#Astarion couldn’t and wouldn’t even try

[iamthemain-character]

Are Your Ears Burning? 18+ only - Minors DNI

astarion x fem!reader

CW: smut, masturbation, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), astarion being a brat

A/N: If you know me irl, no you don't (lovingly)- otherwise, welcome to my first smut fic (i need to be put down like a dog). Also shout out to S.H. for being an editor and proofreader, cause my asexual ass don't know shit <3 can't wait to live in the asylum with you when our delusions take over our brains

bg3 masterlist

You couldn’t fucking take it anymore. 

Life out on the open road was exhausting, and often far dirtier than you’d like, and most days you just wanted to collapse into your bedroll once the night sky blanketed the camp. Although, when the travel was not so long and the days were a little bit calmer, your mind would finally be able to think of other things than sheer survival. But that was where the real battle lay, and you had no defenses against your opponent. 

The most beautiful bastard to ever walk the earth, otherwise known as Astarion.

It was truly horrible. The elf vampire’s mere existence was enough to send your body fluttering. The way he would lounge by the fire, feet reaching for the warm, head tilted to face the heavens. Or when he would put on his armor, dexterous fingers flexing as he tightened leather straps. It didn’t help that Astarion was an outrageous flirt, who knew exactly how to lower his eyes just so, or how to change his voice to a vocal caress. Sometimes you wondered if he could possibly read your mind, if he was amused by how utterly pathetic you became the moment he said your name. 

Perhaps it would have been easier if he could, because then you wouldn’t be caught in the dilemma you found yourself in. You know of Astarion’s background, knew that he was trying to undo two centuries worth of pain and hurt. And for that reason you didn’t dare speak your desires to him, not willing to chance the fact that you might ruin what little healing he had found. 

At the end of the day, however, you still were just a woman. And it was in the twilight of a long day that you retired to your tent, hot and flustered from so much more than the campfire. Your core ached, desperate to find some sort of release for the sheer amount of arousal it was constantly put through. But of course, when you thought of pleasure, it was the face of Astarion that came to mind. But that was not a path you were willing to go down. 

Tentatively, you moved to lay on your bedroll; even though you were completely alone, and well within your own right, you felt embarrassed as you took off your shoes, your pants soon cast aside as well. You lay back, taking a deep breath as you attempted to clear your mind, to relax and enjoy yourself. You began as you always did, fingers trailing over your opening, touching the spots that you knew would make you feel good. 

Except when the first wave of pleasure hit, all your mind could think of was Astarion. His pale face, with those alluring ruby eyes filled your mind, and you found your lips longing to utter his name. It shocked you for a moment, but you couldn’t help but note the way the thought of him had made the experience more enjoyable. 

You struggled within yourself, questioning the morality of thinking of Astarion for your own pleasure. You had no right to him, and aside from his flirtatious nature, you weren’t even sure he wanted you in that way. So you resolved to push any thoughts of your white-haired companion away, resorting to sheer pleasure to satisfy yourself. 

You went for where the aching was in your core, fingers pushing through your own soft folds, gathering the slickness that had already collected in just the few moments. You carefully pushed into yourself, breath catching as you maneuvered through the first ring of muscle. Slowly, you pumped your fingers in and out, taking care to brush against your sensitive inner wall. To your dismay, however, the feeling of your fingers within yourself didn’t bring you nearly as much pleasure as you had hoped. Your mind betrayed you, focused on how it was woefully your own hand and not a certain vampire spawn companion’s. 

You slipped in another finger in an attempt to help fill you up, and your mind drifted to Astarion. What would it feel like if it had been his cock inside of you instead, pushing up against your center. Would he be thick, stretching you out around him? Or would he be long, needing to encourage you to keep taking him in. Your fingers picked up their pace, desperation starting to take root as your longing for the real thing increased. 

With a jolt, you caught your ruminating thoughts, heat burning through your face rather than your core as shame coiled in your stomach. Frustrated, you removed your own hand, a little miffed at how difficult your hopeless crush on the elf had made your life. You took a deep breath, moving onto a different tactic; if you couldn’t control your thoughts, you wouldn’t think at all. Your clit had already swelled a little from the arousal, and as you brushed your fingers over the bump, it produced a satisfying thrill up through your body. 

You began working the bud with your fingers, a soft sound escaping you as you felt your pleasure increase in your body, responding to the stimulation. You allowed your mind to grow hazy with the sensations, little prickles of pleasure running through your hips and legs, giving your body the experience it had been craving. 

You pressed on your clit more firmly, touching yourself with more intensity as your body grew hotter and hotter. Little noises escaped with your uneven breathing, the pleasure unable to be constrained to your body and escaping into the air. You had to be careful, your tent was in a circle of your companions’ after all, but your need overruled any real sense of propriety. You continued to vocalize your pleasure, whispered “pleases” mixing in with the quiet noises that escaped you the more you felt pleasured. You could almost hear Astarion’s voice in your ear, murmuring words of encouragement, of praise, enticing you closer and closer to your climax. 

“Astarion…” You groaned, unable to resist the way it so easily came to your lips. 

Little did you know that just outside your tent, crouched beside the very wall of tarp that you were next to, the man himself sat, pointed ears listening intently to your sounds. Astarion had no intentions of listening into your private moment as he had walked past your tent, but the moment he had heard his own name moaned out, your voice so sinfully needy, he had rooted himself to the spot. It didn’t take him long to deduce what was happening, the scent of your arousal, damp and slick on your hot skin, told him all he needed to know. So he sat there, listening intently, his own hunger growing, tightening the leather of his trousers. 

Your breath came out in little pants as you felt the coil burn hot in your lower abdomen, ready to spring at any given moment. How you longed for Astarion’s actual touch, for him to help you along; instead, however, you contented yourself with a final swirl of your forefinger, and the coil snapped. Warmth swelled in the center of your body, and your body sank into the thin bedroll, satisfaction easing the tension that had plagued you for so long. You pulled your hand away from your body, letting it fall beside your trembling thighs. As soon as the initial high was over, however, guilt poisoning the ecstasy, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. No matter how hard you had tried, you couldn’t get the beautiful elven man out of your head, the stupid bastard. 

“You did so well, darling. So good, coming for me just like that.” You could almost imagine his voice purring to you. 

Except you didn’t imagine it. 

Your eyes fly open, and standing at the end of your bed was Astarion himself, a beautifully wicked smirk curled across his lips. His ruby eyes gleamed with gratification, looking as pleased as can be as his gaze drank in the sight of your dripping folds. 

With a start, you broke from your blissful haze, scrambling to cover yourself; Astarion, however, had other plans, pouncing on you immediately, grasping your wrists and pinning them to your sides. “No no, darling, don’t get shy now.” He clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “You don’t get to act coy, not when you called out my name. This is mine to enjoy, and you’re not taking it from me.” 

Astarion punctuated his words by bringing your messy fingers to his lips, taking them into his mouth, tongue swirling around them as he tasted you. He groaned, eyes closing for a moment as he savored your flavor. “So sweet, darling…I simply must have more.” 

Your mind was still caught in shock, lost for words as he shifted down your body, hands caressing from your wrists, following the path of your arms as he trailed further and further downward. He knelt into his position of worship, finding the altar between your thighs, more than ready to taste the wine of your body. Despite how needy he felt, he wanted to savor this moment, the way he finally had your truest feelings laid bare before him. 

“Were you truly so desperate for me, love?” He purred, rubbing his nose against your soft inner thigh. “Our perfect little hero of the realm, fucking herself on her fingers, crying out my name. How perfectly filthy.”

“I...I just needed-”You feel beyond embarrassed, being caught in such a personal moment, but even more so being caught by the very man you were using to get off. 

Astarion, however, was the furthest thing from displeased, chuckling as he pushed on your legs, sighing happily as his face was smooshed between your plush thighs. “I know what you needed, pet. You could have just asked, you know; I would have been more than happy to oblige.” 

You inhale a sharp breath, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, a flicker of concern tightening around your heart. “I don’t ever want to put you in that position again…”

Astarion faltered, his heart melting a little as he realized what you were insinuating. He moved back up to hover above you, the cool leather of his pants stretched over his knees as they pushed up against your thighs, effectively keeping your legs wide open for him. He gently stroked your waist–better than the way you had imagined–his slightly dry fingertips soft as he mapped out the curve of your form. 

“You could never.” He says, his creamy voice quiet as he spoke, the most earnest you had ever seen him. His eyes matched the color you felt in your heart, heated and passionate. “You are nothing like him, or any of them. You…” He leaned in, and he pressed his lips to yours. His whole body leaned into you, craving the warmth he could feel radiating off. “You have proven time and time again that you see me as more than a body.” Astarion whispered against your lips, his own still brushing them. “You have given me a place to call home, to not constantly have to protect myself. And now that I’m not just trying to survive…” He moved his lips to your neck, biting gently. “I find myself wanting.”

His meaning was clear in his words, sending tingles up your body from how much more it excited you. “You have to know now just how much I feel about you..how I adore you.” You reach up a slightly shaky hand, cupping his sharp jawline into your palm. He leans into it, hands tightening into a possessive grip on your waist, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving. 

“It cannot possibly match just how much I adore you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your palm. His eyes flit open again, glancing at yours. “And I would like to show you, if you’ll let me.” 

Your breath catches as your heart skips, heat curling in your stomach again. Unable to trust your voice you give him a silent nod, the need evident in your gaze. 

Astarion presses one last kiss to your lips before he returns to his irreverent worshiping, his slender hands wrapping around your thighs, nails pressing into your skin as if to mark you as his. He brings his face the slit between your folds, and he inhales deeply, a satisfactory sigh leaving him. You clench around nothing, his warm breath scattering across your damp skin making your body tingle with arousal. 

“Look at her, already so beautiful and ready for me.” He murmurs, pressing his pointed nose into the little crevice above your clit. He darts his tongue out, flicking the swollen bud, smiling as he feels the twitch of your body in reply. “But look at her, poor thing…she deserves tact, and true pleasure, not just a brutish push to an orgasm. Never fear, my love..” He pauses, pressing a kiss to your pelvis, “I am here to take care of you as you deserve.” 

Astarion rolls out his tongue, pressing it flat against the opening between your softness, and he drags it upwards. He hums with delight, just the hint of your essence making him greedy for more. He pushes through the soft flesh, dragging his tongue expertly up and down, lapping up the mixture of arousal and release that remains. 

You can’t help the soft noises that escape you, no words being able to describe how you’re feeling, the sensations too strong to remain within you, finding their release through your vocal cords. This only spurs Astarion forward, however, who continues swiping his tongue through your vulva, unabashedly hungry in his consumption of you. The only breaks you receive are when he occasionally pauses to tell you how perfect you are, or how good you taste, or how much he adores you. The moment the elf finishes vocalizing his sentiments, however, he returns to your body, working his tongue over and over again. 

You find yourself wishing you could have had this first, Astarion’s actions surprisingly better than your own, as if he was simply meant to know your body in this way. Had you not been so entirely consumed with the sensations his mouth were bringing you, you might have had the notion to be irritated, but instead you only found yourself delighted by his uncanny ability to find the places that pleasured you the most. 

While Astarion could have happily just kept dragging his tongue over you like a man dying of thirst, he wanted to continue focusing on your pleasure. It delighted him, being able to give pleasure because of his affections he felt, with no ulterior motives, and he was determined to enjoy it to the fullest. His shifts a little, easing his tongue into your opening, his body jolting as he feels you gasp and tighten on the muscle. Teasingly, he moves his tongue, easing you open again, sliding it as far as he can get. He presses his face as far into you as he can, taking full advantage of vampires’ lack of needing air. He presses his nose against your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly, building up a rhythm with his tongue as he moves it  in tandem with his teasing nose. 

He feels a surge of satisfaction as you moan, grinding your body against his face, letting him delve deeper into your soaking cunt as he gets more and more drunk on your taste. He can feel you getting close from all the stimulation, the way his hands have to keep you from closing your thighs around his head–not that he’d mind going that way, but he has other plans for you. 

“You’re doing so well for me, my love….taste so sweet, being so filthy on my tongue.” He murmurs, rubbing his nose against your throbbing clit, and you nearly lose it from hope the vibrations rumble through your flesh. “You’ll be a good girl for me and come, won’t you? Let me taste my saccharine reward.” 

“Astarion, I…” You’re not really sure what you’re trying to say, thoughts increasingly difficult to form with every flick of his tongue against your tense inner muscles.

“I’m here, my darling…my beautiful woman…” He presses a kiss with his lips to your labias, a sweet gesture compared to his demanding tongue and insistent nose. “Let yourself go. Baptize me in your glory, please.” 

He’s begging you. Tongue pushed deep into your core, pointed nose steadily pressing into your bud, Asatrion is begging you to come on his face, and you don’t have the strength– nor the desire– to deny him. 

“Astarion!” You moan out, hips bucking against his face as the tension snaps, your body going slack against him as warmth courses through your muscles. 

Astarion feels a surge of delight and satisfaction as he feels his face dampen, and he forgets any rhythm with his tongue as it greedily laps at you, as if he needs every last drop of your release to survive. You can barely make out his murmurs, only catching your name and words of praise here and there. You whimper as he licks at you, the sensation bordering on overstimulation for your pleasured body, but you can’t deny the ache feels good. 

Finally, Astarion’s face pulls away from your warmth, and he presses one last soft kiss to your swollen clit, inhaling deeply to take in your scent once more. He sits up, reaching a hand out to brush back the hair sticking to your forehead. 

“You alright darling?” He asls warmly, smiling down at your flushed and dazed face. 

You nod, taking a deep breath as you try to collect yourself. “I’m…I”m wonderful…perfect actually..” You glance over him, and feel your stomach flip as you see the obvious bulge in his pants. “Astarion, you-” 

He waves you off, pressing a kiss to your stomach. “Do not push yourself, dearest. I wouldn’t want to break your pretty little body on our first night together.” 

“I want you to break me.” You blurt out, heat rushing to your ears as you drop your gaze. As if you weren’t already a trembling and aching mess from the most thorough and pleasurable eating out you’d ever received. Yet somehow, with Astarion, it was never enough. “Please.” 

For a moment, Astarion just gazed down at you, his wine-colored eyes deep in thought as he seemed to consider you. Finally, he smiled, and he reached down, untucking his shirt. “You are so perfect, darling, you know that?” 

Even after all that you’ve experienced, your body burns with arousal again as you watch him remove his shirt, tossing it aside without a care. For a moment, you feel you might faint when he tells you you can touch him, but you manage to stay conscious. Your trembling hands caress over his smooth chest, feeling the cool, pale skin, and the lean muscles that it encases. Astarion shivers at your touch, adoring how he simultaneously feels both adored and wanted. 

He unlaces his trousers, disposing of those and his underwear, watching your expression carefully.

The heat in your center doubles, and you already ache for friction, for him as you gaze at his body. His cock is long, erected upwards as he takes in the mess he’s already made. Veins curve around the shaft, dark against his taut, pale skin. You shudder as a thrill runs up your spine as you imagine how that will feel, and you wonder if you can die from anticipation. 

“Is this what you imagined, darling? Or have your wicked fantasies bested me?” Astarion teases, his voice low as he returns to his position, howevering over you. He dips his head down, nibbling at your ear before moving down to press a trail of kisses across your neck. 

“You are far better than anything I could have imagined, though...I’m not sure this isn’t fantasy.” You breathe out, feeling dizzy from his proximity. 

“This is very much so reality, darling.” Astarion murmurs into your skin. “And I have every intention of proving it.” 

He leans up a little, just enough so that he can grasp your hips, lifting them to meet his body. As you watch him bring his member to your opening, you wonder if you will ever remember how to breathe. But suddenly, you feel him push in, and suddenly all you can focus on is just how right it feels.

 He takes his time, though it's easy for him to slip in, your body plenty wet from your arousal. He groans your name softly as he feels you clench down, as if your body is demanding to have more without delay. He happily obliges, pushing forward a little more intently, watching to ensure you are comfortable. 

You have no qualms, however; every inch you receive sends little waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You wonder how you ever lived without this, the desperate ache inside of your core easing away as he fills you up. As he gets closer to his base, it becomes a bit of a stretch, your body not quite used to the length, but your moan is full of appreciation rather than pain. 

Astarion bottoms out, a deep breath escaping him as he does. “My darling…” He murmurs, caressing his hands up and down your hips. His eyes are hazy, his body thrumming with heat, with the sheer ecstasy of being so deeply intertwined with you. 

Your own body is pulsing, and you grow a little greedy, your hands grasping at his pale strands of hair. “Astarion...m-more…please…”

Astarion moans again, amazed by how he could have someone so incredible possibly want him. “Do not fear, my love. I have every intention of giving you everything.”

Astarion pulls back his hips, pushing them back in a little quickly, his stomach lurching as he hears the gasp that escapes you. He repeats the motion, building up a steady pace as he thrusts in and out of your warmth. It's like your bodies need one another, crave the most carnal and yet loving intimacy that can be had. Astarion's hands firmly grasp your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can thrust deeper, a little harder as he does so. Both of you moan, the pleasure intensified through the new angle. Astarion stops being careful, pumping in and out of your soft body at a reckless pace, needing to chase the pleasure that continues to rise higher and hotter between the two of you. 

The two of you are lost to your ecstasy until you reach the height of it. You come hard and fast, your insides burning up from the tightly wound coil. You forget everything, calling out Astarion’s name without caring if others will hear it, clinging to him as your pleasure takes you. Astarion follows almost immediately after, hips stuttering before he just presses into you, allowing his hot release to fill up your body. Your thighs soon become slick as it spills out of your body, but you hardly notice, more focused on the sensation of Astarion’s body laying on top of yours. 

For a few moments, you both just lay there together, panting heavily, minds spinning from the sheer amount of bliss the two of you have created. Your hands stroke through his hair, his own hands still cupping your waist as if you are the only thing grounding him to the earth. 

“You are so perfect, my love..” Astarion whispers, his voice husky and low, barely a murmur in your ear. “Just positively divine.” 

You smile, a little flutter of satisfaction warming your own heart. “As are you. I feel absolutely incredible, thanks to you.” 

The white-haired elf chuckles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Do not ever thank me, my darling. I’m almost ashamed to admit how much of this was for my own pleasure. You will have to force me to only think of you, next time.” 

“Next time?” You echo, quirking a brow at him, hope fluttering in your chest.  Astarion’s smile curls across his flushed face, and he tucks your hair behind your ear. “Of course darling. I can’t have my beloved resorting to her own hands the next time she needs to feel good. Especially if I can be the one hearing you moan my name.”

[moghedien]

The BG3 girls if you were at a carnival and saw a big stuffed animal prize you wanted:

Jaheira: could definitely win it though it might take a few tries and she’d give it to the first kid she saw instead of you

Karlach: would absolutely win you the big stuffed animal first try and then would win you like 20 more and you would be nesting on a mountain of plushies that night. You will be buried alive in plushies RIP (rest in plushies)

Lae’zel: would win the big stuffed animal and then not give it to you. If you wanted it, why wouldn’t you have won it first? This is her trophy now, she won it with her skill. Was this not a competition?

