see what I’m drawing or not?”

He took his time to saunter over and sink into a relaxed seat beside her. The sun had begun to set and its final rays danced over her skin as she shifted closer, leg brushing against his own as she turned the pages to him.

“It’s not perfect,” she warned. “You’re not an easy person to capture on the page but it’s something.”

True to her words, the book had been filled with sketches from the front to the back. Some crude and others detailed but every single one was of him. Close ups, full bodies, and even a few in action with daggers drawn. Had she truly drawn them from memory alone?

“I keep getting frustrated when they don’t come out right,” she said. She leaned back so she was lying against the grass, attention on the sky. “I’ve asked the others but they can’t tell what I’m doing wrong either. They’re just not right.”

He turned the pages slowly, not sure how he should respond to a gift like this.

Seeing his face showed truth to her words. He hadn’t changed awfully much in these years. The great care put into this though… she’d spent ages detailing his hair on others and even put dapples of sunlight over others from when they’d been travelling through the forest.

They didn’t have many hobbies to pass the time while travelling (not unless you counted Lae’zel who appeared to be collecting more and more heads as they continued on) but this must have taken so much of her waking hours.

The emotion that crept up his throat was unwelcome and difficult to recognise. It made his unbeating heart twist uncomfortably and he immediately snapped the book shut.

She nudged him to get his attention. “Well? What do you think? We can hire a professional when we reach a bigger city but it’s a temporary solution.”

He forced the smile and it felt wrong. “I doubt even a professional will capture me right. It’s as you said, difficult to capture perfection.”

She laughed. “I’ll try again tomorrow but with our plans, I think you’re going to be in a foul mood and I don’t want to draw you when you’re sulking.”

“Me? Sulk? I couldn’t possibly imagine why when you’re making me trudge through a swamp.”

She grinned and for a second, the briefest moment, he felt something tug on his chest when he looked at her. Fondness. His panic flared immediately and he turned his gaze away, uncomfortable suddenly with the attention she lavished upon him.

Curse her and her ridiculous book. Yet another strange aspect of her life – one that tempted him to flee in the middle of the night and never return to this group and their insistence on helping people.

But he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t give up the safety provided by them yet.

“I’ll be happy to take this off your hands darling,” he said to her, holding up the book. “Keep it safe and make sure it doesn’t disappear in the night.”

“You will not. It’s mine until I get at least one drawing of you right and then you can have it.”

He leaned over her, placing one hand on the ground beside her hip. “Wouldn’t you rather the real thing? We can make some references for more enticing artwork in the future.”

She stared at him, briefly frozen as he drifted a faint touch over her thigh. The flare of lust in her eyes made him comfortable again. This was something he understood. An emotion he recognised. She still wanted him; she must if she spent all this time trying to draw him.

She moved closer and her breath brushed over his cheeks, her eyes locked on his.

He waited, about to close the gap, when she suddenly kissed him on the nose, grabbed the book from his hand, and rolled away with a laugh.

Astarion was left blinking as she tucked the book into her pouch.

“I’ll let you have it when I’m done but that does sound like fun. Unfortunately, this evening though, I managed to talk Wyll into giving me some dance lessons so I’m booked. You should join if you feel up to it.”

He huffed and tried not to let the strange jealousy return as she ducked away towards the others.

Taglist: @rosenightwings , @tragicdruid , @bloopthebat , @venus-wrts

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop

Summary: Tav overhears Astarion complaining about their situation and decides to do what she can to make it a little better for him and she ends up surprising him in the process.

Tav isn't referred to by name. There might be a part 2 if this is well-received.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 1.8k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

It started when she overheard a passing comment from behind her, grumbled in response to something Lae’zel said.

From the earliest parts of the day, they’d been making their way through difficult terrain; surrounded by thousands of bugs and mud up to their ankles. She’d tried not to complain about it though Astarion never shared her focus on quiet suffering and he had a fair point.

Though they’d managed to set up a fairly comfortable camp outside the grove – not wanting to impose nor deal with the druids for too long – they hadn’t really found any chance to properly bathe since their abduction.

The late afternoon glinted into her eyes as an idea presented itself.

She slipped away from the group almost excitedly to find the abandoned house where she’d spied it not long ago. After making sure it contained no nasty surprises, she’d left. It didn’t really have a roof and the majority of it had been burned down by some form of magical fire but most importantly, it had a tub.

