#Astarion x Female Durge

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

Not one to beg.

Soft, sweet and fluffy mostly plotless smut brainrot because these two have made a small hole in my brain and they won't stop kissing ;w;

(this is the first time i've ever legit written any kind of smut so be gentle, if you can)

Ft: Astarion x my durge Tomie

It had been a few weeks since the party. Since the night Astarion and Tomie spent together. Astarion thought it would be just the same as any other seduction. But it wasn't.

Her touch, her skin, her voice, her blood. He craved it like a drug. Not only that, but she made him feel truly wanted. Not just his body, but his company. His time. Every time he insisted they give her neck a break and go hunting, she was right there with him. Tail swishing back and forth excitedly. She could never hide how much she enjoys being around him. He hated it, but he knows he shares the same feelings. She feels like home in a way he hasn't felt in centuries.

When she did let him feed, the rush of desire that floods into him is nearly impossible to bear. He has to stifle moans and keep his body from needily pressing against hers. She must have felt it. There's no way she couldn't. But she never said anything. She hasn't tried to instigate intimacy once since that night. Despite the near constant flirting, small cheek kisses and innuendo exchanged between them. Astarion is shocked. Some nights he had to settle for his own hand just to alleviate the yearning. She was driving him insane and she had no idea. Or maybe she did, and this was all on purpose.

That sly little minx.

One night, Tomie delcared she will be going off to bathe in the nearby lake.

"Alright! Don't take too long, dinner is almost ready" Gale says.

Tomie nods and begins to walk towards the lakes direction with a small towel and some soap. Her tail swishes and she casts the quickest sly glance at Astarion. A hint of a smile on her pretty lips. He watches as she disappears into the treeline. That was the final straw.

"I'm going for a walk" Astarion says. Not waiting for a response from the others. Walking in the opposite direction of Tomie to not rise suspicion. He will double back once he's far enough away from the camp. A few moments of aimless wandering and racing thoughts. Should he do this? Was she avoiding it for a reason? But if that's the case, why would she be teasing him so much? Gods, it's like he can smell her from here. Warm, spicy, indulgent. But wait, how? Did she get hurt?His pace quickened from a casual stroll to a sprint. Now rushing towards the direction of the water he hears small curses and gasps of breath. Not wanting to scare her, he hides behind a tree and peeks at the scene ahead.

She was in her undergarments, washing her day clothes in the lake. She had accidentally sliced her hand a little with a rock. Nothing too serious. She cast heal wounds on it within moments and looked around, making sure the blood didn't draw any predators. Once content, she went back to washing her clothes in the water then wading in herself. Still in her underclothes. She closed her eyes and floated there for a while. Looking truly at peace.

It's now or never. Astarion emerges from a tree, just the same as he did the first time.

"There you are" He says.

"Oh! Hi Astarion! Come to do some washing?" Tomie asks. A sweet seemingly innocent smile on her face. But a small glint in her eye indicated to him that she knew EXACTLY what she was doing.

"Something like that. I was drawn to the scent of your blood, I wanted to make sure you were alright" He tries to add as much velvet to his voice as possible. He's done this thousands of times before. Why would this be any different?

"Such a worrywart, don't tell me you've started to care have you?" Tomie says. Her voice soft as silk, putting his seduction attempt almost to shame. Tomie effortlessly swims to the lakeshore and emerges from the water, dripping, her undergarments clinging to every curve. Her ivory hair wet and slicked back, effortlessly cascading down her shoulders. She was a vision. She gently shakes herself off a little then meets her eyes with his. Her bright red eyes and cat-like pupils shine in the moonlight. He had never noticed that her eyes glow like that before. She approaches him and he finds himself leaning his back against the very tree he was hiding behind. He felt almost dizzy.

"Now, why don't you tell me why you're really here?" Tomie purrs. Her hands behind her back, leaning forward slightly. Her tail slowly waving side to side.

"Well" Astarion scoffs. "Isn't it obvious??" He's supposed to be the seductive one. Making people swoon with just a few words. How is it that this woman flusters him so?

"Not to me. See, I prefer when someone is direct. I want to know exactly what you need from me" Tomie brushes her fingertips against his arm, sending tingles all the way through his body.

"Darling, I'm not one to beg but-"

"No no, I don't want you to beg. I just want you to tell me".

Tomie's torso is flush with his now. Her tail twitches with anticipation as she continues tracing her fingertips against his arm. Looking up at him sweetly. He takes a deep breath and sighs once he realises he hasn't been breathing since she came out of the lake.

He takes her hand and starts kissing each fingertip, Slightly cold from the water. He drops the sensual facade. Neither of them want this to be a performance. In between kisses he admits to himself and to her:

"I need to taste you again, to feel you, to indulge myself in you". He says. His voice earnest and wanting.