Shadowheart: might be able to win it but wouldn’t because she’s the one not so subtly hinting that YOU should win it for HER

Minthara: would win you the stuffed animal by any means necessary to prove to the foolish carnival workers that they cannot best her. she would be proud of herself watching you carry it around and all the stares it produces. For a little while, at least, and then she starts getting jealous of the stuffed animal getting more attention from you

[jmliebert]

☆ astarion x shy!virgin ☆

oh, this one I adore...

think of Astarion at the beginning of your journey. he's restless, looking for someone he could effortlessly manipulate—someone who could be of use to him

some silly little creature like yourself, delightfully naive, shy, with cheeks that turn crimson every time he says something even slightly wicked

one of the first nights, Astarion was feeling so weak and sooo thirsty...he simply had to taste you. he needed to sink his fangs into your lovely skin, but you caught him and his body froze for a second shit

yet, instead of killing him (or at least trying to), you gave him a hesitant permission to drink from you. as he knelt before you, sinking his fangs into your delicious neck, he realised for a sweet, little moment that you were perfect—so good for him, your body beneath his, at his utter mercy

it did things to him, things he didn't yet understand

from that moment, Astarion's gaze was firmly fixed on you. he began to test the waters, offering playful flirtations, and your responses were utterly endearing...you were shy, deliciously shy, but it was clear you wanted him. everyone desired him, naturally, and you were no exception

or maybe you were?

as the two of you conversed more and more, he found himself increasingly drawn to you, though he wouldn’t admit it, not even to himself. he took pleasure in how effortlessly he could provoke you, especially when your eyes darted away under the intensity of his lustful gaze

it was clear you hadn't had much experience, so he took his time with you, careful not to scare you, as he needed to keep you close

or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself—an excuse, really. the truth was he truly enjoyed the slowness of it all

he gave you small but very deliberate touches, soft smiles, sweet words. oh god, he was really good with his words

Astarion felt a thrill when you were dancing around each other like this, clearly desiring one another, yet hesitating to act on those desires

it felt incredibly liberating to take his time with you, moving slowly. it felt so different from the hellish existence he once knew, of fucking senselessly

one night, when you were particularly lovely, nestled in his arms and slightly tipsy from wine, you told him you were a virgin

"a virgin, you say?"

well, as it was said before, it wasn't hard to tell you lacked experience, but Astarion surely didn't expect you to have none at all

if he didn’t already have such a strong feelings for you, he might have laughed. instead, he found your innocence endearing and oddly hot?

questions filled his mind: how did you manage it, why had you remained untouched, what was it like? and pondering these questions like that made him unexpectedly melancholic

mindfull even

so his touches were gentle, his kisses soft and reassuring. you were holding your hands a lot—an experience as new for you as it was for him

truthfully, it seemed that you both were discovering your sexuality together for the first time

Astarion would find his feelings for you deepening, and though it was complicated, and fucking scary, he couldn’t imagine being without you, although it might seem somewhat pathetic it was the truth

and he wanted to keep you safe, as you kept him

when the moment felt right—ideally after Cazador—his longing for you would be undeniable, and his neediness would be more apparent than ever

he would press his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss...then moving to your neck...then down to your collarbone, exploring every inch of your lovely skin

Astarion would took his time, making sure you felt every sensation, every touch, every kiss, every hooded look

he genuinely wanted to make this feel just... right, for both of you

his fingers would work wonders, his voice husky with desire

"so perfect. do you feel good, darling? tell me, does this feel good?"

he was very attentive to communication, eager to hear that you were enjoying every moment

his fingers would found your core, sliding in and out with a rhythm that made you go completely feral

after, what felt like a lifetime, he would slowly push the tip of his cock into your wet insides, stretching you gently

"Gods, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with lust

and then more of the same questions would occur; "do you like this? does it feel good?"

and then; "you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?

oh my

his hips would move with a skilful rhythm, each thrust precise and perfectly timed. and as you reached the peak of your pleasure, he would bite your neck so beautifully displayed by you, his fangs sinking into your willing body

Astarion had fantasised about this moment for so long you see—being inside you while drinking your warm, delicious blood. it was undeniably erotic and felt indescribably amazing

after a few more of his tender thrusts, accompanied by sweet words and eager hands, your climax would overwhelm you, making you see star

as you clenched so deliciously around him, he felt an overwhelming urge to quicken his movements. he yearned to thrust harder, but he held back, mindful of it being your first time

yet! as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer and encouraging him to move harder, he found it impossible to resist. your touch spurred him on, making him lose himself a little in the overwhelming pleasure and that's exactly what you wanted

his rapid thrusts, the feel of your warm blood flowing in his body and your tight wetness around him made his own release inevitable

he came with a deep groan, his eyes shut tight, his cock throbbing inside you

it felt so good he was literally trembling

despite his attempts to hide it, he was clearly touched by its intensity of it all. he held you tightly, wrapping you in an affectionate and soothing hug and for once he didn't utter a single word, there were no need to

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about astarion ♡here♡

also! my halsin x shy!virgin headcanons are right here...

[a-case-of-attachment]

Astarion didn’t get jealous.

Scared and lonely? Well yes, of course he did. He even felt angry and vengeful as well but when one considers the life he had been forced to live up until his involuntary relocation to the nautiloid you could hardly blame him for feeling those things.

He couldn’t really remember being jealous of anyone or anything in the short years he had lived before being turned. Then again, he couldn’t really remember much from then at all. Not how he looked, his mother’s name or even if there had been someone for him to love and cherish. Everything important was gone, like it had been swallowed up by a dense fog and no matter how much he search all he ever found was more nothingness. Hardly a good reference point when trying to remember if you had experienced something before or were just familiar with the concept from books.

It was possible he had once been jealous of Cazador’s chosen few. The favourites that had gotten to rest in actual beds and spared the crueller torments that often befell the spawn. Not forced to lay on the cold and unforgiving floor, surrounded by rotting rat carcasses and the smell of fresh and old spawn blood so thick in the air that it felt like he was choking on the stuff.

Maybe that had been jealousy, but Astarion thought it had been more spiteful envy. More angry and covetous of the reprieve then jealous of the attention the favoured few got. He didn’t want to be one of those pathetic, snivelling devotees that scurried around behind Cazador like roaches, blinded by their idiotic belief that all the pain and suffering meant something. That there would be a worthwhile reward at the end of it all. No, all Astarion had wanted was to be treated with just a shred of common decency. Something that he had been denied until he had been fortunate enough to find you after the crash.

So yes, Astarion was sure that he had never been jealous before yet here he was, most certain that as he stared across the fire of their ever-growing camp that was exactly what he was feeling.

You and Gale were huddled close together just outside his tent, heads leaning towards the other and whispering as you both poured over the pages of whatever spell book the wizard had pilfered from the bandit camp, they had raided just that morn. You were smiling, laughing as the idiotic man waved his free hand about, clearly regaling you with a tale that he was heavily embellishing if not outright lying about. You seemed to be enjoying it though, encouraging him with your sweet laughter and wide smiles even as you shook your head in disbelief.

Normally Astarion wouldn’t care if you were feeling gracious and decided to bestow one of your ever hopeful companions with your attention. Astarion was always the one you went too first when arriving back at camp. He was always the one whose flirtations you returned and the only one in their camp of weirdos and misfits who could say they had seen you naked and on more than one occasion at that. He was the one who’s attention you sought. The one you always made time for. Him. Not anyone else…normally but tonight wasn’t like normal because tonight when Astarion had approached you, all charming smiles and quick wit you had done the unthinkable and he had been left staring after you in shock and disbelief like a complete idiot because tonight, you had said no.

Now, don’t misunderstand, you were allowed to say no. He wasn’t a monster. He wouldn’t force you into anything you didn’t want like he had been. Sure, there had been a playful back and forth a time or two. You like to tease him as much as he did you, playing hard to get and making him work for every stollen moment and mouthful of liquid gold that ran through your veins, but it had been playful, done with a teasing smirk and eyes full of promise. Astarion had known that with the right word, the perfect brush of fingers and a well-timed appreciative once over that you would be putty in his hands, willing and open to his advances and what that would lead to. You had never outright said no to him before and for Gale for god’s sake.

Had you maybe hit your head on their last little adventure, and no one had noticed. Perhaps you might even be under some sort of spell or enchantment. Whatever it was there had to be some sort of explanation for this, this madness because there was no logical reason as why you would suddenly up and abandon him for Gale of bloody Waterdeep.

You laughed again, louder this time. Your smile wide and eyes practically glowing with it. Astarion’s mood darkened even more, his eyebrows furrowing as his scowl deepened. Honestly, what in the hells could be so funny about the dull drivel Gale passed off as story’s of his adventures? If you wanted a story, then Astarion could spin you a tale so grand and fanciful that whatever rubbish Gale was regaling you with would look like a child’s bedtime story.

Huffing he turned away, his grip on the book he had been pretending to read for the better part of an hour tightening as yours and Gale's laughter mingled in the air like wine and vinegar. He was not jealous. He wasn’t. He just didn’t like Gale’s barking bellow he called a laugh mixing with your melodic and light one. Really, he would be doing everyone a favour if he went over there and stole you away. It wouldn’t mean anything. Wouldn’t mean that Astarion was hurt and angry that you would want to spend time with Gale instead of him. You were free to do whatever you wanted. He wasn’t your keeper, and you were more than capable of making decisions for yourself even if those choices were clearly wrong.

Astarion’s eyes narrowed as he watched Gale subtly move closer to you, using the small spell book he had suddenly pulled from his pocket as a rather poor excuse to draw you in. The two of you were so close now that a leaf would barely fit between you. He couldn’t see what Gale was showing you anymore but what he could see was how Gale was looking at you. His head was turned towards you, his eyes soft and full of longing as his voice dropped into something gentle, smoother. You seemed oblivious to the shift in tone, your eyes and attention fixed on the book between you, but Astarion could see it all. Gale was a man in love and longing, looking at you like you were the most breathtaking piece of art and the first drop of rain after a drought. It was uncomfortable to watch what Gale probably intend to be a private moment and it made something squirm and tighten in Astarion’s stomach.

Everyone knew that Gale had romantic feelings for you, well, everyone except you but you didn’t seem to notice that almost everyone in their weird little group wanted you in one way or another. Astarion was sure that at least three of the others were halfway in love with you and those that weren’t coveted your body. Gale though, he was the one who had fallen hardest, his feelings as clear as if he had spelt them out with fireworks in the midnight sky.

Astarion had been so smug at first when you had started to favour his company over everyone else’s. He had been able to see the wizard’s heartache and longing, but he had scoffed at the foolish man’s feelings, making a grand show of whisking you off to his tent or other less crowded parts of the camp so he could have you all to himself. It had been a heady rush to have all your attention on him, to become the sole focus of someone who wasn’t expecting him to take his clothes off and seemed to genuinely enjoy his quick wit and rather scathing comments.

He had taken a rather perverse joy in calling you darling and seeing Gale scowl as you smiled ever so sweetly at Astarion. He had been so free with his touch, everything from a simple brush down after a fight to cupping your jaw or brushing his fingers gently across your cheek. He was the only one you allowed to touch you so openly, practically inviting him to lay a hand on you whether that be the small of your back, the inside of your thigh or even your hand, your fingers laced together. Gale had seen it all and Astarion had thought the wizard had understood that you were off limits to the likes of him, but the fool had apparently not given up hope and thought to worm his way into your good graces with made up stories of grandeur and whispered spells.

You turned your head towards him, a question on your lips that quickly vanished as your eyes widened, finally realising how close Gale had gotten whilst your attention was elsewhere. Time seemed to slow then, the world around him falling silent as everything else fell away apart for the two people in front of him.

Gale’s eyes fell from your eyes down to your slightly parted lips. His tongue slowly wetting his lips and giving them a slight shine. His eyes went back to yours, a flicker of uncertainty dancing through them before determination set in. He shifted, the dull thump of the forgotten book hitting the floor not enough to break the intense staring the two of you were doing. Your breath hitched, eyes widening impossibly more as you and Astarion both seemed to realise what was about to happen at the same time.

Astarion had never moved so quickly in his life before.

One second, he had been sat across the other side of the camp, book open but forgotten in his lap as he watched you light up for Gale and the next, he was up and across the space before the book even had time to fall closed. His fingers curled around your arm, and he yanked you rather violently onto your feet and away from the wizards’ searching lips. “Ahh!” Your surprised cry was loud, most likely drawing the others attention but Astarion barely even heard it, his eyes fixed on Gale who had jerked back at your sudden disappearance.

“There you are my darling.” Astarion smiled brightly, his voice loud and cheerful as he spoke over your stuttering indignation at having been so roughly handled. Gale was glaring back at him now, hands curled into fists on his thighs and practically vibrating with anger. Though he supposed it could always be the magic he was always consuming to keep from blowing himself and more importantly them up. It could be quite hard to tell sometimes and Astarion didn’t care enough about the other man to actually bother to work it out. All he knew was that he had to get you away from him before Gale got another one of his disastrously good ideas and tried to make yet another attempt on your lips. “So sorry to break up this little,” Astarion slowly dragged his eyes over Gale, hardly able to keep the sneer out of his voice, “dalliance but there is something I need your assistance with love.” He didn’t wait for an answer from either of them, spinning on his heels and dragging you along behind him. “Astarion!” you hissed in a mix of annoyance and disbelief, but you didn’t stop him, didn’t even try and break free of his hold, just letting him quickly lead you across the small camp and towards the tree line.

Now with a part two!!

[yangcherie]

mating season

𐀔 pairings: astarion x reader. karlach x reader. halsin x reader. background cast (wyll, shadowheart, lae’zel, gale) x reader. background rolan x tav.

𐀔 content warnings: tiefling!tav, LITERALLY PWP, alcoholic consumption, brief sexual memory (halsin), heavy petting, noncon to dubcon (with astarion only), slight slutshaming, oral (f!receiving), mentions of breeding, afab anatomy but g/n pronouns. astarion is very slightly, slighty mean, up to you if he is ascended or not.

𐀔 sypnosis: you, a tiefling, go through your first heat cycle around your companions. some are willing to either indulge you or take advantage of you.

𐀔 author’s note: hoppinh on the bandwagon of tieflings having heat / rut cycles. astarion, briefly halsin, ROLAN and karlach get some action, teehee. and don't worry. everyone is a pervert and thinks about it. everyone will get a chance. someday. merry christmas!!

The first thing everyone wakes up to is heat. Sweltering, palpable heat, pervading the air up to the point it felt like it was trying to smother them, casting annoying, relentless burnishes of perspiration on their skin.

It couldn’t be the sun, no. The warmth felt too close, within of reach – but even then, it was no lively and unextinguished campfire, no engine out of hand nestled within Karlach, Shadowheart concluded.

They’d all been taking turns the entire morning seeking cold relief in the stream. Thankfully, as the day prevailed, the sun was no longer so glaring, the heatwave lessening by a tad bit, the rest of the party excluding a certain Ravenguard had found it now bearable.

It wasn’t until Wyll was fed up with the sweat that would inevitably come no matter how much he wiped at it, marching towards where it felt most blistering, most fervent; the intense source.

It had led him to your tent — and without doubt, the demon believed the source was your tent; your fucking otherworldy furnace of a tent. Even as he stood from outside, the heat was practically choking him. He wouldn’t be surprised if he took a look inside and finds out you, little fiend you, stuffed the entire Nine Hells inside. And take a look inside he does, peeling away the entrance, a delirious but polite request to turn down the heat ready on his tongue —

But it isn’t the Nine Hells’ heat and musk that slaps him to his face, to his utter surprise.

It’s you; trembling, flushed raw and in all of your fiendish glory, naked. Tail loud and thumping on the floor as your whimpers permeate through the air, legs spread and — No!

Somewhere in the back of his horned head, he wonders if it’s the heat, the shock, or simply his building arousal that has rendered him stuck to his position. It takes Wyll all his strength he can muster to tear his eyes away; what was he doing? He was intruding on your tent— your privacy! How could he forget basic etiquette, so much for being a noble-!

(Without a doubt, he’s ruined his chance of any traditional courtship.)

“Sorry.” The Blade himself awkwardly coughs before pushing himself out of your tent with an inhuman force, slamming the fabric entrance shut and tripping on his own two feet on the way out. “It’s Tav!” He shouts, sprinting with little idea on where to; the heat is unbearable and by the gods, he isn’t so sure anymore if it was coming from your tent or if it was simply his body. His commotion with Tav gathers the attention and eyes of his fellow companions, and it is both Karlach and Shadowheart that push at him to settle him down.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, you!” Karlach, ever the concerned companion with her furrowed brows, assures him like steed. “Tav, you mentioned?” Shadowheart, upon quick confirmation that he was not injured, is quick to coax him for answers of his behavior. He’s a bit mortified as his little flustered fit had everyone around him.

“Tav, they’re– get this–” Wyll swallows, tense with the image of you squirming and dripping still on the front of his mind. “T-they’re hot.”

It’s a dreadful thing, he realizes later a split second more than he’d like, the silence that follows. Through the tadpole, they’ve seen what he’s seen; and judging from the atmosphere, they’re chalking it up to an active imagination. All but loud, with a lone cricket chirping in the distance. He shoots up to in an attempt to explain, but wordlessly splutters instead.

“So you’ve had your first wet dream, I take it?” Astarion scoffs, finding the dirt under his manicured nails more interesting than what the fiend had to say next. “Had an issue with morning wood, perhaps– or should I say, a hardened blade?”

“No!” Wyll refutes, now standing up with the help of Shadowheart. “I-I meant to say they’re hot, literally. They’re drenched with sweat, lookin’ like they’re about to keel over. You saw it, in my head, what they looked like!”

“Ah, yes.” The vampire recalled that vision. Though brief and concerning, yes, it was also undeniably delectable. What he wouldn’t give to have seen you writhing with want up close. But still, he slips his desperation behind a theatric mask. “Like a mutt in heat, how hilarious.”

“In heat.” Karlach had repeated Astarion’s words and bristled, her muscles twitching once but violently enough that it had them staring at her like they had been with Wyll. The look on her face tells everyone she’s had her eureka moment, a light flickering beside her head. “Tav is in heat. Of course they are; it’s breeding season!” She guffaws then, disregarding the disbelief of the party — save for Halsin, who simply nodded.

“So what you’re saying is we have a feral, unspayed animal amongst us for the time being?” Lae’zel grunted, though she certainly did not mind if the blush on her face was anything to go by.

“Mating season is upon most of the forest.” The druid responded, crossing his thick arms, ever the calm elf. “Given the... more animalistic features of some cambions, it is not entirely unreasonable. Given the intensity, it must be their first heat since you’ve all been on this journey.” The party gapes; Karlach nods, and though she does not mention it, she’s mildly disappointed your heat had not aligned with her rut.

“So, what you’re both saying is that they need to breed – or be bred?” Though the vampiric rogue balked, he was unable to deny the inkling of lust that washed through him at the idea. You, and your all proud visage crumbling into one of a desperate, slut of a fiend.

“Well, when you put it in such a frank and vulgar manner...” Gale coughs, flushed, Astarion notices, inwardly grimacing. The wizard’s never been discreet about liking your musk – and today, it is especially honeyed and heavy around the campsite. “Yes.”

And that’s when it hits the rogue, the shared tension and ignited lust in everyone – not just Gale. It’s a slow and heavy shift, like puffs of smoke. The current of lust in the air runs deeper when a small, inviting moan permeates from your tent. The sounds of heavy breaths and trousers shifting from around the party, it all goes unobserved to any eye that doesn’t belong to an experienced rogue.

Still, the rest would’ve been fools to think only one or two of them would be intrigued, he thought. It was with a silent agreement amongst them that by the end of this week, you’d be thoroughly savoured.

The first thing you wake up to is a dull ache across the expanse of your stomach, and a pool of your own arousal drenching the bedroll between your legs. Your bed-kissed face tightens, glaring down at the growing tension in your belly. A groan is torn out of your dehydrated throat – and if the obvious lack of sun on your tent was anything to go by, you’ve slept through nearly the entire day.