One night together shouldn’t have made her so weak for the elf but despite all his sweetened words and falsities, he captivated her attention. She knew he meant little by it but sometimes those words made her days brighter regardless.

And she wanted to return the favour given how the muddy path came from her badly thought-out route.

The river running close by provided her with clean and cool water, not the easiest to move in large amounts but still able to fill the tub. It didn’t leak (a minor miracle) and she managed to use a little more of her already-exhausted magic to get a few charms warming the water up.

She smiled at her work proudly and left the charms to do her work while she made her way back to the grove to get some soaps.

Her shoulders shook a little as she eyed her small surprise. Proud and excited, she now faced the greatest of tasks.

Encouraging Astarion to actually step away from camp.

“No, thank you,” he said, dismissed her with the casual wave of a hand. “I’ve had quite enough traipsing through the forest for one day. If you want to continue finding every possible swamp insect to attack you, you’re welcome to be my guest.”

She sighed. “But I have something to show you. It’s a surprise.”

He smiled, strained. “My, aren’t you a desperate little thing. Maybe I’ll join you a little later in the night but for now, I’m afraid I don’t have the energy or the interest.”

“No, it’s not…” she groaned. “It’s just a bath, alright? I overheard you complaining about being dirty earlier so I found one for you.”

“Did you now?”

“Yes. Come along. Those runes aren’t going to last forever and I know you’re going to fuss about the water temperature.”

Astarion chuckled and she immediately knew he didn’t believe her. “I appreciate the creativity, darling. Really, I do, but you’ll find direct offers are far more effective on me.” He leaned closer and she became suddenly aware of how many eyes watched them from around the camp. “But if you’re really going to such lengths, I’m not going to deny you forever.”

Flushed, she stepped away and ducked her head. “Fine. I’ll use it myself but you better not complain once more about it.”

She ignored the slightly concerned expressions of her friends as she stormed back into the tree line by herself. Why she even thought he’d appreciate it… she shouldn’t have even bothered offering it to him. She really needed to be more selfish if she wanted to not get turned down by the vampire spawn again.

It stung more than she expected it to, even if she wasn’t offering anything more than an actual bath.

She brushed her fingers over the surface of the still-warm water when she got there and sighed. It still felt like a waste, even if she used it. Amazing how homesick she’d grown for her house when stuck out in the wild with nothing more of comfort than a single bedroll.

Maybe she should have stolen one of those beds from the goblin den they cleared.

The floor creaked and her hand flew to her weapon, spun around only to find a very arrogant elf who appeared annoyingly surprised.

“My, so it wasn’t even a ploy alone,” he said. “You genuinely managed to find a bath. I respect your dedication if nothing else. There are certainly easier ways of seeing me undressed.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the water. “I was trying to do something nice for you but as you’re not interested, feel free to return back to camp.”

He stepped close enough to brush his fingers against her cheek. “Whoever said I wasn’t interested?”

“You did. In very direct words.”

“Well, things change. I’ve decided you’re quite right. It’s been far too long since I got to wash and you’ve been so sweet, setting it all up for me. I couldn’t be rude and turn you down right now, could I?”

Cursing the elf beneath her breath for his indecisiveness, she moved to walk past him. “Enjoy.”

Once again, she surprised him and Astarion took a second to respond, calling to her as she reached the edge of the charred flooring.

“You’re not joining me?”

She looked back at him. “Am I meant to be?”

“Why, yes. I can hardly be expected to do things like washing my hair all by myself. What if I get lonely or attacked?”

She frowned at him but he kept smiling at her in the same insistent way he did when he wanted something. The corner of his lips pulled up as though he knew a joke and didn’t want to share it. She couldn’t help herself but relent under his burning gaze; he’d done the same thing when she’d agreed to let him drink blood from her throat. Perhaps she should be concerned with where her willpower went when it came to this man.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll help with your hair if you really need.”

“How fun.”

He insisted on being as distracting as possible when he got undressed. His constant glances at her met nothing in return but she couldn’t help glancing at the scars as he lowered himself into the tub.

Their ridges made her uncomfortable. Not knowing what it said frightened her for Astarion’s safety rather than her own.

Nothing good ever came from runes carved into flesh.

“There’s no need to act so shy, beautiful. You’ve seen me in far more compromising situations than this.”

She wouldn’t call their night together compromising but she ignored the comment regardless. His soft sigh of relaxation as he settled into the water worked wonders for clearing up her irritation.