"I want the same" she says. There's a hint of relief in her tone as she wraps her arms around his neck. They both rest their foreheads against each other. With a deep sigh he places both his hands around her waist, running them up and down her curves.

"Then why didn't you say anything? I've been losing my mind these past weeks" Astarion says, his voice gentle and low, barely above a whisper.

"I...I never want you to do anything you don't want to do" She cups his face in her hands and rubs her thumbs along his cheekbones. He melts into the sensation. She moves her head back to look directly into his eyes. Her expression so sincere, so gentle.

"I noticed how distant your eyes looked last time, and I know your experiences with sex haven't been exactly...Pleasant. I wanted to wait until you were ready."

"You sweet, generous thing" He places a small pecks on her cheek and forehead while she giggles. In one swift motion, he ducks to the side and spins her around so now she's the one against the tree.

"Ha,déjà vu" Tomie giggles.

He's tired of waiting. He grabs the back of her head and presses his lips against hers. She wraps her arms back around his neck and gently runs her fingers through his hair. He presses his thigh between her legs, causing a soft, sweet moan to come out of her. He slowly removes his shirt in between deep kisses, and unbuttons her damp undershirt with swiftness and skill. He will never get used to that feeling of skin to skin. She is so warm, so soft. Several weeks of pent up desire flood through him as he explores every inch and curve of her body with his fingers. Low moans and growls come from deep within his chest. Finally, he releases her so she can catch her breath. Her lips are pink and puffy from the kisses, her cheeks and ears flush with blood and desire. She moves her hand from behind his neck to his face as he play bites at her fingers. Giving her one last deep kiss then trailing smaller kisses down to her neck, brushing some of her hair out of the way.

"May I, darling?" Astarion purrs.

"Of course, Astarion. Always."

"Gods, my name sounds so sweet coming from you".

Holding the back of her head steady, he licks and kisses the small puncture scars on her neck made from previous encounters. He gently bites down and starts drinking her life essence.

"Hmmph" He groans in pleasure with every swallow. He holds her closely against himself. Craving to touch as much of his skin to hers as he can. He feels the warmth of her blood spreading between both of their bodies. Her blood alone is enough to drive him to madness. He starts to feel the slight buzz he gets when full. He unlatches himself from her neck before he drinks too much, gently licking the beading blood from the wound and his lips.

*sigh* "You are delectable, you know that?"

"You've mentioned it once or twice" Tomie coos.

"You're alright?" Astarion says. "Not lightheaded or faint?" He holds her face in his hands and kisses her nose.

"I'm perfectly fine" Tomie smiles.

"Good. Now where were we?"

He resumes kissing her. The sweet copper taste from her blood still on his lips. They clumsily find a soft patch of grass and lie down, Astarion on top. He presses himself against her skin as if he can't get close enough. They start rolling against each other in a slow, melodic tempo. He doesn't want to rush. He stops kissing her and sits up for a moment. Taking her in. Her chest rising and falling with every breath. Lidded eyes full of love and desire. Her mouth slightly open and lips parted.

"I think I need to taste you again, my dear"

"Oh? I'm not sure I have enough blood for tha- ah!"

He kisses his way down to between her legs. Gently massaging her flesh, and kissing and biting her inner thighs. He slowly removes her underwear, damp with water and arousal, and moves his kisses closer to her aching sex. He looks up at her again from between her legs.

"May I, darling?" Astarion says with a smirk.

"Gods yes." Tomie says, breathless.

"Ah ah, yes what?" Astarion says coyly.

"Yes, Astarion".

A low moan comes from deep within him as he wraps his lips around her slit. His tongue slowly parting her lips to expose her clit. Her sweet juices covering his mouth within moments. He kisses and licks her clit slowly and gently, then with more force. Tomie starts to squirm and shake from the sensation. When he is sure she is about to go over the edge, he stops.

A dissapointed sigh comes from her.

"Don't worry darling, I'm not going to leave you hanging".

He removes his pants and exposes is throbbing length, sopping wet from arousal. He comes back up to meet her lips and presses deep kisses against her. He brings his elbows up to prop himself up while cradling her head. He hooks his leg under hers and brings it upwards. Then slowly slides the head of his cock between her slit tentatively. Rocking back and forth. A frusterated moan comes from her between kisses and with a laugh, he decides they've both had enough teasing. He finally slides himself in. A small whimper threatens to escape from his lips.

"Gods, never make me wait that long again, my dear" Astarion says breathless.

"Never again" Tomie moans.

They rock together in smooth motions, slowly at first then increasing in speed and desperation. Tomie pushes against him and they roll over so that Astarion is now lying on his back.

"You don't have to do all the work you know. Let me spoil you for once" Tomie purrs.