Fuck, what was going on? Distoriented, you attempt to sit up only for the dull ache to morph into heated convulsions that immediately spread like wildfire around your weakened body. It was then that you realized that to your utter horror, you were burning hot, to the Nines and beyond — as if you were forcefully thrown into an early heat.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. No. The edges around your vision blackened for a split second before you violently lurched yourself out of your too-warm, too-cramped tent, slamming your palms and knees into the dirt ground and digging your nails in, your mouth open to welcome the hot pants stuck in your dry throat.

You spat out a vicious string of Infernal curses, your focus blurring in and out of itself. You shut your mouth, biting your lip to keep in whimpers, sweat trickling down from your forehead as your mind fought in vain against the primal urges now closing in on it; the feral ache for relief deeming itself more important than reason.

Relief. Fuck, it sounded good right now. You hissed, your mental resolve crumbling, tail furiously lashing against the dirt. Relief. Your eyes darted around the camp anything that could relieve the heat in your loins; Shadowheart and her healing hands or a cool river stream to let the water wash over you, but fuck, you needed real relief. A body you could sink your teeth into and ride until the next morning – preferably Karlach, or Halsin–!

Thick, strong Halsin.

“You feel good, little one.” Halsin quietly groaned up from above you, touching you as if he’s been longing to.

He moves inside you; thick cock bruising your insides. Every open-mouthed gasp and hurt or pleasured cry was eagerly welcomed into his own mouth with wet kisses. He was unrelenting, but kind. Full of sinew your hands could run across or scratch in slight distaste if the fat tip of his length pressed a sensitive spot deeper than you’d have liked. And without fail, he had laughed everytime, gentle and light, even if his deep thrusts into your spent hole were anything but.

He must have been trying to burrow in you with how deep he was inside, letting you raggedly cry into the slope of his neck meeting the thickness of his shoulder. Halsin set out to plant an apologetic kiss into the crook of yours, fucking you deep until you fluttered around him, dragging him to his peak alongside you.

No, you winced, tearing your eyes open and your mind out of its lust-ridden gutter, the burn inside you relentless. No Halsin nor Karlach, not a single soul that could provide you relief to be found around camp — and damn them all, you were in no state to be crawling around searching for even the slightest whiff of their scent in gods know where.

Relief.

Yet another infuriating wave of heat rolled through you, forcing you to clench your hands and drive dirt beneath your nails. What remained of your rationality sought out to the crevices of your memories, ones that weren’t flooded of nightly trysts with the druid elf or — Rolan.

Relief – Rolan. A drop of your drool hitting the ground; Rolan with his horns you could grip and sharp teeth that could sink into your shoulder. No doubt warmly cooped up in Ramazith’s Tower, signing trades or shoving his nose in dusty books. He’d do, for tonight – he’d understand, indulge you and lift you from the unbearable heat clouding your head. He wouldn’t mind, you know it, because you’d be a blind fool to not see the way his eyes would fondly trail over your face, or the dips in your body.

He wants you, and for tonight, you will do him a favor and want him back.

You urge your trembling body to stand up and begin the treacherous trek from camp to the Gate’s city.

It was only the next night, moon high, that you sauntered into camp instead of out your tent, sporting a relieved glow, a fresh set of bites around your throat, a heavy limp, and of course, the hands of a flushed Rolan around your waist.

Your ragtag party watched from their campfire logs, a petty and envious air about them whilst the winsome smile on your face turned into an airy laugh as Rolan tenderly cupped your jaw with his hands, whispering something that had you curling your tails together. You shook your head and sweetly pecked his cheek as he nodded and bumped your horns together like lovers as a bid goodbye before stepping back to part ways.

“Well?” Karlach greeted with an amiable smile as you joined the group’s circle, having been worriedly sniffing around and asking for you the entirety of the morning; your scent lingering faintly around the air but with no continued path as to exactly where you were. She knew firsthand the extent of pain and delirium heats could bring, and god forbid you had fallen in the wrong hands.

(And thankfully, you hadn’t. She was simply glad you found someone trustworthy to mingle with instead of being alone.)

You scooched near her with a charmingly teasing grin, matching her liveliness, turning a blind eye to the tension in the air. “Well, what?” And before the red-skin tiefling could play banter with you, a certain rogue had pettily overtook the conversation.

“Well, did you enjoy your little fling?” Astarion dryly teased, a goblet of wine in his spindly hands and a sardonic smile on his face. He let the wine swivel for a moment. “Enjoyed playing charity, whoring yourself out?”

Karlach quietly called out his name in a disappointed manner, either to scold or deter him from what next he could say.

“What can I say?” You entertain his snark, peeking around the campfire logs for a bottle of blingdenstone blush wine; grabbing ahold of ot and pouring yourself a goblet. Taking a gracious swig, you allow the fruity taste to melt on your tongue. “My company is sought after.”

“Sought after? You amuse me,” The pale elf laughs, dry in a manner that has you eyeing him, his hand tightening around the rusted goblet whilst you set down yours. “Are you sure?” He asks, glaring. “I’d say it’s desperation, on your side of the coin – you’d spread your legs to anyone asking politely, darling.”

You scrunch your nose at that, the warmth and flavor of the wine turning cold and bitter in your throat.

The silence is almost hostile around the campfire – the crackling of it serving to make it less awkward. “Take that damn wine out his hands,” you hear Wyll whisper to a reading Gale and a Lae’zel sharpening her dagger – but both the wizard and githyanki don faces that tell you they aren’t approving of your escapade either. You allow your eyes a brief roam around all their faces; finding it tightened in displeasure.

You don’t feel so well, all of a sudden. Some part inside you chalks it up to the wine.

Save for Karlach who was nudging you with her tail, pleading you from the corner of her eye; asking you to back down from Astarion. Considering it was an option until he opened his mouth once again, his breath smelling of merlot wine. “You’re missing out, you know.” He hisses when you raise him a brow.

“These flings you have,” he eyes around the party, making sure to pointedly look at Halsin for a second longer. You’re half-sure he’d vex Rolan if he was here. Slurring, he pauses again to savor another sip from his wine. “They can’t give you something real.” Your eyes meet his, hesitant, reading the unsaid but he can in them.

“You...” You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the light, the fire shedding a hopeful glint in his eyes for a split second at your tender tone of voice, face softening at the way you curl in yourself. “You’re drinking too much.” And just as quickly as it came, it left.

Something heavy twists in your gut; and you can’t quite decide if it’s from the wine, the second wave of your heat, or distress. Silently pushing yourself off the log, you might as well to take that soak in the river that you’d been dying for.

(You’re not very surprised to feel the many eyes piercing through you.)

Shortly after you left the circle, Karlach had followed you, indiscreet. It’s a game of chase, really – and she’s hot on your tail but you just keep evading her when she thinks she’s got you, a hairsbreadth away from her hands. The way your shoulders tremble with little laughs from your lips are not missed by her, and if she were any closer she’d chase it with her own.

(She smiles, not seen through the dark mouth of the night. Was it her presence or the alcohol that has made you soft?)

It’s not a long trek to the lake by any means, the path obscured by dense foliage she’d occasionally lose you in. Within moments, she’s at the edge of the water with the gravel crushing beneath her boots, overtaking the slow stream of water you’re delicately undressing by. Her longing gaze lingers on the slope of your jaw, the fullness of your lips and the fresh, deep indents of teeth along your shoulder. She’s unsure of whether it’s from Astarion’s feeding or Rolan.

It’s only when you’re fully bare that you turn to face her, that same plush smile that’s melted the hearts of hundreds.

“Are you joining me?” The sweet lilt of your voice makes the gears stop turning in Karlach’s nodding head, her body moving before her mind to start peeling away at her own clothes at the appealing invitation; wading into the water with you as soon as she’s done. A snort is pulled from her when you playfully splash at her with your tail when you hear her behind you.

“Don’t play a game you can’t win, you little...” Karlach jovially returns the splash, inwardly rejoicing at your giggle; this little, shared intimacy is nothing new, but it makes her heart lurch all the same. What she wouldn’t give to have more time with you.

By the gods, she could never get enough of that you and your joy. Some selfish, unbidden part of her hopes you’ll take her up on Wyll’s offer on the path to Avernus, for the sole reason to see it just a little longer.

She shifts around for a topic to hear your voice a little more, “How is your heat coming along?” The smile on your face falters slightly at her choice of inquiry – but you relax instantly. She’s one of your dearest friends, concern is her second nature.

“When is it never dreadful?” You shrug, casual though your words ring true. An unmated tiefling’s pain during a rut or heat was nothing short of agonizing. She watches the nervous swallow bob in your throat. “But I had a little bit of help- from Rolan.”

“Ah, the new master of the tower, was it?” You nod at her, and it comes to you once again that Karlach was no jealous woman. She was glad you had your fill of enjoyment. “He looks smitten with you; are you courting him?”

“Huh?” Your tail whacks against the relaxed surface of water in disbelief, a flush festering on your disgruntled face. “It’s more like the other way around, he bumped his horns to mine earlier.”

Karlach guffaws at your distress, tearing up with her joy until her breath catches on a sweet aroma. She squints, cautiously sniffing the air, once, twice – and she looks to you, pursing her lips when she realizes it isn’t the fragrances you’re washing over yourself; it’s just you, or rather, the second wave to your heat. She hopes the hunger welling in her isn’t clear in her eyes.

You smell really good, she thinks as she chews on the inside of her cheek, staring at the dip of your back as your turn around. And you’re a really good friend, too good, maybe. She feels what she’s about to do isn’t very good.

Karlach doesn’t know what compels her to do what she does but she follows like it’s law; catching your wrist in her hand, capturing your jaw in her other and kissing you tender, swallowing the gasp that comes out.

It’s only when the air starts to feel thick with your heat and her lust that she pulls away, a string of spit following you both – and she’s already pulling away, horror welling up in her eyes but before she can grovel with apologies, you’re reeling her right back to your spit-slick lips with a moan so utterly full of want it has her pulling you closer.

“I can help you,” she murmurs against your taste before pulling away, your want reassuring her she’s got nothing to be sorry for. Your heaving breasts press against her face when she dips half of herself in the water to wrap her arms around your legs. She pleads. “Let me help you. Please.”

Karlach carries you with her muscled arms and settles you on the edge of a rock, softly parting your legs for you and making herself a warm home between them. The way she looks up at you gives you a bashful knot in your stomach.

“Do you want this?” She swallows thick, as if to wash away the heavy weight of her need, eyes situating her hands on your hips with a trembling but still dominant grip. “Use your words.”

You nod, frantic. Breathy pants now visible in the hot air. “I do,” your tongue feels weak when you speak, looking at her with dazed eyes. “P-please, I- I want it, Kar.”

It’s all the push she needs to lick a stripe up your slit, rendering you still when she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks. It drags a heavy moan out of you and it’s nothing but music to her ears. She hopes it’s the sound that greets her in the afterlife instead of angels with their harps or trumpets.

“Ahah,” Karlach pants, hot against your clit, and you look down to see your slick running down her chin, her tail pulling you closer by your calf while yours whips around. “You taste so fucking good.” She murmurs against you, sending an arrow of pleasure straight through your trembling spine that makes her dive right back in, tracing your fluttering hole.

She tongues inside your hole, moaning when it tightens around her, fucking and writhing it around in response.

If the heat wasn’t so heavy, you’d think she was tracing her name on your cunt. You huff, rocking your hips into her face as much as you can with her hands firmly clasped around your hips. Your hands find themselves around her horns and they gently pull her head closer to you, riding her face as if to help brace you for the knot snapping in your stomach.

Karlach takes a moment to pause, smiling with your heady flavor on her lips, chuckling against your core. “So needy.”

You don’t last long, not with her smile and teeth and tongue around your folds, no, and it’s a blind rush of time and hot white when your thighs tremble around her head, mouth dropping open in a silent scream.

“Karlach...!” You cry her name, cumming and convulsing around her tongue with open-mouthed moans. Her grip on you tightens, an Infernal curse leaving her as your slick taste floods her mouth. Her hands run over you, the small of your back, your hips and then to your ass, gripping the fat of it to keep you still while she laps at what little you have left to give; only giving in when you whimper and try to kick her away.

(In the rational crevices of your head, you’d hate to prove Astarion right about being a whore but fuck, does she make you feel good.)

It’s soft silence that fills the air, after you both cease your panting. You stare at the stars, head foggy with the orgasm that racked your body, humming when Karlach gently sets you in her arms again to wash your arousal away in the water while your head contentedly lies against her shoulder.

“Let’s get you to your bed, hm?” She coos, bumping her horns against yours – only letting you go to stand up again when she finishes washing and drying you, allowing you to clothe yourself. Time is a blur then, as you spend it aided to walk by her warm arms, staring at the intricate maze of foliage you’re surrounded about.

You’re snapped out your limping daze when you look around to see the foliage isn’t dark anymore, lit around by hues of oranges from a familiar campfire. Karlach grins, closed-eye as she squeezes you and kisses you warmly before nudging you towards the direction of your tent, quaintly lit up by a candlelight lamp you set inside earlier.

“Go inside,” she coaxes you, all-kind. It’s a certain emptiness you feel when you peel yourself away from her warmth with a whine that has her chuckling and pressing her lips against yours again. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You do as she says, stumbling inside your tent and falling with a thud to your soft bed – but not without curling your lips into a loving smile, savoring the memory of her. It’s the last thing you see before you succumb to the hands of rest.

Fuck.

It’s the middle of the night when you’re next startled awake.

And it’s no surprise when you wake up to yet another surge of dull aching and your own arousal just starting to drip out of you. You waste little time; stumbling like a fawn out your tent, movements laden with the remnants of sleep –

You’re halfway out when your face slams against a body; lithe and cold, and in your sleep-ridden state, you could be convinced you just bumped into a slab of ice draped in flesh. But you urge your heavy lids to open up, to see the man, well, vampire you’d bickered with earlier, staring down at you from the very opening.

“Astarion,” you state, bleary-eyed and fisting your nightshirt closer; the fleece of it grounding you under his piercing gaze. Your heart is beating quick; a brief thought hopes it stays beating, and you will it away. You have half the mind to ask what he’s doing in front of your tent, but you have no time. The air is thick. The heat inside you is boiling. You need relief – Rolan.

“I...” Your words crawl in your throat, the line of your brows furrowing when you feel the familiar pinpricks of your heat pressing into you. “Please, move. I have somewhere to be.”

You almost feel small under the depth of his gaze; everything about him reeks of fury mingling with need.

“Off to find another bed to warm, I assume?” Astarion hisses with the slightest slur, the breath which he speaks out carrying the scent of fine wine – the air around him dangerous. Starving. He moves closer, and you, in all your confusion, slowly crawl back into your tent, unsure on what to fight first; the heat that consumes you or the danger you feel is about to overtake you.

“Astarion,” you mumble, this time with a bleat to your voice and your eyes wide like the lamb to be drained and slaughtered you feel you are. The air is heady; laden with fear and need thick like honey. Everything around you is too much. Where is Rolan? Karlach?

A hand tightens around your ankle, refusing to let go even as you yelp and watch Astarion force his way inside your cramped tent and crawls himself between your legs to nestle his face in the crook of your neck.

“No, no,” You whisper to him, shifting under him in a panic when you feel his familiar lips on your neck. “I’m sorry but you cannot feed from me tonight, Astarion. I need to leave, now.”

“I’m not here to drain you dry, silly.” Astarion’s voice is husky, breathy. It has you clenching your thighs around his hips; his hands clasp around yours in return. “Though, I am starving, I have something else in store for little you.” You grit in discomfort, the unease and desire a blend that you feel entirely drunk on.

(He would never admit it but that tender pit of terror in you has him salivating.)

“Leave...!” You hiss. He chuckles at that; the sound velvet-rich and grating, and does exactly the contrary – pushing himself closer to you until you’re chest-to-chest. You hate that you cannot see him tucked away to your neck. It does not help he is close to your raw, still-sensitive core; you have nothing on save for a long, flowy poet’s shirt thanks to a certain crimson tiefling.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I can’t have you running off to somebody else.”

It’s then that you feel it; the press of a cruel, toothy smile against your throat and something of leather, something of warmth digging into the meat of your thigh. He is not here to drain you out of his anger, rather, he’s here to devour you, prey on you. You fear you’ve catched on belatedly.

“Mfh. I don’t want–” Your late, futile resistance is met with a finger to your lips, flushed thighs being pushed further apart as his hips slot between yours. Somewhere in the back of your muddled mind, you hear yourself keen with delight at the friction before he hushes you.

“You’re right, you don’t want it.” Astarion croons, watching as you writhe your hips against his for friction, as your bare cunt instictively grinds against the hot imprint of his still-clothed cock even as your head grasps for even a thread of coherence. “You need it, need this - need me.”

Your body does not deny his claim, arching your hips to meet his grinding, swollen folds clinging to his leather trousers – the pit in your stomach and the crawl up your spine indistinguishable between dread and ecstasy. The line of reason and morals are once again blurred in your head.

You curse yourself for having indulged in the alcoholic delicacy earlier. He’s emboldened by the wine; you’re weakened by it. The finger on your lips slip inside your mouth, firm on your tongue. You gag on it when his other hand clasped on your hip reaches down in between your legs and feels around for your, unsurprisingly, dripping vulva, the both of you gasping in delight.

“You’re soaked. What a fine surprise!” He chuckles, continuing to buck his clothed erection into your heat, petting your hair when you moan around his fingers. “I hope it’s because of me and not just your little heat.”

Your body is transparent, visceral with him, loyal to the promise of pleasure he can give you – even if your mind, what is left of your rationality indignantly fights tooth and nail to convince your body to stop giving in to animalistic pleasure.

It’s not long then, until Astarion becomes impatient, always having been; unlacing the ties on his trousers with one skilled hand and leaning over you to toss it off – it’s all too quick for your swarmed mind to catch up to, and the next thing you see and know is that you’re hissing through your teeth and thrashing while he pushes the burning head of his cock into you, hushing you as if you were a distressed animal. Your muscles tense, jerking away, a feeble little no on your lips—

But it’s an easy intrusion, a quick thrust into you is all it takes to bury himself deep with the help of your slick and his pre. He groans as, eyes rolling back as yours start to prick with tears, hold tightening on you as you whimper and turn limp like a ragdoll to his experimental thrusting. Some part of you wants to preen at the pleasure; the honeyed heat inside you pleased.

“Good- fuck, good pet.” He breathily murmurs, clasping a hand around your hip again; alternating between sensual grinding and abruptly slamming into you. All while he laughs and watches with a vicious smile as you’re torn between pathetically moaning and crying, the fingers in your mouth helping to muffle the sounds.

“See? Not so bad if you just close your eyes and give in.” He presses down particularly hard on your tongue when you wail at a sharp, unexpected thrust. He couldn’t have someone from the party playing hero. “I’m trying to help you.”

Tears sting at the corner of your eye, and you have no doubt you look pitiful right now - but fuck, he feels good. You don’t want to admit it, but you won’t deny it either; you needed this. And though you would have preferred to have it be Rolan, all gentle, rutting into you with sweet whispers and even sweeter promises, the heat in your body cannot be satiated with the tenderness he can give you. But you would rather stake him first than admit he’s helping you fill that gaping need in you.

“Astarion...” You furrow your brows and swallow around his fingers, your own life clinging to the back of your throat. It’s with a certain horror and desperation that you realize you’re approaching the edge faster than you’d like – and you know he knows, because he pulls his fingers out your mouth and presses a warm, spit-slick thumb to your aching clit. Your hole flutters around him, and you writhe around, the tightening burn of your incoming orgasm too much to handle. Pleasured, honeyed mewls are wrenched from you as his hips snap, driving his cock deep.