How he managed to be so magnetic astounded her. She found a spot to sit behind him and slowly, gingerly, began to help him with his hair. Despite being ridiculously soft considering how long they adventured in the wilderness, it needed some careful care and attention.

She took care to stay gentle when she found where tangles turned into knots and worked them free without pulling. He gave a small hum when she had to give a soft tug and she took it as an okay to use a little more force.

“We don’t have much to work with but I did manage to get some things from the grove,” she said. “It won’t be up to your standards but I don’t think anything really is.”

Cagey about his past, all she knew surrounded the small snippets he gave her when upset or ranting. She doubted he’d ever had much time to fuss over which hair products he used, too busy watching over his shoulder for a constant threat. He still did so now when he thought nobody could see. His meditation never held him deeply as sleep took her.

“Regardless of whether or not it’s professional, I won’t complain about your skills with this.”

“Skills at detangling your hair?”

“At winning my favour.”

She frowned a little and focused on the white locks where they curled between her fingers. “I’m not only doing this because I want to impress you.”

“I’m sure you have other motivations,” he hummed, teasing. “But you know you’re more than welcome to join me whenever you’re ready. You chose a good-sized tub for both of us.”

She ignored him again, instead focusing on working out a tight knot. Once done, she encouraged him to lean back a little so she could massage the soap gently into his hair, rubbing soft circles against his scalp until his eyes fluttered closed and the smallest hint of relaxation showed in his expression.

Good. He carried far too much tension and she stopped herself from continuing the slight massage down to where she could see the stress in his neck and shoulders. How uncomfortable it must be but she didn’t want to encourage whatever strange idea he had about this situation.

Still, even if she hadn’t planned anything, she couldn’t deny her attraction.

She wanted to press her lips to the pale skin of his neck and trace the path of the water droplets as they pooled against his collar bone. She wanted to trail her hands over his sides and pull him close.

She coughed to stop her thoughts before they ran too far.

If the parasite in her skull didn’t kill her soon, she may just die from the way this elf made her heart pulse unnaturally fast.

“Everything alright?”

He sounded… well, still as flirtatious as ever but more concerned than she thought he would. She snapped her attention back to him and almost lost herself in those stunning eyes.

If she wanted to, she could so easily fall prey to his sweetened words and he really wouldn’t mind. He would encourage it even.

She finished washing the last of the soap from his hair and stood up somewhat uneasily. Pride still shone in her chest as he sat up properly, appearing far cuter than she anticipated with his hair falling flat against his skin.

She saw the invite on his lips before he even said it. Watched him flick whatever switch he had to draw her in and she hurried to leave.

“I’ll see you back in camp, alright?”

His confused expression followed her as she stepped away from the building but he didn’t call her back. She found her way back to camp with a slight heave to her chest and a desperate need for a distraction.

Though she really should have thought it through before she asked Lae-zel to spar with her. The bruise kept her up for the entire night – long enough to realise he didn’t come past for a taste of her blood in the evening.

[honeydippedwaffles]

Commission: Poisons (Part 1)

Commission Information: A set of two - oneshots following Genji's relationship with a reader whose alliance lies with Talon, whether or not those around them know that. The first piece features an AMAB!Reader while the second follows an AFAB!Reader.

Content Warnings: NSFW Content, AMAB Reader, Betrayal, Oral Sex (Receiving)

Word Count: 4.1k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

You may not have been a fan of tall tales, not even when you had barely come up to your mother’s knee, but the words sounded outlandish enough to belong in one. Promises of a talking moon would have made the worst fool sceptical.

Despite that, he allowed you to walk him down a trail infrequently used by the animals in this forest without so much as a complaint.

“Before everything, I used to make my way down here almost every week,” you said, a wistfulness in your tone. “Lived in the area at one time which made it an easy walk.”

Genji glowed in the forest. Controlling the urge to watch him proved unfairly difficult even with all the distractions around you.

“I once had a place like that,” he said. “It’s unfortunate but I haven’t had the chance to visit in many years. I sometimes feel I may not like to return so the memories remain forever positive.”

You laughed. The sound hurt your ears. Your laugh remained the one thing you missed deeply after your encounter with Talon. The freedom it carried had been chained to the heaviest rock. What else could you do when his concerns hovered so close to your own?

If it remained as beautiful as you remembered, life may return to your lungs, but should somebody else have dared to ruin your spot… you’d rather never find it again.