She slides herself back onto his length and begins to thrust her hips in rhythmic motion. Astarion places his hands on her hips to keep them steady. She looks stunning riding on top of him like this. Taking him in completely. She leans forward and they continue to rock and kiss against each other. Small whimpers come from Astarion as he grips her tighter. Thrusting more vigorously. She can't hold herself back anymore and rides into her orgasm. Legs shaking slightly and her pussy pulsing against his throbbing cock. He's not far behind, they both moan into each others mouths between kisses as they pass over the edge of bliss. Tomie collapses onto Astarions chest as they both giggle. Astarion wraps his arms around her and strokes her back. They both stay silent for a few moments. Cuddling into each other and slowing their breaths down.

"So, what do you think Gale made for dinner?" Tomie asks, looking up at him. Astarion lets out a hearty laugh.

"I don't know, but I'm sure it's nothing compared to the meal I just had."

Tomie giggles, then relaxes back onto his chest. He doesn't quite know what they are, or what he's feeling. But he does know that this? This is nice.

[spikesbicth]

Your Whole World

Astarion x Reader!Female!DarkUrge One shot

approx 3.2k words.

CW: 18+, minors DNI, face fucking, oral sex, fingering, PiV, smut, choking, bleeding, biting. rough sex, creampie, blood play

cross posted on ao3

A/N: oh hi everyone… I couldn’t resist adding an Astarion smut to my repertoire. Besides, he has such a chokehold on me right now. A few things; if you have read my other posted one shot, you make notice a few similarities. I’m very proud of that fic and this being my first time writing in over a year, I borrowed a few elements from it to inspire me and get ideas flowing. It’s minor, but just FYI. also, sorry if there are any glaring grammatical mistakes/typos/tense errors. also i barely proofread. the majority of this was written in the middle of the night so I could give all of you sadistic fucks the most heinous christmas gift ever. So enjoy some sex and a dash of fluff. please don’t hesitate to give me feedback :)

Nothing sparked a glow in Astarion’s eyes like watching you standing over your most recent kill; bloodied and battered beneath you moments after landing your final strike. Lowering your hands and brushing loose hair from out of your face, you lift your gaze to meet his.

“Gods, it never gets old watching you work” he purrs, stepping towards you to further relish the moment now that the enjoyment of the bloodbath you created could begin.

Months had passed since you freed yourselves of your pasts. Astarion, exacting revenge against Cazador and ascending to his present form. Yourself through your rejection of Bhaal. Together you destroyed the Elder Brain, banishing any doubt that either of you would be puppeted by anyone, ever again. You remembered the night it all ended fondly, Astarion pressing you to accept his gift of immortality. Though you declined at the time, citing your desire to experience the rush of near death but a few more times, you assured you always planned to accept and commit to an eternity with him. You also remembered the way he fucked you that night, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy and back. How he promised to make you edge for every so-called “rush-of-near-death” you wished to experience before entering immortality with him. How he fed on you until you were nearly drained, exacting his dominance over your life. How much you

fucking.

loved it.

In the time since that night, you had parted ways with your companions and set forth on your journey together. Time was spent ravaging the nobles estates, killing off anyone who threatened you, giving in to every sadistic whim and desire. Nothing but the exacting of pure chaos as a victory lap before getting down to the real business. Power was still to be exacted.

“My Queen of the Hells…” He breathes, stepping towards you across the white tiled floor of the home belonging to whatever Mage of High Sorcery you had just butchered. Still meeting his gaze, you watch his pupils dilate as the scent of your own blood from the oozing gash on your cheek overcomes him.

You smile, extending your hand for him to take. His hand meets yours for a brief moment, before tracing his fingers up your forearm across to your waist and holding you firmly against his body. The both of you take a moment to admire the bodies that dotted the main floor of the ornate home, and the blood that so starkly contrasted the white decor.

“Shall we explore?” You ask, a cunning smile spreading across your lips. Astarion nods, his face dotted with specks of blood and his pupils so black they eclipsed his crimson irises.

“My love, you know I want to.” He affirms, his voice liquid velvet echoing the grand hall you stood in. After all this time, even his smallest endearments still fill your abdomen with warmth.

Together, you proceed up the opulent white tile staircase to the second level. There is no secret as to what you were looking for. Nothing filled you with lust and desire the way watching Astarion dominate his opponents in battle did. His most malicious attacks read like a dance, it seemed even his enemies were not immune to melting in his striking gaze. Though you promised to yourself that you would never be a servant to anyone again, the rules were much more malleable when it came to Astarion. You adored being under him, subject to his control and desires, the feeling of existing to pleasure him. Property he cherished, though still his property, he once declared.

At the end of the hallway at the top of the stairs, the former tenants bedroom lay vacant and freshly tidied. You watch as his graceful hand turns the doorknob and unlatches the door. On the other side was an appropriately opulent bed chamber dimly lit by fading mage light, now that the magic of the previous owner had begun to dispel. Upon entering the room, Astarion’s focus intensifies on you.