Astarion purrs – a hand on your thigh to help him slam into you, gripping hard enough to form bruises whilst the other was relentless at your clit. It’s with a shriek that you fall apart, seizing on his thrusts that only seem to quicken, the wet sound of skin on skin and your crying permeating through the entire camp, no doubt. He coos when a whine slips out of you, a tear gliding from your eye.

You’re seeing fucking white, blots of black dotted along your vision by the time he greedily slams inside you a final time with a low groan – something pleasingly warm filling you up, satiating you. Astarion holds your face and tugs it meet his for a breathy, passionate kiss whilst he twitches seed inside you - smiling in delight against your lips when you melt.

Relief is found; a warm glow settling on you despite your lids fighting their damndest to stay up. You’re a soft, slow little thing now, all but warm and ready to be taken by approaching slumber. Astarion gladly takes the chance to lie on his side and gather you in his arms, lips curving sweet yet again, but with less threat, as he watches you contentedly curl yourself up against his side. He sighs at the warmth that washes over him, thankful that fatigue has tamed you and fanned out that little spark and scratch you had earlier.

“Happy?” The smitten vampire asks, cheeky, smug as he pulls you closer into him, massaging your sore hips. “No need for you to go looking around for victims when you have me at your disposal, darling. I’d hate for you to lose sight on what really matters.”

You hum as if far away, you’d slap him in the morning that comes, but for now you’d let yourself be lulled into a soft, gentle slumber. A kiss on your head is the last thing you feel, a feeble little goodnight whispered.

[starlessea2]

That It Is (Astarion)

Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]

Summary: After a long day trudging through the sunlit wetlands, you discover your bedroll is waterlogged, and that Astarion has lost his in the swamp... AKA, the classic: ‘oh no, there’s one bed, whatever shall we do, darling?’ (Act 1 spoilers).

A/N This one has a tad more enemies-to-lovers vibe to it, but sweetness nonetheless. 

Masterlist

Night was creeping over Faerûn.

After a day of toiling through the deep murk of the sunlit wetlands, your party had found refuge: an abandoned shack a little ways inland from the swamp. It was unassuming enough through the fog that Gale had tripped over its porch, and even Astarion’s darkvision had missed the contours of the old building tucked away. 

But once scoped, you found that the place was empty. Shadowheart deemed it safe enough for you to unpack your bedrolls and dry your waterlogged boots. So you did just that—even managing to rouse a fire with an ignis and a few pieces of damp wood. 

The flames took a few moments to blaze to life, but once they did, the warmth was heavenly on your skin. One by one, you started to shed your wet outer garments, laying them out by the fire.

“Oh, bloody hells!”

A voice rang out over the crackling hearth. You turned to find Astarion on his knees, rummaging through his supply pack half-deranged.  

He flung the contents out onto the floor: some soggy books, a cask of water, pristinely-folded clothes. Then he promptly turned the pack upside down, seemingly devestated to find nothing else inside.

The rogue threw his hands up. “Gone,” he declared, with a dejected sort of laugh. “Be it just my luck after trudging through this gods forsaken waste—”

From the corner of the room, Shadowheart stopped wringing out her gloves. She gave you a look. Deal with him, she said through the shared connection. 

With a sigh, you conceded. “What’s wrong, Astarion?” You stood over the pale elf, hand on hip, “Broken a nail?” 

Irritation painted his face, but his demeanour remained playful.“Ha! Hilarious as always, my dear,” he replied, without sparing you so much as a glance. “Alas, I’m afraid my situation is a tad more dire.” 

You clicked your tongue. “Go on.”

Astarion stood up, taking a moment to dust himself off. “It seems I’ve lost my bedroll somewhere in that bloody marsh,” he finally admitted. 

Somewhere across the room, Shadowheart’s snort was quickly covered up by a faux cough from Gale. “Oh?” you said, “I thought elves didn’t need to sleep.” 

Astarion shot you a glare. “And do you need to dry your clothes by the fire? Need to eat tonight or, gods forbid, drive us half mad with your infernal singing sometime tomorrow?” 

He stalked the cabin, pointing vivaciously at your drying garments, and menial rations you’d hoped wouldn’t spoil. 

You felt your brow furrow at his display. “No need to be rude,” you said shortly. “Today’s been hard on all of us.” Pushing past him, you quickly retrieved your own pack from its place near the door. “Here—just take mine.”

Fishing around the bag, you searched for your own bedroll before producing it for him. Astarion let out a sound of disgust. 

“You could at least try to be grateful, Astarion,” you started. Then you felt it; your trusted bedroll squelched in your hand. It was pasted with a layer of thick algae, and some other mysteries you couldn’t discern. “Son of a—” you cursed. How had you forgotten when it rolled into the marsh earlier in the day?

A hand found your shoulder. “Thanks for the generous offer, my dear, but I think I’ll pass,” Astarion said, proudly. He then flicked a rather large leech off your bedroll, causing Gale to shriek when it landed at his feet. “I’d like to remain the only bloodsucker around here.”

You were about to quip back, when Astarion stepped closer—enough so that his breath dusted your cheek when he spoke. “And I think I spy a bed in the other room. That should do me just fine.” 

It took you a moment to unravel his words. By the time you did, he’d already traipsed halfway across the cabin. “Hang on a moment,” you called after him,“I already staked my claim on that earlier!”

“Hmm?” the elf hummed, feigning ignorance.

The audacity. You shot a glance back at the wizard, who immediately threw his hands up in surrender. “Oh no, you don’t,” warned Gale, “I’m staying out of this one.”

To his left, Shadowheart looked equally unbothered by your plight. You scowled at them both. 

It was going to be a long night.

—

The cabin was quiet. It had been some time since you had rested in a place with a roof and four walls. There were no beasties lurking near your camp, or dangers beyond the trees. The only threat to your person was Gale’s snores coming from the main living space. He’d taken refuge on the floor, whilst Shadowheart seized the chaise lounge. 

It was a comfortable night. So in principle, you should have had no problem falling into a dreamless sleep. Especially given the feather bed at your back. 

“You know, my dear,” Astarion whispered, “I might have agreed to this arrangement, but that was under the condition that you get some sleep.”

You tried not to startle, but his words sounded so close to your ear. It made your skin prickle with anticipation—despite doing your utmost not to show it. 

“I think you’ll find I was the one who was forced to agree,” you countered, “and I’m trying. You just—” 

Shifting in the bed, you turned around to face the elf beside you. He was leaning on one arm, gazing up at the wooden ceiling as though he were watching the stars. His eyes found yours. “I what?” he asked. 

You could hear his grin; he was teasing you. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of backing down now. “You make me nervous,” you answered bluntly. 

He did not reply. Each second of silence that passed made you more and more uneasy. You couldn’t see him well in the dark. And as much as you tried to make out the contours of his face, you knew for sure discern every line on yours—every expression you hoped to conceal. “And why’s that?” he finally asked.

You let out a huff before falling onto your back. “You know why. Stop acting so smug—It doesn’t suit you."

Astarion’s laugh made its way to you. “Everything suits me, darling.” 

A witty remark alluded you, so you opted to stay quiet. Sleep was what you needed right now. The gods only know how deprived you were of it.

So you plumped your pillow and made yourself comfortable. Then you gathered some blankets to yourself. A yawn left you, but your mind felt anything but relaxed. You readjusted again, this time your body pressing into Astarion's. He moved to accomodate you; you stiffened in response.

“Will you stop wriggling around? I can’t so much as move without you flinching."

At his words, your breath hitched. You were midway through an apology before he interrupted.

“Look at me,” he said.

Despite the darkness, his thumb perfectly traced your jaw until it found the space just under your chin. Gently, he coaxed your head up.

“You know I’ve drank from you, right?” You gasped at his candidness. “I've felt your pulse on my tongue and your blood coat my teeth,” he went on. “Hells, I have your thoughts swimming in my head far more often than you probably realise.”

He paused for a moment, and in that time you breathed twice as fast as you ought to.

“You’ve allowed me that much, so sleeping beside me like this?” he said, with a lightness to his voice, “that shouldn’t matter, now should it.”

You couldn't reply. His words were likely meant to comfort, but they had only the opposite effect. As his fingers brushed your cheek, you immediately pulled back—hoping he did not feel the way you burned for him.

“No. I guess not?” you stuttered.

“Good,” came his reply. “Now sleep. I promise I won’t bite” 

He returned to his side of the bed, not overstepping the invisible boundary you'd drawn earlier that evening.

And on your side, you were left to press down whatever feelings threatened to bubble to the surface. You weren’t quite ready to let them out yet��not when you couldn’t see clearly the face he would make in response.

Right now, you just needed to sleep.

So you focused on the snores echoing from the other room, the rain pattering the windows, Astarion's breaths and your heart—which, without realising, had recently started to beat for him.

“Goodnight, Astarion,” you whispered into the dark.

“Yes, my dear," he said softly. "That it is."

[justporo]

Instead of Roses

It's your birthday! And oh, your vampire knows how to treat you so well - in every kind of way.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Well, technically my birthday is already over by half an hour - but we'll say it counts. I wanted to write a *small* self-indulgent thing for myself as much as you as a treat. Don't we all know how these things go in the end around here... Have tooth-rotting fluff that turns into smut! Enjoy!

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with feelings, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal sex, creampie, aftercare Wordcount: 3,1k

~~~

You woke from Astarion softly kissing your cheek. His lips on your face feeling like a feather caressing it. He whispered against your skin in between kisses, making his way down to your throat. You felt his cool breath brush over your skin, leaving goosebumps on the nape of your neck.

Being softly dragged from your dreams you needed a few moments until you could make out what sweet nothings your vampire kept murmuring against your pulse point before he pressed his lips to the delicate skin there again.

“Good morning, darling,” Astarion mumbled again when you slowly opened your eyes and began stretching with him leaning over you, loosely caging you with his arm he was propped up on. “Happy birthday, my sweet,” he continued, his words so low they were merely more than a rumble in his throat.

“Hm, is it?” you murmured back sleepily and turned your head a little so you could look at your lover. Astarion was smiling ever so softly at you, curls still messy from sleep but his crimson eyes glimmering happily at you. He was shirtless - but had pants on for some reason - while you remained pleasantly naked beneath the covers.

You rolled your neck and stretched your limbs - like a cat would after getting up from a good rest. Astarion eyed you lovingly, smile growing into his signature smirk. He was definitely up to something - but when wasn’t he?

“I know you said you didn’t know when your actual birthday is,” he explained, cocking his head to his side observing you as you raised your eyebrows at him and couldn’t resist a deep yawn that rolled over you - and another big stretch. “So I thought: wouldn’t today be just perfect?” Astarion concluded and kissed you fully on the lips before nuzzling his nose behind one of your pointy ears, tickling you.

You shivered and chuckled and tried to push him off. But this only resulted in the pale elf wrapping his naked arms around you and tickling you more with the tip of his nose at the nape of your neck.

Wiggling in his arms you tried to escape him but it was no use.

Rolling around your enormous bed while the vampire was teasing you - his hands joining in to tickle you at your waist - it threatened to turn into full blown melee combat. Even with your hand in his face and fingers spread to push him off, Astarion only laughed and doubled down on his attacks by trying to nibble on your fingers - damned vampire.

But as you looked around for a weapon other than a pillow that, shoved in a vampire’s face, emitted a loud hiss from the predator but nothing more, your eyes wandered over something on your nightstand. And suddenly you smelled it too!

Stopping your efforts to escape Astarion - and he apparently deemed you sufficiently teased by tickling - you saw that a nice plate of scrambled eggs with veggies, a bowl of fresh strawberries and a nice steaming cup of tea was placed there. Along with a single white blossom that you recognised from your tiny garden, placed in a random chalice that usually was meant for wine.

“You made me breakfast?” you asked, feeling how warmth filled your chest at the image of a half-naked Astarion standing in the kitchen of your small townhouse to prepare food for you. You moved around a little until you were laying on your side. Astarion softly wrapped his arms around you and scooched up to you until he was spooning you. He pressed another kiss to the crown of your head.

“Of course, isn’t that what spouses do for their partner’s birthdays?”

Your heart was about ready to melt.

You craned your neck to give your vampire a kiss.

The eggs were a bit burned you had noticed. But it all smelled delicious and he’d prepared all your favourite things for you. He was really trying so hard - and succeeding even harder.

“You’re the sweetest, Astarion!” You beamed at him.

The vampire looked very pleased with himself.

“I know. Aren’t I just the best” - you hummed in agreement - “handsomest” - another hum but with lips curling into a teasing pout - “most forthcoming” - you huffed lightly - “and smar-”

Grabbing a nearby pillow you smacked him in the face with it. “And so humble too,” you replied sickeningly sweet as Astarion hissed at you once more and shoved the pillow out of his face - his hair even a little worse for wear than before.

You giggled while the vampire acted as if he was brooding - the corners of his lips dragging up betraying him though.

“Insolent little mi-”

But once more you interrupted him by straining to turn around to grab his face and kiss him. With your mouth moving against his you tried to convey how much your chest was swelling with love for him at this lovely gesture. How much you adored him.

And just to be sure: “You’re the best, Astarion,” you whispered against his lips while you felt the vampire’s hands start to roam under the covers while he hummed happily - not only soothed but pleased.

His hands kept wandering as the kiss deepened and slowed. And you gasped lightly into his mouth, as you sensed what he was about to do.

“I have more in stock for you, my sweet,” the vampire murmured against your lips when he broke the kiss as you felt his fingers purposefully slide down your naked form beneath the covers before quickly diving between your legs. You turned your head away once more, closing your eyes and felt how Astarion moved his head to lightly bite down on one of your pointy ears.

“So much more.”

His voice was almost a growl directly in it. You were still on your side, Astarion wrapped around you. He pressed his lips to this spot directly below your ear and made you shudder.

“Oh?” you almost moaned as the vampire’s long fingers stroked along your core, already getting wet from that and his sinful promise.

“Did you get me roses too?” you tried to tease him. But the way his index began circling your clit was making it hard to keep even an edge of sass towards the vampire in your voice.

Involuntarily, you bucked your hips with a gasp when his fingers stroked along the sensitive bud between your legs more forcefully. You rubbed your ass against his crotch, snuggled up behind you. Even through the covers and his pants you felt that he was just as hard for you as you were wet for him.

“No roses, my heart,” Astarion replied, lips directly at your ear again.

“I thought I’d give you something even more pleasant instead,” he whispered and in time with his words let two of his fingers enter you, taking you by surprise.

A moan was ripped from your lips. You threw your head back and arched your spine.

“How thoughtful of you,” you replied breathlessly as you felt your lover’s fingers wandering to your clit again, covering it in your own slick. Astarion just laughed haughtily, knowing exactly the effect he had on you.

The heat pooling between your legs as you absent-mindedly pressed your thighs together for even more friction was quickly becoming like lava. And Astarion didn’t give you much of a break. His other hand was working its way to your boobs now. It began to squeeze them, the vampire’s long fingers spread out, squishing them together as more lewd sounds spilled from your lips.

“Fuck,” you cursed when at the same time his fingers entered your cunt again and with his other hand he rolled your hardened nipple between his thumb and index.

“Who, love?” Astarion teased. “Me?” Another finger entered you. “You?” His other fingers pinched the hardened peak of your breasts. The groan caught in your throat.

“Both, you bastard,” you pressed out followed by a desperate moan as the vampire worked your body like a musician did his beloved instrument. Caressing and teasing simultaneously, lovingly but with force plucking and stroking to elicit the sweetest notes from you.

Gods, you needed more. You tried to open your legs to give your lover better access to work his magic but felt the bed sheets restrict you. With a frustrated groan you kicked them away, aided by Astarion momentarily letting go of your breasts. But once you were freed of all fabric his hand was quickly back where it had left off, kneading your tits as they felt heavy with lust.

You opened your legs wide for Astarion with a dreamy sigh as he pressed himself against you from behind harder now, rubbing his hardened length against your ass. With a grunt he bucked his hips into you as he rewarded your eagerness by stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb now.

He was doing this for you, you knew. But as his grip on you became stronger, a little more desperate and you felt his hard dick press against you, you knew this was as thrilling for him as it was for you. And that made the moans coming from you almost turn into growls while you arched your back harder, desperate to give you both some more friction to work with.

To be desired and loved by a man like him-

Just knowing this made you almost unravel fully beneath his deft fingers.

Astarion had buried his face at your neck, his lush curls softly tickling you and sending electric shivers through you.

For a while the room was filled with nothing but breathless, needy sounds from each of you.

“Astarion,” you moaned as you were practically grinding against his hand, trying to get more of this delicious sensation. Your vampire merely groaned in response - barely taking in how desperately his name was rolling off your tongue.

Your lover’s hands were all busy with offering you all the pleasure he thought you deserved. And seemingly his mind was all filled with you as well as his face was buried in your hair, his gasps and moans brushing over you. You felt his hardened length twitch in need even through his clothes.

“Astarion,” you exclaimed again, even more desperation in your voice now, feeling as if you might perish on the spot when his fingertips hit just that spot as they dragged over your clit again.

“What is it, my love?” he replied, voice almost as desperate as yours.

“Me-,” you gasped and bit your lip hard as the way your nipple was teased sent another jolt through your entire body. The vampire just made a quizzical sound in response.

 “Godsdammit,” you pressed out as he gave you not a moment of peace with how his hands worked your body. You could barely form half a thought.

“Fuck me, Astarion,” you almost shouted in frustration, your hands helplessly curling in the sheets. The tension inside you became almost unbearable.

But thankfully your partner finally moved to fulfil your request.

Astarion only shortly moved away from you to wiggle out of his pants while cursing profusely. Just by the way the bed was swaying under his struggles showed you how desperate he too must have been to answer your plea.

Quickly, you let your own hands take the place of your lovers’ so as to not lose any steam: squeezing your own tits with a moan. And with the other feeling how obscenely wet he’d gotten you. You  were a heated, desperate mess already - and you weren’t nearly done.

Soon after, you felt Astarion roll around again, his arms wrapping around you once more, his hands covering yours, lacing with them. His dick was hard as granite as he moved to let it slide along your hot, wet folds.

For a few delicious long moments your lover was rolling his hips into you, making his twitching length slide along your slit again and again - precum mixing with your wetness - while his and your hands together played around with you.

Your pleasure became his and vice versa, as if there were no bounds between his body and yours.

The sounds you made rose in pitch and lewdness as you revelled in the sensation and how wonderfully debaucherous it felt to be touched and caressed like that by the love of your life. And yet you didn’t even have him where you wanted him.

“Gods,” Astarion breathed as he took you in. How you writhed in his embrace: so needy and yet giving him so much. His movements almost halted, to bewitched by you. So you reminded him of what exactly you wanted.

“Fuck me, Astarion,” you pleaded with him again, grinding against his cock and his hand now to get him moving again. “Fuck me hard.”

Astarion’s breath caught in his throat at your harsh and enticing demand.

“Fuck me until I see stars,” you kept begging, your words like the beckoning song of a siren in the vampire’s ears.

Oh how sweet you sounded as you requested such frivolity, tempting him.

And Astarion wasn’t one to resist temptation. Not if it was so much more rewarding to give in. Not if it was you.

Suddenly he could barely move fast enough to comply, even with his roguish quickness and dexterous hands.

His fingers that had been teasing your tits together with yours grabbed your already lifted leg to give him easier access to your core. And between your legs your hands quickly worked together to lead the head of his impatiently jerking cock to your entrance. But not before you hadn’t let your hand stroke along his erect length, earning a helpless grunt that almost became a whimper from Astarion as your palm dragged along his cock and then his balls.

“Fuck,” he swore.

And somehow you found it in you to reply even as the head of his cock was sinking into you. “Who?” you teased, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You or me?”

But the vampire had the upper hand now as he bucked his hips to sink into you to the hilt with a single hard thrust. “You,” he growled back as you yelped in surprise. “In every sense possible.”

You tried to grip for something - for balance or to help you cope with the sudden sensation of how full you were, you didn’t even know. But Astarion didn’t let your hand, still joined with his between your legs, escape. So just the other curled in the sheets until your knuckles showed white.

Still trying to catch your breath you already felt how he almost fully withdrew from you. You mirrored him by slowly breathing out

But Astarion caught you off guard again, thrusting into you again, forcefully. His hand wrapped around your leg spread you further for him as he did it again. Slowly but vigorously rutting into you in a ragged rhythm that left you near breathless.

“Astarion,” you managed to utter between two thrusts. You were barely able to cope with how hard he fucked you now but still the way his name fell from your lips coaxed him on. Meanwhile you nearly lost your mind by how well you fulfilled your wish.

His thrusts became faster and harder still as he lifted you almost off the bed in his eager need to feel you. Feel you as fully and entirely as he could.

The hand between your legs, still entwined with yours, made your fingers circle around your clit together again as you had forgotten about it; too lost in how roughly he fucked you.

With every single thrust he hit so deep he was already making good on making you see stars and you knew your release would shatter you completely - not just stars then but a whole universe.

Nearing the edge and with the vampire plunging into you forcefully and fast now, you gave up on trying to keep your balance. But your vampire kept you close and steady, rearranging his other arm not spreading your legs for him so you were snuggly with your back against his chest.

And so he could keep moaning into your ear while the sounds you made became more and more  desperate whimpers: almost unable to keep up and also still begging for more. There was nothing left to form words anymore. Just him inside you and at the same time all around you as you felt the last of your threads came undone.

Your joint fingers between your legs mirrored his strong, fast pace and then-

You came with a scream and your voice breaking as Astarion kept fucking you through your orgasm. Floating somewhere far above your body, shuddering helplessly as the pinnacle of lust shook through you, you felt how Astarion came as well, dick twitching and spilling inside of you while he moaned your name over and over again like a credo. And even then he kept thrusting again, twice, thrice more in slow and hard movements, drawing out your orgasm for you and you drifted up even further.

Until you toppled over together in a shuddering, breathless mess, too exhausted to speak while you slowly returned to your earthly body.

Astarion carefully helped you lower your shivering leg and his arms held you carefully as you were almost laying on your stomach, him above you.

Still breathless and void of speech, he pressed a kiss to your cheek as you had your face buried in the pillows you were laying on.

Your vampire withdrew from you and began whispering soft loving words to you while his hands began rubbing your body.

When you finally had the breath and the mind for it you sluggishly mumbled something into the pillows.

“What’s that, my sweet?” Astarion asked who even with his vampiric senses couldn’t make out your words.

You turned your head slightly. “I said I love you, Astarion,” you repeated.

“I love you too, darling.”

“And then I said that I fear the eggs are cold now,” you repeated truthfully and yawned as a wave of blissful exhaustion from the earth shattering sex you just had washed over you.

From your lowered position you saw how your vampire stared quizzically at you. Then he burst into laughter. He slowly climbed off you and off the bed.

“Well, you insisted I’d fuck you first, so whose fault is that, my sweet, hm?”

Laughing more, he dodged the pillow that came flying for his head. Then he grabbed his pants and pulled them on.

“But just because it’s your birthday,” Astarion said with a pointed look, a dramatic sigh and a smirk on his lips “I’m making you fresh ones.”

And then with a wink he was off.

You smiled broadly - so hard your face hurt - and stayed there for a moment longer, reminiscing about how much you loved this stupid idiot.

Then you jumped off the bed, grabbed something to throw over your naked body and ran after Astarion to keep him company while he would inevitably burn another round of eggs for you.