A hope. Frivolous things but you’d experienced many of those in the past few days. At least one of them had proven successful.

You took another glance at the ninja and tripped for it. Heat rose to your cheeks and the dark concealed it well. Instead of another misstep, you listened for the moon’s whispers and allowed her to guide your path through the trees. You’d always said it’d be impossible to find this place in the daytime. Not without her aid.

Another one of those tricky hopes, you supposed. No way for Talon or Overwatch to stumble into this place if they needed the moon’s help.

You’d turned protective of many things from your past – kept them secret from everybody in fear of further plundering. An exception would be made for the first time this night. Your nerves buzzed as a result of it.

Genji followed dutifully behind you with his attention more on the environment than anything else. If he bore any concerns about getting little sleep before a mission, he didn’t care to voice them. Whether or not he needed rest lay outside your knowledge.

You reassured him that the walking had almost reached its end when you heard the music of a river’s end.

The trees thinned as you approached the waterfall, its cascading sound the star of many faded memories. A rainbow of icy water plummeted into a cool pool below; its current stronger than before.

Before Talon’s claws dug into your flesh, this area chilled you to the bone. The days after snow, no number of layers protected you from the cold. Now, you knelt beside the water and caressed the surface with scarce a shiver.

Your reflection judged you loftily. Barely recognisable since your life had changed, you saw mere flickers of what had once been beneath the surface. If you dug deep enough, maybe you’d be able to reach it.

Genji’s mirror joined your own and you smiled.

“This place is beautiful but I’ve yet to hear the moon speak,” he teased with enough genuine curiosity.

“You have to listen properly.”

She sang like a siren for those who could hear. Her whispered tune got carried by the arms of the wind to where you sat and she told you everything she saw. Secrets, warnings, and all else. You’d learned better than to ignore her about what she wanted to let you know.

Genji meditated beside you while you listened for fleeting minutes. She told you when he settled down, cross-legged and tranquil. You hadn’t needed the information though you appreciated it. His leg brushed against your own.

You stopped your mind before it moved too fast.

But listening to the moon became harder as your thoughts changed to the person beside you. Focus turned to an effort in futility and you watched the fireflies dance around the waterfall’s edges instead.

Truly beautiful in their rituals, they reminded you of one of the reasons you had wanted to visit.

You tossed the Overwatch-issued outfit somewhere on the shore with little regard for where it landed and slipped into the pool.

The water wrapped cool around your skin but no longer did it make your teeth chatter. You’d tried every time of year and never found its embrace tolerable until this point. You sunk below the surface without drawing in a breath.

This had been a goal. Successful though you gained no joy from the knowledge.

You contemplated if you should try to reach the bottom but a lack of air brought you to the surface once more. An automatic smile formed when you caught his attention hovering over you; it traced over your dripping hair and chilled skin until he stared once more into your eyes.

“Join me for a swim?”

He chuckled and your smile widened. The cybernetic sound managed to be genuine still. Enviable. “I would if I could.”

His metallic body drew your gaze then. How did he manage to keep it so clear of even the smallest scuff mark? Overwatch kept him busy enough where it shouldn’t be possible and yet he remained pristine. Hours of dedication: you found the only plausible explanation.

“Can’t get wet?” you asked, smug in your tone.

He huffed another small laugh. “I will not break, if that’s what you fear. It’s merely not a pleasant sensation. Angela made this body exceptionally sensitive to many external stimuli such as cold water.”

Your brain twisted in another direction and you held your composure. “I was wondering how much you could feel.”

“A question many have.”

it couldn’t have been a strange thing to wonder if others had asked, right? You reasoned with yourself while Genji went back to his meditation and the glow from his armour settled into something more dimmed. You wondered if the change came about consciously.

He afforded you a luxury in his trust. Though he remained far quicker than you, your weapons lay in reach from where you paddled. This situation could be very dangerous for him if you decided to break your cover.

You didn’t deserve a second of the time you spent with him, you realised. Not when your very nature drove you in a different direction to his beliefs.

Before you could be swept away in an endless torrent of grief, he spoke.

“You’re staring.”

“Can’t blame me. You’re a very pretty thing to look at.”

Whenever you flirted (which mainly comprised of endless, plain compliments), he made the same sound. You’d never figured out what it meant. Any questions gained the same response and you’d stopped questioning it.

“I’ve never known how you manage to sit so still,” you commented to change the topic. “I struggle to find the patience.”