~~~ If you enjoyed this you can support me by reblogging this! You can also support me on Kofi (pinned post on my profile)! ~~~ Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @miss-rebel-without-applause

[dark-and-kawaii]

꧁༺ 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 ༻꧂

Astarion loses sight of you in a fight, he fears the worse has happened to you. He finds you and manages to bring you back to shadowheart for healing, only to discover he has more to protect than just you…

Angst - Hurt - Comfort - Pregnancy

(Click For Part Two)

You were fearless. He watched as you swung your dagger effortlessly, piercing into the necks of their enemies.

He wondered how you still managed to look elegant even when covered in the blood of fallen warriors.

His gaze never left you for too long, making sure you were safe, while he stealthed around the makeshift arena, racking up his own share of kills. How glorious this was! There was so much blood splattering all around them and with his love at his side it truly couldn’t get any better.

Astarion’s eyes couldn’t be everywhere though, and at some point, he lost sight of you. The last person to recognize him for what he’s worth, the one person he truly couldn’t afford to lose.

His head darted across the battlefield, desperately trying to find you. His panic plunged into sheer dread as fear overcame him. It was happening all over again, he’d seen this before… Alone.. No, please, he couldn’t let this be his fate.

He hadn’t felt fear this whole day; why should he? He was free of Cazador, had you- A subtle manic laugh drew from his throat, he’d never be free of fear, instead of fearing for himself or what his old master would do to him he now feared what would happen to you when in danger.

His red eyes turned a dark shade of black. The expression of a crazy man etched onto Astarion’s face. No, he wouldn’t let fear consume him, no more! He’d finally be the protector! Overcome with fury he went on a rampage. Cutting through the battlefield, slaughtering anyone and everyone in his way, determined to find you. He raced over to where he last saw you, faster than a blue dragon's lightning splits through the air in a storm.

Was he truly going to be the reason you passed on to the next life. Was his fate to destroy everything he held near and dear to his heart? He nearly killed you before with his own fangs and now, no! He wasn’t the cause of that, was he? He hadn’t ever tasted human blood before, but if he was stronger it wouldn’t have happened! If he would’ve ascended he would’ve been able to stop this, however he’s still just a spawn… How could you have fought for his love, a fool who couldn’t even protect you. A fool who was going to be the reason you die.

“FIND HER” He roared at the top of his lungs. “FIND TAV!”

The group of companions didn’t dare hesitate and instantly started searching the grounds, Gale being the second most worried.

Astarion was about to collapse to his knees before hearing Gale's voice, “I’ve found her!” in the distance. It filled him with more apprehension. All he could think is, ’what if she’s dead’.

Staggering up the hill where Gale’s voice had come from, Astarion can see a figure laying in the dirt next to the wizard, “No! You can’t die dammit! Get up!!” he rushed out his words, dismay evident in his tone as he knelt next to you.

“She is unconscious, but alive. There’s hope.” Gale replied.

Astarion let out a shaky breath of relief.

“We must get her back to camp,” Astarion demanded. “She needs Shadowheart, she’s the only one who can fix this!” His voice cracked despite his efforts to mask it.

“I agree.” Gale, mere inches from grabbing you to lift you in his arms until the pale elf stopped him, “Don’t touch her!- I- I will carry her.” Trying to compose himself he lifted you bridal style.

Astarion never left your side during Shadowhearts attempts to heal you. Time never bothered him, not after his 200 years of torment, he waited as “patiently” as he could.

“Honestly, how long does it take! You could at least give me some good news!”

Shadowheart continued to focus on you best she could, everyone including the gods were used to Astarions fits at this point. Gale on the other hand not so much, he could hear Astarion all the way in his own tent which caused the wizard to scrunch his nose. Eventually, leading him to where you were being treated, “Astarion, why don’t you join me in some wine. I’ve got quite the choices, besides… It might be best if we give her some space.”

Astarion scowled, “You expect me to leave her side to join you in some cheap wine? Really? I didn’t think you could get anymore annoying, Gale.”

“It’s done. She’ll be fine after some more rest.” Shadowheart stood from your side and wipes the blood off her hands. She’s been traveling with you and these two men for far too long, toning out their bickering was a skill of hers at this point.

Turning to face you, if his heart could beat he knows it would’ve dropped in his chest this very moment… “Leave us-“ kneeling down next to your bedroll, his eyes fixed on your bandaged wound, “please.”

“I was able to save her,” -Shadowheart bent down towards Astarion- “and the child, but it took most of my energy and resources… Don’t ask for me again for a while. Keep them both safe.”

He was quiet, his eyes wide after the news he was just told.

“Ahhh,” Shadowheart’s voice was surprised, “she didn’t tell you yet? Hmm or perhaps she hadn’t known yet? Curious.”

Astarion could only stare at his love, “A-are you for certain?”

Gale interjected, “I doubt her magic would deceive her, congratulations.”

Dark bruises and cuts decorated your once perfect skin. A deep purple shade surrounded your right puffy eye. His eyes traveled further down your body, stopping at your stomach.

He caressed your still flat stomach, causing you to wince and awake. Retreating his hand, he awaited for your eyes to open and look up at him.

A-Astarion?” You spoke with a small smile carved on your lips.

“Yes, my love. It’s me.” He struggled out, trying his best not to crumble.

You were both silent, hands entwined with one another thankful that you both can spend another day alive in the presence of another.

He was the first to break the silence, “thank you.”

You were so weak, but you wanted to know why he was thanking you out of the blue, “For what?” Your voice barely heard.

“For this,” his hand stretching out to rest on your abdomen, “for giving me purpose again.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, not knowing what he was talking about until it finally hit you. Your arm wavered as you lifted it to place your hand atop of his on your belly. A gentle smile forming on your lips as you stared into his vermilion eyes.

When your breath became labored indicating you had fallen asleep again, Astarion’s attention was back at your torso where the bandage was slowly being stained by your blood. This moment of relief turned to anger again as he lashed out, slapping a metal canister of water out the tent with force. The absolute intrigued him at first, more power meant being stronger to protect you, but now… He was beyond ever considering it again. The cultist not only almost killed you, but the child growing from within you!

“How dare they…” He seethed, “How dare they harm her and my child!”

Astarion was pacing around angrily, how could he have allowed this to happen? He started to blame himself.

“Astarion-“ You spoke up, attempting to calm him down.

“I’ll show them, my love-“ he cut you off, “that nobody is allowed to touch what is mine.” He growled.

His eyes darkened again: “I’ll make them pay.”

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Hi hii, I've seen your requests are open and I was wondering if I could request somewhat one-sided Astarion x reader/Tav/he catches feelings first kinda situation??? Pretty please, love your writing 🙏

Too Generous Too Kind

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : astarion has travelled by your side for weeks and it makes his stomach churn when he grows to trust you, the trust turns into something more and he feels even worse.

warnings : astarion's scars, reader is injured.

For weeks Astarion had been travelling by your side. And for weeks he was under the impression he was only using you to get to Baldur's Gate safely. You were a powerful ally, an asset to his plan of revenge. 

He would stand by your side, of course, and watch your back as you had always watched his. But he couldn’t hold back how aggravating you were, you didn’t care whether he approved of your decisions or not. You made your own, walked your own street, and he was forced to follow it if he wanted to keep you around. 

And for weeks he had watched you talk your way out of situations, or convince a trader to give you free supplies. A master with your words. He watched as you lied and manipulated, and it made his faith in you soar. 

But then you would turn around and help a helpless child or a person that meant nothing to you, and his respect for you waivered. Why did they deserve any of your help? It’s not like they helped you in any way. And they definitely wouldn’t help you the same way you chose to help them if it were you stranded on the side of the road with no help. They would leave you, he was sure of it. He would, just like everyone had done to him, no one was deserving of your help if they had nothing to give you in return. 

So constantly you would find yourself in front of him, as he yelled at you and glared down at you with fire burning behind his eyes. He was tired of wasting time with people who didn’t matter. “Must you stop to help every worthless person we find on the side of the road?” His voice is venomous and unimpressed. It’s not the first time he has made a complaint, and him continuing to be unacknowledged was becoming more and more irritating each time he tried.

“You’d regret saying that if it was you on the side of the road, and we left you to grovel in your own misery.” Your arms are crossed, disciplinary stare on your face like he’s a child. He hates it. 

It’s not like anyone ever stopped to help him in the past.

Too generous. Too kind. 

Sure it gave you allies, and more often than not they would reward you for your good deed. But still, you could’ve killed them and taken it from their cold, dead body. Or he could’ve pickpocketed them for you, no time wasted. 

Astarion only feels his opinion change when your actions begin to affect him and not just the strangers you pass by through your travels. 

Suddenly he feels himself growing overwhelmingly close to you. Close enough that he feels he’s safe to tell you about Cazador and the threat he may play in your life in the future, and in a moment of privacy, just you and him, he offers to show you the scars on your back. You're not sure what to say at first, you just stare and it makes his skin crawl with insecurity. 

He shivers when your fingers meet his back to trace along the lines, “He did this?” He can only nod, embarrassed by this moment of transparency and weakness. God forbid he try to speak and all that comes out is a wobbly, pathetic cry where a snide comment laced with sarcasm should be.

You grab his shoulder to turn him around, holding both his hands in your own with a tightness that has his skin crawling in a different way. “I won’t let him hurt you again, we won’t, all of us, you'll never have to fight him alone. We’ll help you, no matter what,” Your thumbs swipe across the skin of his pale and shaky fingers and it sends heat up his cold arm,  “I’ll help you.” 

It’s so genuine and so sincere, it almost makes the air catch in his lungs. 

His eyes widen, and he has to force himself to hide how grateful he is to hear the words leave your mouth. He hadn’t realized that he’d forgotten what it was like to feel safe. To have someone who cares for him so much that they would put their life in danger to protect him. You were always kind to the helpless and needy, he just never thought he would allow himself to fit that description again, especially not in front of you.

You barely know him. You barely know his story, you’ve only seen his scars once and briefly heard of his former master's cruelty. But you’re ready to lay your life down for his cause. For him. To protect him. He feels lighter, holding the weight of Cazadors power on two pairs of shoulders instead of his alone..

Too generous. Too kind. 

For a while, he finds himself to be less annoyed by the way you stop to help. He doesn't mind as much when it inevitably slows the journey down. It still bothers him but finds it easier to manage when he sees the satisfactory smile you wear after. The sight almost makes a proud smile appear on his own face, smile lines subtly deepening before he wipes the evidence away.

You impress him, through it all. You hold your own while managing to deal with everyone else’s problems on your back, and while he hates the way you try to help everyone, he admires the way you handle it all.

Again his opinion changes when you reach Moonrise Towers. Whilst exploring, you meet a woman named  Araj, a drow, who offers a potion of immense power in exchange for Astarions teeth sinking into her skin. The mere idea has you scoffing, the potion would be nice but you would never jeopardize Astarions freedom in exchange for something that would only benefit yourself. 

But she pushes, even after Astarion declines. He is clearly uncomfortable and her continuous attempt to convince him has your blood boiling, face beginning to develop a red tinge from frustration.

“Excuse me if I’m mistaken but I’m sure I just heard him say no..”

“And I’m sure you can tell him to change his mind, he is yours, correct? I assume he follows your orders.” Your eyebrow raises at the suggestion that Astarion was anything but his own being. Your party is murmuring behind you, Karlach’s hand finding a place on your shoulder to tell you to calm down before things get out of hand. 

Even Astarion feels himself becoming concerned for how this would pan out. He’d never seen you so angry. A part of him was touched that you could be so angry on his behalf. But the majority of his mind is conflicted on if he should step in before you rip this woman's head clean off her shoulders. 

You feel your mouth open to shout at the drow in front of you but Astarions fingers slip within your own, squeezing in warning. Your mind clears a little, and you take a deep breath to calm your breathing. Karlach and Shadowheart stare at the scene in silence, but Karlach’s fingers give your shoulder another reassuring squeeze before slipping away. 

“I don’t own him, if that’s what you're trying to imply. He’s his own person. Who can make his own decisions, and he said no. That’s the last I’ll hear of the matter.”

A vampire spawn, a slave to Cazador for so many years, suddenly with the ability to act on his own and think for himself. His heart swells. He can’t think of any other word to describe how he feels but grateful. But maybe something else is lingering deeper underneath? Whatever the feeling is, it clouds his mind and puts a weight on his chest.

Later at camp he dwells on it, it’s hard not to see how your tired eyes consistently meet him. What could you be thinking? He can’t stop focusing on the way you speak to everyone but him, and jealousy is beginning to fester around his tent. What did he do to make you ignore him? When you finally reach him to say goodnight, his jealousy from earlier returns and he wants to send you away, but he can’t. 

“Thank you..” He’s cut you off before you can say goodnight and walk away from him, and you're stunned. His voice is soft, much softer then he wanted it to be, but he allows his tone to stay the same. Trust. Trusting you without realizing. 

“For what exactly?”

“For what you did at Moonrise. You could’ve forced me to go through with that..but you didn’t,” Astarion feels his eyes soften, stomach turning, “And I’m grateful.”

He gets anxious in front of your eyes when you don’t say anything. But his body becomes lighter when your arms wrap around him. He is certain it’s not a hug for your own comfort, but for his. And going against every instinct in his body that tells him to push you away, he hugs you back, wrapping his arms around you.. 

“I want you to know I will never put you in a position where you don’t have free will. You control yourself, Astarion, I will never jeopardize your freedom for my own benefit. You're a member of my party..you're my friend. I could never do that to you.” 

Friend? He couldn’t remember the last time he had someone to call a friend. If ever. But the words have him squeezing you closer to his body, face slipping into the crevice of your neck. 

“I was worried you might’ve been mad at me for refusing her, you were ignoring me. I wasn’t sure what I had done..” His words pull at your heart, you hadn’t meant to make him feel that way..

“Astarion..” 

“Hm?” He doesn’t move, he’s not sure if he wants to. Astarion is sure that he could hold you like this for as long as you would let him. 

“I didn’t mean to ignore you.. I was actually deciding how I should apologize..” 

“Apologize for what, dear?” He scoffs in your ear, he’s so close and the pet name flows with ease from his lips. If it were any other man you wouldn’t have noticed.

“For how I handled her today. I should’ve stayed calm. I just..I got so angry and she kept pushing and I was scared that she would do something to you..” 

The feeling is back in his chest, heavy and heating his face. His arms tighten and it silences your rambling, “Don’t apologize for being angry. You did nothing wrong… I actually quite appreciate your anger on my behalf. You didn’t have to but I appreciate that you denied her. I was certain you were going to kill her.” A chuckle stumbles from his lips, breath heavy on your ear. 

“I might’ve if you didn’t step in.” He pulls away from you, hands still resting on your arms, and disappointment fills your body. 

Astarion feels it again when your eyes look up into his with comfort painted across your face, a jab at his heart, and he is certain. He’s smitten and he can’t help the way his eyes fill with adoration. 

You wear a small smile on your face, filling him with comfort, but a sadness lingers in his mind. The fact is , you don’t feel the same and it causes his heart to become heavier. His hands fall from your arms, waving you off with a gentle goodnight before entering his tent. You stay standing in confusion, it sends your thoughts spiraling as you leave towards your own tent. 

Too generous. Too kind.

The next few days he is dazed, distracted and it shows. He misses his shots, when you speak to him his mind is elsewhere and the words you deliver slip through his ears. Everyone is clearly annoyed. 

But he cannot see it. He truly can’t see or hear anything, his thoughts are screaming at him about you. He cares for someone other than himself. He is depending on someone who is not himself.  He’s worried for your well-being, and he knows you’d be better without him by your side. He’s a burden with his mission to defeat Cazador, and he thinks about leaving.

And he thinks about you again. Every time he draws his bow, the thought of losing you fills his head and his fingers slip, arrow flying with unfocused aim. You trip and his previously unattentive eyes fly to your body, catching your arm in his tight grip to keep you from falling. The only words he speaks are soft, “I’ve got you.” He doesn't wait for your acknowledgement before he slips back into his clouded mind. 

He is unaware of his surroundings. He isn’t paying attention. Even when you’re fighting and he is tasked with shooting, he isn’t fully there. 

But when a cry leaves your mouth, hand clutching your side where you’ve been stabbed, he suddenly sees all. He’s breathing heavily as he rushes to your side to hold his hand on your wound, putting pressure on it. “I’ve got you..I've got you. please..you're gonna be okay..”

His eyes don’t leave yours as Karlach lifts you. He holds your fingers in his own as she carries you to camp for the night. He doesn't leave your side , even after everyone has gone to sleep, and your eyes have closed he remains. 

“Astarion?” 

Eyes wide, he looks up tiredly from where his eyes were staring at your wound. “Oh..gods. I’m so sorry..” His forehead falls onto your thigh in a huff.

“W..what?” You let your hand fall onto his head, concerned and not fully awake yet. 

“I’m so sorry..I..I let you get hurt. I was distracted and you got hurt because of me, my love.” 

“Astarion, what are you talking about? What..” You wince as you try to sit up, Astarion lifting his head from your lap instantly when he hears the hiss leave your mouth. 

He slips his fingers into your hand, squeezing tightly. “I..I couldn’t stop thinking..and I wasn’t paying attention. If I was..you never would’ve been hurt.” 

His words would almost make you laugh if they weren’t so somber, “Astarion please..this is not your fault.” 

“I knew this would happen..”

“What?” 

“I’m only putting you in danger, being in this group, I’ll only be a burden on you. This will keep happening..” 

Your heart sinks, “Astarion..”

“No..”, His eyes won't meet yours, “I can’t stay any longer. I need to find Cazador.” You open your mouth to speak but he already knows what you're about to say, “Without you.” 

“No..no way!”

“Please..just..” His fingers squeeze around yours again, “I can’t keep hurting the person I love. I can’t do it..not to the only person who's ever allowed me to feel safe.” 

“Astarion..” You place your other hand over his, sitting up straighter to put your face in his, “If you think for a minute that you can get away with telling me you love me, just to run away and leave me, you’re mistaken.” Your foreheads meet, head falling to touch his while lifting your head to cup his cheek in your palm, thumb rubbing over a dried patch of blood on his face. 

He stayed by your side when he could’ve gone to rest and clean himself off, and it makes your heart swell in your chest. You figured you would be alone when you woke up but here Astarion sits in front of you with dried blood covering his face and making his strands of his hair hard under your fingers, eyes tired but still open. 

“Besides I told you, you’d never have to fight him alone..ever again.” 

“I can’t do this to you.” His eyes close, lips pursing. 

“You're not doing anything to me, we're in this together. I promise. ”

“I..”

“Astarion. I said we're in this together. You can leave but you better believe I will follow you until the end to keep you safe. Just like you keep me safe..”

Too Generous. Too Kind.

He opens his eyes to look into yours. They’re so soft, searching your eyes for genuinity. He is unsure whether you mean everything you're saying. But Astarion is sure then as he searches, you’ve never been more truthful in your life. You mean everything. His barricade is broken and he slowly moves in to plant his lips softly to yours, hands shaking against your skin. 

It's soft and unsure. Just like he is. And he doesn’t stay there long in fear of making you uncomfortable, or god forbid he irritates your injury. You can’t help but smile at the genuine smile that peeks out at his lips. 

“So..the person you love?”

“Careful..I can still take it back.” 

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (2)

[Astarion x reader] Due to surprisingly overwhelming demand, the previous fic, along with this one and many more to follow, will now be part of a series!! It was honestly very difficult trying to come up with what happens next, but here we are. The idea came to me during a fever!! |Word count: 2.5k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 1 here!!

Next part here!!

The reader believes they are in a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time their fantasies conjured up such an obscure, yet somehow realistic scene. And so they’ve elected to treat the experience with as much realism as one would observe in a dream; little to none.

Alternatively;An ex-art-student-now-traveler accustoms themselves to the party.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

“Shadowheart. Shadow…heart. Hm.” His gaze bounced between you and her. 

“I’m sure her parents meant well, but the name is rather ominous, isn’t it?” He leaned over to your side, not bothering to hide his blatant distrust. Lowering his voice dramatically, if anything.

“Unless she chose it herself. Which is even more worrying, honestly.” He chuckled out.

It had been no more than two bells after mornbright when you met Astarion. Since then, you’ve come to realize how…different your presence has changed the course of the story. Though more subtle than you expected.

It would seem as if you had met the elven vampire before the party was formed, which was strange as your last save point was far later than that and the forest had been quite a long way from the beach.

When you finally stumbled upon Shadowheart, he was quick to share his inner thoughts that you haven’t heard from the game before. 

As they continued with their quest to find a cure for the Illithid problem, expanding their party as they did so, you had tried to make yourself useful by doing the dirty work for them. Looting and opening crates filled with camp supplies, armor, and potentially useful weapons and artifacts could always come in handy for trade or for “artifact consumption,” as per Gale’s need. Sorting them for your group’s convenience.

And while you did not have more direct and immediate practical use for your course of study in the modern world, the research you’ve created and reviewed for character creation and world building was doing wonders for your survival.

Or as much as it can for a magicless, not so athletic human. 

The “runes” of the medieval ages that have been carved into stone, along with the basic history and background of the common races and deities of the fantastical world that tabletop RPG has offered puts you at quite an advantage.

Not to mention your experience with the areas of the game giving you the same effect.

But this library of information had also aroused something akin to suspicion and concern. It would be understandable if you were a simple traveler just like them, or perhaps even an artisan from the guild, but you were not as astute as either background.

So how could you have access to this much knowledge yet be unaware of more practical matters? It’s as if you had simply read about it from somewhere. 

Astarion had been quick to give an explanation before you could form one of your own that could poorly convince your companions. Although, perhaps his suggestion was more outlandish than anything you could have come up with.

“They came with me. Property and all the formality that comes with it. A family pet, if you will.” A perfect excuse to justify your constant proximity to him, and a likely explanation to being well read, but not well experienced.

You thought nothing of the title, your apathy to the non-hazardous labels of this world apparent.

The same couldn’t have been said about your associates who had a few comments about this disclosure.

“I am unfamiliar with the–well, I shall not say ‘culture.’ ‘Customs’, perhaps. I did not think your kind to house such breed of cattle. Perhaps they could be useful.” Was Lae’zel’s. 

“I assure you, they typically don’t. Humans aren’t naturally subservient to Elves, at least in this manner. This setup sounds more akin to slavery. Blink twice if you need help.” Was Gale’s response. 

“It seems like Astarion's from the upper city, given the embroidery on his armor. I wouldn’t put it past them to have servants that follow them around.” Shadowheart’s nose crinkled at the thought. 

The party already had such an interesting rapport. Not entirely comfortable with one another to divulge everything, but loose enough to have semi-pleasant conversation with.

You thought this as you sorted out the fruits of your collective labor into neat pouches and bags, keeping items similar to one another factioned into their respective holding space. The chest being closer to Withers more than you’d like, but it was nice to hear the ramblings of an…undead person? Hearing someone continuously talking allows you to be more productive.

You’ll admit, handling enchanted armor and crystals does make you a tad nervous but you’re comforted by the thought that it will not be you who wields it in battle.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gale approaching your direction. Possibly to ask for his share of the camp supplies just a little earlier to sate himself as you had an abundance of it for now. You regard him with your back turned and he stops for a bit.

“I will say that I don’t have the lightest of feet, but I figured myself better at sneaking around.” It’s not his fault that he got caught, but the bright purple robe and the smell of the oils you’ve been crafting for them are particularly noticeable.

“You are, but I’ll assume you're not exactly in the best shape after dealing with a few goblins.” You hold up a bottle of a healing potion, swinging it a bit with your fingers to indicate that the smell had warned you of his arrival.

“You’ve got a keen nose on you. Must be from all of Astarion’s training but, speaking of which,” He nears himself to your crouched form, going in to lean against a very old and empty crate.

“Gale, wait–” Right as your warning leaves you, they seem to evade him as falls right through the wood. A comical layer of dust and lichen pluming out from the force. He tries to quickly recover from both the physical and emotional damage as he brushes himself off to make himself presentable once more. 

“Ahem, as I was saying,” He again makes his way over to you, settling for just standing close as his attempts to look unbothered temporarily cost him his ego.

“I was serious about what I said before. While I don’t know what to make of our pallid friend just yet, as enigmatic as he is, what he said before is quite confusing. Best make haste away from here if you want your freedom while we’re distracted with this worm problem.” His tone suggests a genuine concern which confuses you.

You’d be lying to yourself if the label of the set up didn’t sound odd, but you’ve never expressed discomfort as there was nothing all too worrying about it on your end. It was mostly for show, and you had as much independence as Tav would have in your game.

You endeavor to quickly dispel his worries.

“You don’t have to worry, I’m very satisfied with my servitude under Astarion. He’s very lenient and reliable, and I’m better off with him than on my own." You return to your task of sifting through your materials but pause and look back up at him to continue.

"I do thank you for turning my way though. Your concern is much appreciated but unnecessary.” You lowered your head a bit to show your thanks.

“Well if someone as generous as yourself says to trust you on this, then I have no choice but to concede! I’ll keep a watchful eye and offer guidance, should you need it. Also, do we happen to have something for—” As he asks you for some sort of salve, just a few ways off, your eccentric “handler,” of sorts, watches the two of you interact.

Don’t get him wrong, such matters don’t really catch his attention, but being an elf does curse him with the ability to have extensive hearing. Something that he thinks Gale knew, and something you forgot. That would explain the lack of distance between you two.

He thinks it’s amusing how the wizard is trying to make conversation with you as if you were some foreign creature. His usual eloquence nowhere to be seen, and you seemed as unbothered as ever. Like how he usually saw you when you conversed with someone through a crystal.

It was a phone, not that he knew that though.

“They’re a real nice one, aren’t they?” Karlach says from her side of the camp which was nearer towards his tent and yours.

“Hm, yes. While that may be an admirable trait, it’s hardly going to get them anywhere if they keep this up.” Astarion huffed out, not very keen on your altruistic playstyle so far.

He doesn’t know much about what you do and don’t know, all he knows is that you do know of the events to unfold and could be the key to defeating his master.

 All he needs is to keep you at his side. So he’ll allow you this much freedom.

“Oh come on, you. You can’t seriously think that after everything. Our camp’s pretty well maintained because of ‘em, not to mention the connections we’ve been able to get!” She fortifies her statement by knocking on her chest, the engine humming within feels lighter and newer since you’ve informed her of the tiefling blacksmith at the grove. 

He hums in response, returning to reading his book as he thinks about his growing hunger. He’ll have to hunt soon enough. While your positive reputation occasionally reflects on him by proxy, it can also reflect negatively due to the alleged nature of your relationship. If he wants the journey to a way of understanding the tadpoles to be a more comfortable one, he has to at least prevent their trust in him from diminishing.

~

Night falls later than he’d have liked, having waited for everyone to be asleep so that he may prowl the forest for sustenance.

The rest were sound asleep in their bedroll as the skirmish from earlier on in the day had proven to be sufficiently tiring. The crackling fire surely brings a lulling warmth that he supposes he’ll have to miss out on for a while.

As he begins to slink off into the darkness, he looks back to gauge his surroundings and catches your form from across the settlement. It seems you were tallying away the items in the shared chest and double-checking to see that everything is checked and balanced with your records. 

Your shoulders jump at his suddenly standing form, but try to understand his intentions. You mouth, “where?” with a very confused face, to which he responds with a simple shushing motion and waits for your acknowledgement.

You nod slowly, and he holds your gaze before sneaking off once again.

‘He’s coming back, right?’ You wondered. The progression of your experience now in comparison to the game was vastly different, and you didn’t know if all scenes, or only some, would present themselves in this world. You assume he planned to hunt, and while you trust his abilities, you want to make sure he’s attended to properly should he be harmed in any way.

So after retrieving a few potions, a journal, and a pencil, you stashed them in a satchel and positioned yourself at the base of the tree in the direction he left in. You weren’t particularly sleepy tonight, and planned to pass the time in wait of your companion. 

There wasn’t much to do in this century to keep yourself entertained. The only things you’ve found so far were a few instruments and all manners of journals and inks.

The inkpot that you picked up appeared to be red this time. The game of, “which ink dye will I get this time?” will have to be the most of your entertainment for now. Not all too different from home, you suppose. And while writing keeps your mind at bay, illustrating all manners of wildlife have proven to be quite the fun exercise. 

You’ve made a few notes on creatures that you and your company have encountered. The visual elements of a drawing allowed you and the others to keep track of materials that could be salvaged from them, and their resistances to certain attacks. 

Though as much as you liked depicting such lifeforms in paper, you’ve come to be very interested in portraying your vampire friend.

Evidence of your interest present in the pages filled with his likeness as you search for an unmarked page. You’ve made a few of the others, yes, but anyone who would gain access to your journal would surely see which member of the group you favor more.

You continued to draw, and occasionally write, on the parchment as you waited for Astarion to come back. All sense of time evading you as you focus on the task at hand.

A perfect opportunity for a tired rogue to surprise an unsuspecting human.

“And what are you still doing up, little one?” He appears from behind the very tree you rested against, causing you to spill a bit of ink on your thumb.

You clicked your tongue, not at all annoyed by the character but by your absentmindedness and now stained appendage.

“Sorry, I was just waiting for you.” You sealed the inkpot, and gathered your materials. Effectively, but unknowingly, hiding your work from peering eyes that were the same deep red as your finger.

“I’m very flattered, darling. But couldn’t you wait until morning? I'm sure this couldn’t have been all too important, yes?” He gestures to your satchel, referring to your journal, but you misinterpreted it as him asking for your medical supplies.

“Oh, that depends. Are you hurt, by any chance? I stayed awake in case you might've needed help tending to yourself.” You opened the pouch to reveal its contents to him, your stained thumb in full view.

The sight makes him sigh out, but is thankful for your offered service.

“I’m alright, nothing of interest happened while I was away.” He considers telling you about the nature of his little…'escapade.' He's unaware if you are of his condition, and he doesn’t wish to out himself if not necessary to avoid possible conflict. So he settles for advising you to rest.

“We need you well rested, my dear. You sleep. I’ll keep watch.” The dialogue is familiar, and you can’t stop yourself from letting a small laugh out as you responded with an equally familiar line

“Thank you. I’ll sleep better for that.” You lower your head as you usually do in gratitude.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He mirrors your gesture, albeit in a way that is most appropriate for someone of his character. “Sweet dreams.”

You walked back to the chest. Returning the potions and ink you’ve plucked from the supply, but keeping the rest of the pouch’s materials with you as you turn in for the night. Awaiting the promise of further study that a new day typically makes.

As Astarion is left with his own thoughts, a sour taste still in his mouth from his earlier meal, he thinks about the man in the journal you kept. He did not see much, only a vague outline of the figure. He thinks about who, or what, it could have been but dismisses the thought rather quickly.

He has no time for a mysterious person with hair less perfect than his own, touching his untainted locks as he does.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you everyone for your interest in the series!! As per the request of some, I'll now be adding a taglist!

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, and @tiannamortis for asking to be tagged!!

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Astarion and his s/o getting into a sass competition where Astarion ends up confessing to her by accident and now he's all flustered?

Astarion x Reader

“Can’t you go any faster?”

“I’m not exactly as well versed into taking these off as I am in putting them on, darling.” Astarion quipped at you as he fiddled with the lock on your cuffs.

Being somewhat of an anti-hero liaisons these days, the group had been pinched on some trumped up but completely true & legal charges of petty theft and larceny. Your options were fight, flight, or get arrested when confronted by the guards and charges. And since you couldn’t fight a whole city’s worth of Iron Fists, and running also seemed unplausible as you’d have to come back to the city sometime, you decided to take you lumps and went to jail. Luckily, where there’s a will there’s a way. Or in this case: a vampire with a lockpick up his sleeve.

“Why did you wait to do me last anyway? Just to see me suffer?”

“Well,” Astarion cooed, “it does have a certain visual appeal.”

You clicked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “Could you just hurry up? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my hands. All the blood is rushing out of them.”

“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, if you want my blood again, you should be more sympathetic to my pain.” You told him. Sighing heavily as one arm was free and Astarion moved on to the other one.

“Don’t you threaten me. Besides, if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll just move on to some other lucky companion in our camp.”

“Ha! Like anyone else would have you.”

Astarion frowned. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who would welcome my teeth at their necks. Hundreds. Thousands!”

“Yeah. One blood obsessed drow and…who was the other one you tricked again?” You pulled at the shackles, which jiggled the irons and knocked the lockpick free, but unbroken. The vampire growled at you.

“I tricked you easy enough, didn’t I?”

“Only because I took pity on you.”

“Pity?!”

“Yeah.” You told him. “That poor, sad, puppy dog ‘please feed me’ look was just something I couldn’t say no to.”

Astarion growled again. “That is not how it happened. Besides, if you didn’t like it you wouldn’t keep asking for more.”

“Oh sure. Blame the victim.”

“You are not a victim!” He snapped at you. He seemed a little wounded by that one. Maybe you went a little too far. “Gods.” He cursed under his breath with a frown. “You are lucky I love you so much, otherwise I would just leave you here, chained up, and never bite you again. No matter how much you begged me.”

The lock finally snapped open and your arm fell to the side. You lifted it to rub your wrist but were uncharacteristically silent.

“Would it have been too much to expect a thank you??”

“Did you just say you love me?”

Astarion froze for a moment. A little wide eyed at your question. He seemed to be racking his brain for a moment. Trying to remember the conversation before an ‘Oh. Shit.’ expression came over his face. “What? Oh, that. Figure of speech darling, of course.” He let out a single nervous cough after that and a rushed, “let’s go meet up with the other.” Before he turned on his heels and made a speedy exit.

You rub your wrist one more time as a soft, shy smile came to your lips behind his back. You follow after him and meet up with the others. Waiting just outside the prison for the two of you, as apparently just around the corner was enough of an escape from the mighty Iron Fist.

“Ah! I just love this fresh air.” You exclaim, followed by more comments on how dusty & dank your cell had been, but really just watching Astarion’s shoulders tense.

You spent the rest of the day subversively tormenting Astarion. Making comments on how much you loved the weather, or loved a dress in a window. How much you loved dinner that night. How much you loved getting a good night’s rest that night.

By the time everyone had gone off to their respective tents for the evening, Astarion had apparently had enough and slunk up to yours. “I know what you’re doing. Now stop it!” He hissed.

“But I thought you’d love it.”

“Stop it!” He hissed again. If he could right now, he would blush. You were tempted to let him feed on you for a moment to get the full effect. “I mean it! How would you like it if I threw every verbal misstep in your face? I don’t keep bringing up the time you said Ibis instead of Ignis, now do I??”

It was pretty funny when that bird showed up.

“So, are you upset that you said it and I’m teasing of you, or are you upset that you didn’t mean it and I keep bringing it up?” You honestly didn’t know which answer would be worse at this point. You felt bad you had wounded his pride to the point that he came to talk to you. But you also don’t think you could take it if he told you that he didn’t love you.