“My master will be arriving from Nepal soon,” he said. “If you are interested, he will gladly teach you the benefits of it.”

“As long as I’m allowed to spend more time with you, I’ll happily take it.”

You’d been taught how to be a ceaseless flirt by the best and you’d never shirked a lesson. When around somebody you found attractive, the comments slipped out and stirred either ire or flattery.

You didn’t know which of the two Genji fell into.

He sat closer to the water’s edge than he needed to and gave you an opportunity. You swum over quietly and splashed a few drops against the metal of his shin. The effect yielded results immediately; the glow of his helmet shone brightly as he waited for an explanation.

When you didn’t speak, he formed his own reason. “Are you testing the boundaries of my sensitivity?”

“I’m curious,” you defended.

You lifted your hand to drag a cool touch down the metal of his calf. Both machinery and magic had combined to forge armour as remarkable as the set he wore. You didn’t believe he could be alive without one or the other.

“I feel far less on my legs,” he explained. “As my true body doesn’t extend that far down, all the sensations are nothing more than phantom.”

“Where does it stop?”

He took your wrist and lifted your hand to just beneath his hip. The action dragged you further from the water and pulled your heart to your throat. “My brother dealt great damage with his attack and much of my lower half became unsalvageable. It took more time than it should have to realise it’s not too great of a payment to be alive.”

Everything you’d heard about Genji’s past came from whispered rumours. Assistants in the doctor’s office who’d seen records or heard about past events and could never keep their mouths shut.

You’d never heard him mention it before to anybody. Flattery sent an embarrassing flutter through your body.

Another question peeked its way into your head but you chased it away. Not an appropriate thing to ask at this moment in time.

You moved your hand higher, brushed against the side of his body where the armour turned softer to allow for movement, and caressed the smooth metal covering his abdomen. He appreciated the attention but wading tired out your legs and the angle meant rocks dug into your stomach with no mercy. The temptation to drag him into the water grew.

Unfortunately, something in your eyes gave away your intentions and his hand closed around your bicep.

You had no time to react as he lifted you from the water with ease and dumped you flat on your back beside the pool before you could respond. Grass tickled the sides of your bare chest as you registered what had happened.

He’d picked you up with no effort at all. Your stomach twisted around itself with the information.

“You’re stronger than you look.”

“Some benefits to having cybernetics.”

You looked up at him, able to hear the proud smile in his tone. “Now I see why Talon operatives are so scared of you.”

“There are a multitude of reasons,” he chuckled. “The strength is a very small part of it.”

With a brief laugh, you took the time to stare up at the sky. Clouds hid most of the stars but the evening light stayed beautiful. A few deep breaths calmed your rapidly beating heart.

It shouldn’t have surprised you to learn he could lift you so easily. As he mentioned, his rebuilt form could lend him speed and power if he needed it to.

Still, your mind fixated.

“Are you alright?”

He sounded concerned and you raised a hand to wave away his worries. The wind chilled you at the movement. “I’m appreciating the sky. Haven’t had much of a chance to do that as of late.”

“My brother and I used to stargaze when we were younger,” he mused. “Though I too haven’t done it in many years.”

You smiled. “I have a natural liking for beautiful things so I have to love the sky.”

Genji turned his attention upwards and gave a shrug. “I’m pleased to see your judgement isn’t as awful as I had feared. I thought this place may have been an accidental choice.”

“You think I have bad taste?”

“Given what you refer to as pretty, I have the idea that your taste is questionable at least.”

You scoffed, aware of what he referred to with those comments. He thought your flirting with him came from habit, not genuine appreciation. It’d been mentioned to you before in passing.

“I don’t hand out compliments like candy,” you said, a little defensive. “And as I said, I appreciate beautiful things. Whether you like it or not, it includes you.”

“You have not seen me without a faceplate so how do you know my scars aren’t too great?”

You rolled your eyes and made sure he saw. “Wouldn’t change a thing about my opinion even if they covered your whole face.”

He thought about your words for so long you began to fear you’d done something wrong. Then he reached for the sides of his head and your heart lurched in place. Trust existed between you two, yes, but this moved to a new level.

The click echoed louder than the waterfall itself.

You’d caught fleeting glimpses of Genji’s face before but those did nothing to prepare you for what he looked like. Red eyes waited for your response, curious and uncertain about what your reaction would be. His scars still appeared painfully raw despite the many years of healing they’d gone through.