Astarion just stood there for a moment, thinking, before he sighed and waved you off. “Just…knock it off ok. I’ve had quite enough today. I’m going to get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turned to walk away and just before he fell out of ear shot you called to him. “Hey Astarion,” he looked back over his shoulder at you, “I love that you could come and talk to me about this.”

He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth struggling to keep down. “Oh shut up.”

[nrvcntr]

My Lover is Like

hey remember how i said i'd write that fic about tav coming from a noble background and having a riddle that someone has to answer to date her and no one ever gets it right and then years later she tells gale and he knows immediately? anyway here it is

There are certain scents that bring back memories - warm grass on a summer’s day, fresh linens placed on a bed, and of course, the sickly sticky burn of a bottle of plum fizz, shared among friends. Astarion recoiled after he sniffed the open bottle, his nose scrunched in horror.

“You can’t be serious,” He said.

“You’re being dramatic. It isn’t that bad,” You replied.

You had found a crate full of bottles on your last trek and dragged it back to the campsite, anticipating a heroic welcome at your generous haul. It was nearing sunset and it seemed as good of a time as any to see what the contents of the crate were. Upon cracking the crate open, your eyes lit up at the sight of bottles on bottles of plum fizz. This had been the drink that defined your adolescence as a noble in Baldur’s Gate. It immediately brought back memories of revelry, singing songs next to bonfires, and a young Wyll Ravengard throwing up in the street. You pulled out a bottle and handed it to Astarion, who had reacted like a man who never knew the joys of noble debauchery.

“It smells like it could raise something from the dead and then kill it again,” He said, handing the bottle back to you.

“Look, we used to drink this all the time when we were kids. It’s like a rite of passage among children of nobility in Baldur’s Gate.”

Wyll, overhearing the conversation, came over to see what you were so impassioned about. At the sight of the bottle in your hand, he recoiled like someone had just smacked him upside the head.

“No. Get that thing away!” He shouted, shaking his hands.

“Oh, stop it. I remember you used to beg to play fizzy hands when we were younger,” You said.

“Fizzy hands.” Astarion said flatly, “What sort of braindead activity is fizzy hands?”

You raised your brow to Wyll, who explained that “fizzy hands” was the beloved drinking game of your youth, where a small magical seal was applied to two bottles of plum fizz, which an individual would hold. The seal wouldn’t break until both bottles were consumed.

“Fizzy hands leads to fizzy guts, which leads to…a fizzy mess, in the street. You couldn’t pay me to take a sip of that now.” Wyll said.

You looked around the campsite and gestured to Gale, who had been beginning the preparations for dinner so intently that he hadn’t noticed the failing case you were trying to make in favor of plum fizz.

“It’s nice to know that your taste in wine is nearly as bad as your taste in men,” Astarion mused, causing you to shoot him a farcefully menacing look. Your affections for Gale were no secret, and the two of you had shared an intimate moment in the Weave, but you were unsure of your current status, or even whether he really returned your feelings. You had begun to write it off as a passing fancy, something to daydream about during long days of traveling. Though, there was no hiding how much you enjoyed being around the man, your conversations often dragging well into the night after everyone else had fallen asleep. You had never met anyone else who seemed to understand you the way that Gale did, or whose company you enjoyed nearly half as much.

“You’re a man of taste, and you’re knowledgeable about wine. Can you settle a debate for us?” You asked Gale when he walked over.

“A glass of wine sounds delightful this evening. What’s the topic of debate?” He asked.

“Astarion and Wyll may not be as cultured as you and I. Just tell them about the fine properties of this blend,” You said, trying to communicate ‘please, say this tastes good’ in your expression as you poured a glass and handed it over.

Gale swirled the glass and his eyes widened at the scent. To his credit, he took an honest sip and racked his brain for something kind to say about it. “It has notes of…berry. And cinnamon. And…” He couldn’t do it. “Acid. It tastes like it would eat a hole through a table if you spilled some on it. Do the youth of Baldur’s Gate really ingest this willingly?” He asked.

You threw your hands up.

“Poor taste, the lot of you. It cannot be helped.”

After dinner, Astarion sauntered over to you, two glasses of plum fizz in hand.

“A drink together. Sort of a truce,” He said.

You were suspicious, but took the glass in hand. The spicy, bitter, sweet, and confusing concoction ran down your throat and made your stomach feel hot. Astarion’s glass was already empty, and he poured you both another. By the time you realized that Astarion had been pouring his drinks out to get you to continue drinking, you were drunk enough to begin telling stories of your youth in Baldur’s Gate.

“So, after Wyll threw up in the street -”

“Can you please stop talking about that. I have plenty of embarrassing stories I could tell at your expense, you know. Lock.” Wyll said pointedly.

“Lock?” Shadowheart asked.

You covered your face, feeling a burning sensation creep up your cheeks.

“What none of you realize is that our beloved companion here was once the most eligible bachelorette in Baldur’s Gate nobility. Her family was wealthy and she was beautiful, intelligent, and charming…”

“Whatever happened?” You asked, making yourself laugh.

“However, she never took a partner. Singles of all creeds, genders, and races tried, but no one could get through to her. So, she began to be known as ‘the lock of Baldur’s Gate’. And, what opens a lock but a key? And the key to her heart was to answer a riddle,” Wyll explained with a dramatic flourish.

“A riddle? How droll. That’s a little…presumptuous, don’t you think?” Astarion asked. You shrugged.

“Why a riddle?” Karlach asked.

“I didn’t want to end up with someone who was a complete dunce,” You joked. It was a half-truth, since the whole truth would have disrupted the mood of revelry among your companions.

“Well, do we get to hear it?” Shadowheart asked.

You leaned back and looked at the faces of your companions. Wyll shook his head, having heard this question lamented among the singles of Baldur’s Gate throughout his youth.

“What is loving Taglath like?” You asked, the question rolling off of your tongue like a well-rehearsed line.

“What a stupid question!” Astarion huffed, rolling his eyes. He had no idea what the answer could be.

“Oh, do you know the answer, then? Since it’s so stupid,” You said, unable to wipe the smirk off of your face. It always delighted you to stump someone with the riddle, and it delighted you even more to watch them struggle with it.

“What is loving like?” You repeated, prodding Astarion for the answer.

“Darling, loving you is like poison seeping through my veins,” Astarion said, pretending to be a romantic poet, his hand gripping his chest, “- and it kills me to be parted from you,” He added, taking your hand in his icy cold grasp.

“Very sweet, but no,” You responded.

Everyone laughed, getting a little chuckle out of Astarion’s foolishness.

“Oh come on, it’s not like any of you geniuses know the answer,” Astarion said, raising a brow to the group. He looked around at their curious faces and wonders aloud, “Do you?”

“Uh, I don’t remember my childhood. Much less silly poems,” Shadowheart said, but thought about it for a moment. “Is it like a rose? Something beautiful out of the dirt?”

You shook your head.

“Chk. This is a waste of time,” Lae’zel said..

“C’mon, Lae’zel, what do you think loving is like?” Wyll probed, the githyanki rolling her eyes at him.

Lae’zel replied, “Like a well-won battle, your enemies dead at your feet.” There is a pause before she asked, “Did I answer correctly?”

“No,” You replied.

Karlach wiped her hands on her pants, not waiting to be asked. “You’re barking up the wrong tree if you ask me, solider,” She said, “But I’ll give it a try. Is it like a cool drink of water on a hot night?”

“That’s sweet, Karlach. It’s own little poem, even. But no,” You said.

“Well what’s the answer?” Astarion huffed, getting frustrated at this little display of ignorance.

“Salamander!” Wyll interjected, snapping his fingers like he cracked the code. This made everyone crack up, to his dismay. “No, because - I mean, uh - well, it’s better than corpses!” He insisted. This only made everyone laugh more.

In this revelry, no one even thought to glance at Gale, who had been watching the scene with a bemused little smile on his face.

There was a lull when the laughter died down, the silence of everyone taking a breath after a hearty laugh.

Through the silence, two words cut through the air like a knife directly to your heart.

“The Sun.”

You gasped (a reaction that, in retrospect, embarrassed you with how dramatic it was). You stared at the speaker, Gale’s dark eyes glinting in the firelight. You felt you must have looked ridiculous, your jaw agape.

In all of the years of telling the riddle, no one had ever known the answer. The key to your heart, you joked. But it had been more serious than you ever let on. As each suitor fumbled through wrong answers, it had only solidified your belief that true love would never be yours. That you would eventually have to settle for someone who couldn’t really understand you.

It was like time stopped, the visions of your companions becoming a blur as Gale came into focus.

Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be blissfully unaware that he had just broken your brain (what was left of it, at least).

“That’s…right. How did you know?” You choked out, hardly above a whisper.

“It’s a very clever riddle. See, most would probably assume that the riddle is about the works of Taglath, whom is renowned as an iconic romantic poet. His works adorn his lover with brilliant metaphors that have captured readers since their inception,” Gale explained to the group, lecturing his never-be students.

“That’s probably why Gef Deldus spent one summer immersed in Taglath’s works,” Wyll recalled, chuckling, “He told everyone that he had solved the riddle. He was convinced you would be his bride by the end of the season. What was his answer?” He asked.

“Love is like a poem,” You replied, still dumbfounded by Gale’s answer.

“The education in Baldur’s Gate leaves much to be desired,” Gale snarked, then continued, “What most people don’t know is that Taglath’s most prominent muse was another poet named Alanis. Unfortunately, most of her work has been lost to history. Almost no complete works remain, and only fragments have been collected for publication. But in her most complete work, she compares her lover to the Sun. It’s a gorgeous poem about loving someone who burns brightly and the fears associated with taking a lover of prominence. Loving despite fear,” He said.

You wondered how it was possible that your body felt like it was on fire but also like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on you. Did none of your companions notice that you were going insane? The realization rocked you like an earthquake.

Gale Dekarios was not a passing fancy, someone to think about kissing when the option presented itself. He was neither a daydream nor a wet dream to pass the time at different hours. He was not the greatest friend you had ever had, the person who you most looked forward to speaking to each morning after you woke and each night before you went to bed. The person who you spoke about nothing and everything with, played games with, or just enjoyed a comfortable silence with. He was not your traveling companion, nor even an ally who had risked his life for you as you had done for him. It was impossible for Gale to be any one of those things because he was all of them all at once and so much more.

Oh, fuck, you realized, your knees ready to give way.

You were in love with him.

The sound of your companions laughing and chattering together mixed together and sounded like ocean waves. If anyone turned to ask you anything you probably would have just stared at them blankly. You attempted to take a step toward Gale and the drinks you had earlier in the night went to your head, sending you tumbling forward and onto the ground.

“Looks like the plum fizz kicked in. ‘Key’, maybe you should take the ‘lock’ to bed,” Shadowheart said to Gale.

You thought that if you closed your eyes, maybe the ground would swallow you up and you would never have to look at Gale again. Instead, you felt him help you to your feet, allowing you to lean against him as he walked you to your tent. You were desperate to know what was going through his mind - did he realize the gravity that he answer had?

“Easy now,” Gale said, helping you down onto your bedroll. He treated you gently, helping you to unlace your boots and get settled in under the blanket. You were sick to your stomach at being doted on by him and kept quiet, trying to focus on anything but the way he looked at you. He left for a moment and came back to bring you some water.

“Is there anything you need?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment, then spoke.

“Gale?”

“Yes?”

“After we had that moment in the Weave…you mentioned that we shouldn’t talk about it then, with the orb being unstable and everything going on,” You said, then allowed yourself to lean into your own intoxication, asking what was truly on your mind. “Was that really the reason? Because if you don’t see me that way, you can tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings.” The words poured out of you too quickly for you to worry about sounding insecure. It was a lie, of course, that it wouldn’t hurt your feelings. Being rejected by Gale would be devastating.

Gale looked thoughtful, then recited the end of Alanis’s fragments of her poem about her lover.

“My lover is like the Sun, Brilliant and bright He eclipses me And yet I yearn

My lover is like the Sun Blinding and unyielding When he touches me I burn”

He placed his hand on your cheek, his gaze looking through you and into your soul. The two of you could say so much without a single word.

“Am I the Sun, or are you?” You asked.

Gale had loved the poem when he read it as a boy, and later thought of it often when he was with Mystra, trying to make sense of the reality of having a goddess for a lover. He had often wondered if he would ever have an identity outside of being Mystra’s chosen, or whether he would forever be tied to the Goddess. And if that was the case, why did the idea of it make him burn with jealousy?

However, the poem had taken on new meaning since he met you. He felt like the Sun, a ball of fire ready to explode in his chest at any moment. As badly as he wanted to hold you close, he knew that doing so would destroy you. Still, he wondered, might it be worth it to burn if he could have one moment of knowing what it was like to be yours entirely?

Or rather, were you the Sun? He was certainly transfixed by you, drawn to your brilliance. You, a mortal who dared to be more brilliant and enticing than his Goddess. Would following you lead him down the path to certain doom - or worse, would getting close to you lead you to your own demise? It was that thought that kept him up at night, wondering if he should escape in the night. To save you from himself, or at least get you as far away from the danger as possible.

Gale contemplated your question.

“I’m not sure,” He finally replied.

“I don’t know, either.”

You placed your hand on Gale’s, your gaze fixed on each other, searching for an answer in each other’s eyes. Neither of you could find it.

However, there was one thing that was clear to both of you: whether through flames of salvation or damnation, you would burn for each other.

[moonselune]

Could I please request headcanons or a Drabble for postgame Tailor!Astarion x reader? The worms are eating my brain I can’t stop thinking about him pinning dresses on his s/o with a measuring tape round his neck

The brain worms entered my head as well upon reading this

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tailor!Astarion xf!reader | The Most Beautiful Mannequin

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion worked with a meticulous grace, his hands sure and steady as they roamed over your body, pinning fabric here and there. It was strange, to see him in this domestic light. Gone was the battle-hardened vampire spawn with his daggers and shortswords in hand, now replaced by a man who had found peace in the art of tailoring, his fingers just as deft with needle and thread as they’d been with blades.

The light of the afternoon sun spilled through the window of your shared home, bathing the room in a warm glow. You stood in front of the mirror, dressed in little more than the fabric he’d carefully draped over you, while Astarion worked around you like an artist with his masterpiece.

He was muttering something to himself, eyes narrowed in concentration as he adjusted the hem of the dress. A length of measuring tape hung around his neck, and a handful of pins were tucked between his lips, their metallic gleam catching the light. Every now and then, he’d pluck one from his mouth and secure a fold of fabric, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a shiver up your spine.

“You know,” he said around the pins, his voice slightly muffled but still carrying that familiar, teasing lilt, “this would go much faster if you could stay still for even half a minute.”

“I’m trying,” you protested, though the soft laugh that followed betrayed your amusement. “It’s not easy when you keep poking me with pins.”

“Well, if you didn’t wriggle so much, my dear, I wouldn’t have to poke you,” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he removed the pins from his mouth and placed them on a nearby table. “Honestly, you’d think you’d never been fitted for a dress before.”

“Not by someone like you,” you murmured, letting your eyes linger on him for a moment. He wore a simple linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the pale, smooth skin of his forearms, and there was a casual elegance to him that made your heart skip a beat.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he replied with a smirk, though you could see the faint flush that crept up his neck. “Now, arms up. I need to see how this falls.”

You obliged, lifting your arms as he instructed, and he stepped closer, his body brushing against yours as he adjusted the fabric over your shoulders. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the gentle press of his fingers as they smoothed out a crease. His touch was so light, so careful, as if he was afraid that one wrong move might tear the delicate material—or perhaps tear you.

He took a step back, scrutinizing his work with a critical eye, before making another adjustment, his fingers brushing against your waist.

“Much better,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “You know, I must say, you do make for quite the lovely mannequin.”

“Mannequin?” you repeated, giving him a mock glare. “I didn’t realize I’d been reduced to nothing more than a glorified coat hanger.”

“Well, if you could refrain from moving every other second, perhaps I could start seeing you as something more,” he teased, his lips quirking into that familiar, devilish grin. “But alas, you’re not making it easy, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable,” he shot back without missing a beat, stepping closer once more.

This time, his hands rested on your hips, his touch lingering, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he leaned in, his breath ghosting against your ear.

“Besides,” he murmured, “it’s not every day I get to play dress-up with the most beautiful person in all the realms.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely.

“You’re incorrigible,” you muttered.

“And yet, you adore me,” he replied smugly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck before he pulled away to continue his work.

For a while, you stood there in comfortable silence, letting him work his magic. Every so often, you’d catch him stealing glances at you in the mirror, a soft, almost tender expression crossing his face before he quickly masked it with that practiced smirk. It was those moments that made your heart ache with affection, that reminded you just how much he’d changed, how far you’d both come since the days of endless battles and bloodshed.

“There,” he said finally, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “What do you think?”

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, your breath catching in your throat. The dress was exquisite, the fabric hugging your body in all the right places, the cut and stitching flawless. It was a work of art, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it suited you, as if it had been made for you—and in a way, it had.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, turning to face him, your eyes shining with gratitude. “You’re amazing, Astarion.”

He shrugged, though you could see the pride in his eyes, the way his chest puffed out just a little.

“Well, I do try,” he said, though his voice was softer now, more genuine. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” you corrected, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “And I love you.”

He blinked, his eyes widening slightly before he let out a soft laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Always so sentimental,” he teased, though there was no bite to his words, only warmth. “But for once, I suppose I’ll allow it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “For everything.”

He hummed, a pleased sound rumbling in his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Anything for you, darling,” he murmured against your lips, his eyes shining with a love that made your heart feel like it might burst. “Anything at all.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh I actually adore Tailor!Astarion so much, and I hope you guys adore him too! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[dragonsfictavern]

Brighter Than The Sun

Astarion x gn!Reader

a/n: I have no idea if this was a prompt I saw somewhere or if this was completely out of my brain, the idea was from months ago and I finally got around to writing it.

summary: With the parasite no longer in your brains, Astarion can no longer go into the sun. You try everything you can think of to help him experience the same heat but with no luck. Until you think to use yourself as a means for Astarion to feel the suns warmth once more.

word count: 1.7k

From the shadows he watches you, his red eyes almost gleaming and noticeable through the darkness. He stands behind the door, watching you, waiting for you… He needs you and yet he knows you need to stay away, if only for a little while longer. Long enough to get what he wants.

Astarion stands behind the door of the home you two share together in Baldur's Gate. With the parasite long gone and his ascension a trickle of a memory, Astarion has long since been unable to walk in the sun. It spurns him once more as if his mask had been unveiled and even the sun could see what he truly was. While on the other hand, darkness has greeted him back like an old friend and he remains cursing it.

More than anything he yearns to once more see the color in the world, to feel its warmth on his cold skin. But even after years of searching, he feels as though you two aren’t any closer to finding a cure, from ridding him of the curse forced upon him so long ago. Even so, his mind stays focused on the task and it touches him deeply that it remains in yours as well.

Which is what has brought along today’s events. When reality had first set in, Astarion couldn’t ever explain the despair he felt toward never being able to feel the sun’s warmth again. But he didn’t have to explain. He knew you understood, he knew you saw him for all he was. You have for probably much longer than he gave you credit for. Always the one to try and fix things, Astarion wasn’t surprised when you tried thinking of clever ways he’d be able to feel the sunlight again. You had tried creating the hottest of fires and yet it didn’t feel the same. Nothing ever felt the same. Astarion had given up and urged you to do the same. He should’ve known you well enough by now to know that wasn’t something you were capable of.

So this morning when you began guiding him toward the door, Astarion briefly questioned if he was being led to his demise. If you had finally gotten tired of him and decided to end it all. Of course you hadn’t. Wouldn’t. Who’d ever get tired of him, after all… He only resisted briefly until you ended up explaining your entire plan to him. To have you stand in the sun and then shut the door and hug him. So that way, he may once again feel the heat of the sun against warm flesh.

Astarion’s heart swelled, lips parted as he struggled to react and while he still couldn’t quite express his gratitude and affections out loud, he knew he could show you them through his actions and it would always mean just as much. He may have thought the plan ridiculous, silly even, but it was your attempt that moved him. The way you never gave up on him. Now here you two are, you out in the sun as he lurks in the depths of the shadows. Astarion’s lips part as he watches you bask in the sunlight's rays, your eyes closed and a soft smile on your face.

Whilst always beautiful, Astarion remains even more assured that you are most beautiful in the sun. His feelings toward you both similar in the weight you hold in his heart. His eyes trial over your form, looking on as the sunlight highlights your complexion, the sun shimmering across your skin. The way it flickers off of you, making you appear even more brighter and full of life. Astarion watches it all, his attentions never having been more focused. He couldn’t dare look away from you and miss a moment of this.

You were so close and yet so far and as Astarion looked upon your beauty, memories from before starts flooding through his mind of him out there with you. Astarion couldn’t help but step forward, reaching out to you. He didn’t think, too caught up in how much he wanted you near. Not because of the sun but simply because you were you.

As his hand falls into a faint sliver of sun, instead of the comforting warmth he has shamefully become accustomed to, the familiar burning radiates across his skin. The sound of his skin sizzling rang in the quiet air and instead of peace the sun now brings panic, causing Astarion to release a high-pitched hiss. You jump, opening your eyes and looking over at him as Astarion quickly draws his hand back. You take a step to him but he uses that same hand to motion for you to stop.

“No! Don’t come closer. Just stay out there… for a little while longer,” Astarion pleads, brows furrowing deeply. It wasn’t until this moment, this instant where he’s reminded of the pain the sun has the power to inflict upon him, that he thinks your once silly idea may actually be important.

“Astarion-“ You try, tilting your head, eyes on his crackling hand that already starts to heal itself. But it’s one shake from his head that has you quieting. The softness in his gaze that has you stopping from stepping into his darkness. You look over him before giving a tentative nod. Your body turns back toward the sun within the space of the open door, but your eyes occasionally flicker over to him.

His fingers press into the flesh as it returns to its original smooth texture, the only trace of it being the faint throbbing that was already starting to fade too. As Astarion stares at you as you stand in the one place he could not reach you, despair flowers in his chest like a plague. You two are so different. While dealing with the parasite, while able to walk into the sun, Astarion could simply ignore it, not think about it because there were so many other important things to think about. Could push their differences aside in order to use you, then eventually love you.

But all that was gone now. You could walk in the day while he was stuck in the shadows. Even while only inches away, to Asatrion, it was like he could see an invisible barrier set between you both. A force that stops him from being with you, touching you. Something he could never cross so long as he was like this— a vampire spawn.

He was not good for you, he knew. All this time, Astarion allowed himself to be greedy, convinced himself that you need him as much as he needs you. But his love was doing exactly what the dark was doing to him. Trapping you. He was sure that if your heart wasn’t so big, you’d be out in the sun more often. Like you deserved.

Then you did the most peculiar thing. In a flash, you were closing the door, objecting yourself to the dark, and you reach for him. One hand wrapping around his waist as the other grips the nape of his neck. Both use their strength to pull him into you. Before Astarion can process what’s happening, you’re hugging him.

Warmth radiates off your skin and spreads over his. You guide Astarion’s head into your neck, letting him feel all the heat the sun left on you. Now, after this time being with him, Astarion doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. His arms wrap around you firmly as he exhales a shaky breath.

“I could feel you thinking from all the way over there,” your smooth voice washes over him, making warmth spread within him as well as across his body. He burrows closer to you, soaking up everything your skin was offering. He could imagine the fierce sun and how it must have felt upon first contact. But somehow, when it was you providing it instead of the sun, it was better. So much better.

He finally had you in his arms and the fog that moments prior were tormenting him now clear away. As you imply, he was thinking too much. He was spiraling and second guessing himself and even worse, you. He knows that you would never truly do something you didn’t want. You wouldn’t be with him unless it’s what you wanted. He didn’t have the power to trap you and he would never want it. While he can’t deny your differences, he also can’t say they’re a bad thing. He likes that you’re not the same person. Although, Astarion would dare say he’d make a lovely suitor for himself if the chance arose.

“What ever are you talking about, darling?” Releasing a light-hearted chuckle along with the question. Astarion’s hand brushes along your neck as well, the skin feeling even warmer here. Everything in him tells him to hide his feelings, to brush them aside and offer a short quip. While he knows he’ll end up telling you everything later, right now he can’t help but evade the vulnerability that was controlling him.

“Oh, I must be seeing things, then,” you tease right back, understanding Astarion and playing along with it. Astarion closes his eyes, gratefulness filling his body and pouring out in his physical contact with you.

“Hmm, must get that checked out,” he shoots back, not able to stop the words from slipping out of his mouth. You both end up laughing together and the peace that spreads through the atmosphere around you two reminds him why he never ends up keeping anything from you anymore. He learned his lesson once before.

The two of you fall into a peaceful silence as you remain hugging in the darkness. Your skin quickly grows colder again, losing what your time in the sun left you with. Even so, neither of you step away from the hug.

“You know, out of all the ways you’ve attempted to give me back sunlight, I have to say, this is by far my favorite,” Astarion admits, moving to rest his forehead against yours. The warmth he feels with you blazes hotter than any sun could ever supply him. He hears as your heart picks up and your neck once again becomes warmer than the rest of your body. Astarion does not hold back his grin, informing you of his awareness, yet remains still as he enjoys what he can get.

Astarion keeps you close as he realizes that any lack of sun is worth it when he gets moments like this in return.

[a-case-of-attachment]

A continuation of this.

Astarion was relentless in his need to get you away from Gale’s wandering lips and pathetically sad and hopeful kicked puppy attitude, silently seething as he dragged you along behind him. His grip was tight on your arm, probably too tight if he was being honest but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of you. He knew he was being foolish, but Astarion couldn’t help but feel that if he let you go you would be gone, running back to Gale like a moth to a flame.

You had looked so happy sat there with Gale, all bright smiles and casual affection like it was nothing to open yourself up to another. Had it been that easy for you to be like that with Astarion? He could recall your smiles, your gentle laughter along with the teasing and somewhat sarcastic back and forth you two had going. It had felt easy at the time, but had it actually been so or were his memories tainted by his own need for you to want something from him?

Astarion knew he could be charming and sweet. After all, those were the traits that had made him such an effective seducer, but he also knew that he could be difficult sometimes, rude and a little shut off from others even when honesty would serve him better. He was selfish, there was no denying that, but he was also cold and calculating, often working out how best to use someone to his advantage before using his charm and tempting smiles to get what he wanted. Astarion was trying with you though. Trying to be a better person and letting you in closer than he had anyone else in the better part of two centuries. But was it enough?

He hated the fact that blasted wizard was getting to him, but Astarion couldn’t stop himself from beginning to question why you had stayed by his side for so long. Gale wouldn’t hide himself from you like Astarion had. He wouldn’t deny you any part of himself whilst trying to cover it up with pretty lies and sugar-coated words. Everything about Astarion was a performance, designed to misdirect and mislead the audience. He didn’t want people looking to closely, didn’t want the attention the truth got him. The sad reality was he simply didn’t trust people, couldn’t trust people, not after everything he had been through and he wasn’t about to show weakness to just anyone when he needed to be strong and untouchable to survive. You were infuriatingly different though. You did care, Astarion was sure of it and if there was anyone, he was going to let see him at his most vulnerable then, well, it could only ever be you. So why did he feel so hollow all of a sudden? Like he had already lost you before he had the chance to really have you in the first place.

The trees and undergrowth suddenly gave way and Astarion stumbled slightly as he stepped out unexpectedly into a clearing. It’s not that big, probably smaller than the average tavern and if he was so inclined Astarion could probably make it to the other side with a few long strides. It is unassumingly quaint though, the gaps in the otherwise thick canopy allowing the silvery moonlight to give the small space an almost otherworldly glow. In any other circumstance it would be disgustingly romantic, somewhere Astarion would have whisked you off to to whisper sweet nothings in your ear whilst making your body singing under his skilled touch. Not tonight though. Tonight he couldn’t care less, taking a few seconds to gain his bearings before he took a sure step forward, intent on getting you across to the other side and as far away from Gale as he could. You apparently, had other ideas though.

“Enough!” you shouted suddenly, digging in your heels and yanking your arm from his grip. Astarion let you go, coming to a standstill at the edge of the clearing and looking back at you with thinly veiled impatience. You glared back, fists clenched at your sides and shoulders noticeably tensed. “What in the hells was that Astarion!” In a nearby tree birds took flight, frightened away from their nests by your angry yell. Astarion flinched slightly, shame settling uncomfortably in his chest. There was a possibility, and a small one at that, that he might have overreacted, but could you really blame him? Gale had overstepped yet again, and you had just looked at the walking bomb like the idiot you were, all lost and confused like you couldn’t possibly fathom someone was actually interested in you in such a way.

Astarion had every right to whisk you off. Had every right to be angry and jealous too, but that didn’t mean he liked it. He hated being forced to feel all these emotions that he had stamped down for so long, unaccustomed to anything but pain and desperation. It left him feeling exposed and raw in a way he wasn’t used to. Unfortunately, when he was feeling cornered and out of his depth Astarion had a bad habit of lashing out at people, uncaring as he spat honey covered poison in an attempt to regain control of something he probably never would.

He hated himself for it, even as he practically leered at you, his lips curling up into a smirk. “Come now darling, I was doing us all a favour,” Astarion laughed, waving his hand dismissively in the air. “It was starting to get a little sad.” Your breath caught, Astarion able to hear your heartbeat pick up ever so slightly. It had been the wrong thing to say but it had come so naturally, to be dismissive and cruel when it came to the feelings of others. Especially now when his own emotions were getting the better of him, uncertainty and doubt mixing with anger and jealousy. “Honestly, for a man who claims to be so smart he can be rather dense.”

Your eyes narrowed; arms now crossed over your chest and very clearly unimpressed with his cruel words towards the wizard. “You done?” Astarion’s smirk fell slightly at your sharp tone, his centuries worth of skill faltering when faced with the rather real possibility that he was ruining the only good relationship he had ever had. Fear crept in, Astarion unable to stop his intrusive thoughts from taking over his already compromised mind. He had been afraid of losing things before, things like his freedom, his food, his life. Never before though had he been so scared of losing another person before. He didn’t like it, the panic making his throat feel tight and his hands twitch in some sort of aborted need to touch you. To wrap his arms around you and pull you tight against him, refusing to let you go ever again.

Astarion swallowed noticeably, trying to force the lump that was forming in his throat down. Scoffing, he adjusted his stance, making sure he looked as casual and unbothered by all this as he could. “I don’t know what you are talking about darling. All I did was save you from having to suffer through Gale’s rather pitiful attempts of seduction.” They really had been atrocious, awkward to, like the man didn’t have a suave bone in his body. You hadn’t needed to be subjected to that and lucky enough for you Astarion had been there to chase the cretin off. Unless, of course, you hadn’t wanted the wizard gone.

“Astarion,” your voice was thick with warning, the muscles in your jaw visible twitching as you clenched your teeth. Foolishly though, Astarion didn’t listen. He was on a roll, his anger and jealousy in full force as he let his emotions taint his words. “But if you’re into tragic little magicians who are already hopelessly in love with a goddess then please, accept my sincerest apology for disturbing you.”

“Astarion.”

“Though if you are planning on slipping into his bedroll tonight might I suggest you get him to cast a silencing spell beforehand. I doubt any of us want to hear him grunting like a stuck pig. Oh, and maybe get yourself a healing balm. I would imagine that beard of his would leave an awful rash between your le…”

“That’s enough!”

Astarion’s mouth snapped shut at your angry outburst. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had heard you back at camp, having shouted loud enough to cut through his rude and somewhat crude words. You looked so angry, shoulders tenses and hands curled into fists at your sides. He had seen you angry before, all righteous fury on the battlefield and smouldering hatred when pretending amongst the absolute. You had never been angry at him before though. Annoyed and suspicious yes but never angry, not even when you had awoken to him hovering over you, mouth open wide and fangs glistening as he practically salivated over how perfect you would taste on his tongue. He hadn’t thought it possible for you to look at him in such a way, but it seemed he had been mistaken because there you were, eyes dark and dangerous as you watched him intently, waiting for him to do or say something but for once Astarion found himself at a loss, his quick wit and sharp tongue failing him spectacularly.

You sighed loudly when it became clear that he wouldn’t be the first to break the tense silence, your shoulders slumping and the stench of pain and disappointment thickening in the air. “Look, I don’t know why you’re being like this or what you think you're going to accomplish here but I can’t do this with you anymore.” You sounded tired, heartbroken even and Astarion felt his own chest tighten in response. Some part of him had known it was coming, that things had been too good to be true, but it still hurt none the less. Even more so knowing that he only had himself to blame, but who had he been trying to fool? Someone like you was never going to find their happy ever after with the likes of him. After all he was just a broken and twisted monster with nothing to his name apart from the trail of pain and suffering he had left behind him. He had been delusional to think this thing between you could be anything more than the tentative and somewhat convenient friendship you had allowed it to be.

“Well,” he said stupidly, not really knowing what to say, “best I not keep you then.” Astarion stepped back slightly, angling his body to create a space for you to slip through and make your way back to camp and most likely right back into Gale’s open arms. Shame and rejection burned heavy in his heart, so much so that Astarion couldn’t bear to even look at you. He turned his head to the side, his eyes slipping closed as he waited for you to move past him. He heard you sigh, the rustle of fabric as you moved and the slight crunch of grass under your booted feet as you slowly made your way towards him.

He felt so alone, a pathetic and useless mess of a man as he let you slip through his fingers like grains of sand. It had been so easy to begin with, all charming smiles and flowery compliments that had you practically glowing under his attention. It had all been an act then, a means to an end that was supposed to keep him safe and protected within your close circle of confidants and friends. He had planned it all out but the one thing he hadn’t taken into consideration was, well, you and now he was left with nothing to show for his efforts other than a few tainted memories and the knowledge that he had been the one to drive you away into the arms of another man. He truly was incapable of doing anything right, just like Cazador had always said he was. A beautiful idiot.

A gentle hand cupped his cheek and Astarion startled, his head whipping round as his hand shot out to curl around your wrist, preventing you from moving it away or any closer. You were smiling softly at him but there was nothing happy about it, the sadness crystal clear in your eyes. Astarion could taste your unshed tears, see them clinging to your eyelashes. He wanted to reach out, to gently run his thumbs under your eyes and wipe away the tears as he whispered his apology, but he had never been good at admitting he had been wrong or even saying he was sorry. He hated that you were looking at him like he had broken you but despite how badly he wanted to take it all back the words wouldn’t come. So instead, the two of you just stood there, staring at one another and waiting for someone to do or say something to break the silence that felt like it was going to suffocate him.

Your shoulders slump, the sad little smile you had been supporting slipping into a frown. He can see it in your eyes, see you searching for the right thing to say and Astarion wants nothing more than to run before you get the chance to break his heart before you had even known it was yours to shatter. He’s moving your hand back towards you and already stepping away when he stills, your words nothing but a whisper but they seemed like a shout to him. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t think he would be able to keep the confusion off his face even if he had tried.

He doesn’t understand. Are you apologising for ending things between the two of you? Not that either of you had actually put a name to what the two of you were doing. Maybe you were apologising for turning your fondness towards Gale? It hurt, more than Astarion would ever admit to, but he had expected something like this to happen, waiting for the moment you got bored of the pretty little elf and moved on. That’s all he was. Something to pass the time with that looked good both in and out of his clothes and knew how to leave their partner satisfied. No one has ever given him an apology before, not that he can remember anyway, and he doesn’t know what to do with one now that you had whispered it so sweetly to him. Astarion doesn’t understand you or this entire situation and it frustrates him to no end because how is he supposed to react in a way that will please you if he has no clue what you are even trying to do here?

His grip on your wrist had gone lose whilst he panicked externally and without him keeping you at bay you easily put your hand back on his cheek. Your warm, so much warmer than him and it feels so much like being bathed in sunlight to feel you against him. Despite knowing better Astarion can’t help but turn into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he basked in your sunlight. What was the harm in enjoying this for just a second longer? Astarion was a selfish creature at heart, and you would be gone soon enough, so why not? Why not take this one thing for himself. Just this once. Just this.

“Astarion.” He doesn’t want to look at you. To look at you would be to acknowledge that this confusing and all consuming thing between the two of you was over. He doesn’t want that. Wants to hold onto you for just that little bit longer. You are insistent though, using your hand on his cheek to turn his head towards you and no matter how much he wishes to prolong this moment Astarion knows that isn’t his choice to make. So he looks, opening his eyes and meeting yours, waiting for you to throw him away just like everyone else had.

@mangomonk @skittleabyss @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @atsv-obsession @duckyhowls @tamwritesstuff @unrestrictedbyreality @dinstailor @vhaldren @ammistorm @aoirohi

I think that’s everyone! Please do let me know if I have missed anyone though and if you want to be tagged in the third and final part!

[lefayee]

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮..

𝘈𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

“𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦.. 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

If lips could melt and start a blaze of flames amongst your own lips they could here and now with the way Astarion kissed your plumped bruised ones. He wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t. He wasn’t being out of the ordinary but he seemed almost eager so desperate for something. Your hands were quick to come to his partially bare chest, his white shirt half untied. “Astarion. You don’t need to do this, honestly…” but no words came from him only his eyes flashing with a glint of a smile before leaning back down to try and reach your lips once more in hopes to taste that savoury sweet taste of yours. “Astarion..” with a heavy sigh the white haired elf pulled away, his hands desperately running through his curls and practically growling at the loss of your lips “why won’t you let me just do this!” He spoke with a tinge of venom, how he could go from being calm and happy to annoyed in merely seconds was a thought you couldn’t understand but you stayed calm. “Astarion-“ another sigh. “No.. stop. Why can’t I just kiss you?” Silence ate the void entirely making your swallow much more thicker then you anticipated it to be. Your fingers softly interlocked with his as you let your forehead come to rest on his chest. “I don’t want you to do things you are.. not comfortable with. That’s all.. and you know that.. I’m more then happy to do this with you I j-“ Astarion placed his cold hand against your thigh, the very thigh that caressed against him to get closer to his body. He knew the fear that bubbled within he knew it all too well. The fear that he would be disgusted.. so far from the moment that old habits would kick in, and sure maybe at times it did but he was still learning.. still learning how to love. How to feel what lovers feel. How to let his body naturally do what it wanted to do without a forceful thought. Before it was nothing, this was nothing to him he didn’t have to think about it not a single emotion came to him when he thought of you.. but now when he kissed you even in this very moment it’s like the sun became the soft glow of the moon, and the stars dance ever so perfectly above; everything felt.. right. “I want this darling. I want you. I want us..” Soft fingertips danced across the fabric of your shirt and lingered at the nape of your neck. “I kiss you.. because I want to. I touch you because your skin.. god my love your skin makes me melt.. you are my world and more and everyday you help me to realize there is so much more to love.. my love for you.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and softly leaned in, placing a sweet warm kiss to your lips. And when he parted he smiled sweetly, happily. Finally. He was happy after his two hundred years of torment he found home.

In your love.

“Now give me those sweet lips”