He’d resigned himself to your answer, confident he’d predicted your next comment as something flirtatious.

So, you gave him exactly what he expected. “And I thought I couldn’t get any more right. You’re even prettier without the glowing mask.”

He chuckled and the cybernetic twinge to it had disappeared almost entirely. “I must apologise. I clearly didn’t realise I had been working with a blind man for the past year. Believe me when I tell you, Angela’s work is far more impressive.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows. A twinge of pain ran through the arm where he’d pulled you earlier and you provided it only a passing thought.

“My eyesight’s working as well as ever,” you argued. “Wouldn’t be on the Overwatch payroll if it wasn’t. What’ll it take for you to believe me? A kiss?”

Genji rolled his eyes and the playful ire revealed itself for the first time. Your remarks never annoyed him. You’d simply not had the luxury of witnessing his facial expressions.

“You may think I’m easy prey for your flattery but I warn you, I too was a painful flirt in my youth. I know all your tricks.”

You grinned. “With a face like that? You wouldn’t need any tricks. A smile would do.”

He met you in a staring contest before he shook his head. “You’re lucky I enjoy your company enough to put up with such things.”

“My comments are the best part of my company and you know it.”

He didn’t deny your statement. A momentary internal debate on whether he should replace his faceplate took place. You would be lying if you denied your relief when he deigned it not needed and placed it on the stones, closing his eyes.

Sneaking up on him remained as impossible as ever but he allowed you to pretend you could.

You took his face between your palms and marvelled at how warm the metal of his helm felt. His stoic expression stayed in place as he waited for you to make the first move and figure out the awkward angle by yourself.

The kiss made it well worth it.

You kept things simple, not sure if your actions would be appreciated. Your lips brushed against his damaged ones and he hummed in response.

“Too much?”

“No,” he reassured.

His returned kiss tasted vaguely of metal. All the armour shielded him from the outside world but it didn’t take away the tenderness he used. You imagined it took him many years to master such an ability.

A process you still hadn’t completed.

You smoothed your fingers over the sides of his armour and fought away a small moan when he brought up a hand to run through your hair reverently. It’d be an impossible feat to maintain all your composure.

“What are these for?” you asked as your thumb drifted over the ridges on his side. The break gave you a chance to catch your breath and calm your pounding heart.

“Are such questions really important now?”

“No,” you hummed. “I’m only curious.”

“I am as well but these things can wait.”

He untwined himself from his carefully crafted position on the rock and kissed you with force – pulled you close by your hips and you made a soft, embarrassing sound against his mouth. He kissed you until your lungs cried out and you had to break away again before you exploded.

“What questions could you possibly have?” you asked in an attempt not to sound breathless.

“If you’re trying to distract me, it would be easier to simply say so.”

You laughed and acknowledged his point from earlier. Not quite the time to have these conversations. Not when you had a man whose every movement made you melt against him and left you desperate for more.

“I can’t help thinking we’re rather unevenly balanced,” you hummed as he explored your chest with gentle brushes.

Genji tilted his head to the side. His eyes burned with a strange mix of teasing and sadness. “This is not the ideal time nor place for removing my armour. It’s quite an endeavour.”

“Disappointing,” you said with a sigh. You traced your finger over the ridge of his armour where leg met hip. “But we can always continue later.”

Cybernetics brought many benefits with them – hell, they could bring somebody back from the brink of death – but they had their drawbacks too. You’d never had any of your own but they couldn’t be easy to maintain or remove. The complexity of Genji’s armour worsened the process.

You attempted to move away but he held you steady. His touch drifted to your waistline and you frowned, quite confused.

“You misunderstand,” he said. “I didn’t mean we couldn’t do anything while here.”

“That’s not very fair.”

“If I’m not complaining, why are you?”

The corner of your mouth twisted into a smile and you indulged in yet another kiss. As you did though, you realised if he asked, you would tell him exactly what your purpose in Overwatch truly involved. How weak you became for a pretty face – embarrassing.

You broke away with a unpleasurable tightness around your chest. The guilt ate at your heart until your brain began to spiral.

Fingers danced over your hips with enough pressure to draw you back from your thoughts.

He grinned as you turned to him with slightly shocked eyes. “I’m certain you’ve never been told this before but I fear you’re thinking too much.”

You had a snarky remark for him stored somewhere in the far reaches of your brain but he gave you no time to respond. He switched places with you fast enough for your head to spin.

Your back pressed up against the rock and a pair of heart-wrenching eyes stared up at you from where he knelt down.

Your cock gave an appreciative twitch.

“The armour does make things a little uncomfortable,” he admitted. “But far from unbearable.”

He freed you as though he’d done this a thousand times prior. You chuckled to hide your nervous swallow but he gave you no time to think about anything. He caressed the underside of your head and watched your response.

You ran a hand over the side of his face, skirted across the corner of his eye until your thumb caught on his bottom lip and slipped in with ease. He stared up at you with a delicious, coiling fire in his eyes and pressed his tongue against the pad of your finger.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” You need to check to alleviate some of the guilt.

He tilted his head to the side and pulled away from your hand. He hovered long enough for your heart to thud nervously before he dragged his tongue in a blazing trail from base to tip.

Alright then.

He chuckled at your expression and playfully wrapped his lips around your head, sending a bolt of lightning straight down your spine. A soft suck nearly broke you and you struggled to stop your knees from buckling. With nowhere to put your hands, you clenched them against the rock until small pains shot through your skin.

Shit. He expected you to last when he provided you with an image like this one?

He held eye contact while he sunk further down and made a small, questioning noise. Did he want to know if you enjoyed this? Thankfully, he took your stuttered breath as an answer and his eyes fluttered closed. His eyelashes brushed against his cheeks.

Holding steady turned difficult. Your control ran away as he teased your tip with his tongue, swirled around it with electrifying movements. He allowed no debate in your mind for if he had experience in this.

You wanted to bury your fingers into his hair but the sharp metal of his helmet made such a thing impossible. Your fingers had already scratched raw from the stone but you could do nothing about it.

Your hips bucked unexpectedly and he made a surprised but uncomplaining sound and sunk all the way to the base.

The groan you bit down on still came out shockingly loud. He either had no gag reflex to work around or he’d practised this until it came with ease. And he lifted up only to do it again with a moan from the back of his throat that sent liquid fire straight through your skull.

You needed to do something fucking amazing for him later to make up for this.

His blissed-out expression though… he enjoyed this as much as you did. The muffled sounds he made every time he took to the back of his throat and the substantial red flush of his cheeks made it obvious.

Watching him sink down on your cock turned out to be the end of your self-control and you brought a hand to your mouth to try focus elsewhere.

Strong hands pinned your hips to the rock and put an end to your small jerks so he could take you fully. His nose pressed against sensitive skin and you hissed as the cold metal of his helmet followed. The tight heat made you twitch and squirm desperately when he held it there.

He took an awful, dragging second. Your heart pounded in your ears – loud enough to blur your vision and shake your constitution.

You hadn’t spoken about where… you should ask before you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

He swallowed and you whimpered. The slickness engulfing you did nothing but stoke the fire in your stomach. You stammered out something you knew didn’t make a whole lot of sense as a warning.

If Genji had any problems, he didn’t make them known and resumed his earlier actions with intensity.

Your fingers bled, scraped open against the rock, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He shifted his hold to your thighs and pushed them open so he could take you faster and your patience snapped.

He met your eyes a second before and you could have sworn he smiled. The pull of his throat set you alight and you didn’t bother to hold back the guttural sound from deep in your chest.

Everything turned white. He released you and you sunk slowly to the ground.

“It’s safe to say you enjoyed that, no?”

You struggled to find an answer consisting of more than a random amalgamation of sounds. His smug expression made everything worse.

He sat down beside you and took your hand. “You may need to think of an excuse for Angela. Make it a good one. She’s more perceptive than you’d believe.”

Your short, coughing laugh hid little of your embarrassment at the thought. You picked up the closest item to you and tried to think of something.

“I’ll tell her I slipped off something.”

The faceplate you’d lifted became far more fascinating than it should have been in your haze. You appreciated the craftsmanship even if you didn’t understand much about the technology itself.

As beautiful as the man who wore it. The line popped into your head but for the first time, you stopped yourself from speaking.

Ceaseless flirting meant nothing before now. But he understood little about your true motivations for being in Overwatch and one day, when he did learn… everything tasted bitter suddenly.

You handed the faceplate back and attempted to hold the wave of nauseous guilt.

“Is everything alright?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” you asked. “I’m trying find a way to repay you for this.”

He laughed and tilted his head up to the sky. “We’ll find a way, don’t worry.”

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