“Gods… you’re so beautiful…” He turns to you, his eyes examining your face, one of his fangs caught on the outside of his slightly parted lips. He brings his free hand to your bloodied cheek, pressing his thumb into it. You welcome the wince of pain at his hand and lingering for a moment. You could see the lust in his darkened eyes, hear the desire in his gruff voice.

You bring your hand to meet his on your face, and press his thumb deeper into your wound. The pain elicits a sharp exhale, and you watch Astarions eyes flicker to yours then back to your wound. Every sensation he imparts upon you was a taste of bliss. He slips his hand out from under yours, and brings his thumb to his mouth, gently licking it before closing his lips around it. A soft moan escapes him. He wants all of you.

The moment he removes his thumb from his mouth, you move to meet his lips with yours, entering a forceful and hungry kiss. You taste the slight sour of your blood in his mouth as he teases your lips with his tongue. You press your body against his, feeling a growing bulge in his pants.

“May I, darling?” He asks as his hands find the bottom of your shirt . You nod, and he tugs it over your arms and head. Your freed breasts bounce gently from the movement, and Astarion quickly brings his fingers to your erecting nipples. You press yourself further into him, kissing him hard. He hadn’t yet removed his light armour, and the coolness of the metal tingles your nipples and hardens them even further. He kneels, trailing kisses down your chest as you stand, and makes quick work of the tie holding up your trousers. He slides them off you with your undergarments and aided you in removing your shoes. He rises to standing again, gently nibbling at you on the way up to meet your lips again.

You pull away from the kiss for a moment, bringing a hand down to the base of his top, awaiting him to assist you in the removal of his layers.

“Mmmm..” He moans in anticipation, “Not this time my pet.” A sultry growl in his voice. He places his hands on your shoulders, and slowly presses you down. “On your knees, my precious thing.” He orders.

You obey, lowering to the floor. The cold hard tile digging into your kneecaps as you look up to Astarion from the ground.

You are his precious thing.

He takes a step back to remove his own armor and clothing as you watch, kneeling naked on the floor in front of him. Your heart quickened and you felt your folds dampen with arousal as Astarion removed his pants, freeing his erect cock that had been buldging for freedom just moments prior. His tip already slick with precum, glistening in the dusky room. Your mouth waters in anticipation. He indulges in a few strokes of his length before stepping closer to you, your eyes level with his muscular lower abdomen. There you sat beneath him, eyes wide with admiration and chilled from the cool tile floor, dripping in your own arousal, waiting.

“My love, do open your mouth for me.” He asks, his voice a breathy hush.

You obey, parting your lips and letting your tongue slide out. You knew how he wanted to use you, how you wanted to worship him. With your hands clasped behind your back, you welcomed his cock into your mouth. Your mouth waters at the saltiness of his precum and Astarion’s composure falters as a moan escapes him. He adored fucking you this way.

His cock quickly met the back of your throat, and you began to salivate fiercely to welcome it. You try to swallow but your throat closes around Astarion’s cock, and saliva begins to pool in your lower jaw. He slowly fucks your mouth, pulling out so that his tip met your lips, then thrusting hard to push his cock further and further down your throat, digging for your gag reflex. You cough, and your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh, that’s it pet,” He moans, pushing deeper into your throat. Tears spill over, running down your cheeks and you blink to clear your vision as well as you can. He feels the flood of saliva building in your mouth and withdraws, then cocks his head to one side in admiration of you. Saliva flows down your chin and neck, dripping on the floor between you. You gasp for air, then open your mouth once again. He smirks, and runs his hand through your hair. He aligns his cock with your mouth again once more, you allow him to enter but not before teasing the spot below his glans that you know will send thunder through him.

The delicate moment is lost upon an abrupt thrust of Astarion’s hips, forcing his cock as far down your throat as he could. He continues to fuck your face with concentrated thrusts at the back of your throat, blocking any air from entering your lungs. A burning sensation grows in your chest as you try and fail gasp for air. Your vision grows fuzzy as a dark veil begins to shroud the corners of your vision, and you begin to choke. He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you off of your cock, leaving a string of saliva pulling from your mouth to the tip of his throbbing length. Tears trail down your cheeks and you quietly gasp for air. Seconds after you inhale he shoves his cock back into you, fucking even harder than before.

“That's it my love, I know you yearn for breathlessness, I could give you this forever.” He praises, tightening his grip on your hair and humming with pleasure. You catch him with his gaze towards the ceiling, enjoying the filthy sounds. Beginning to feel the fire in your chest building again, Astarion pulls himself out and you gasp for breath, this time with enough time to notice the tears and saliva mixing with the blood from your face flowing down your bare chest.

Nearly as exerted as yourself, Astarion comes to his knees to greet you, meeting your slick and swollen lips with his own.

“Look what you’ve done to me…” you whispered between kisses, reaching up to feel the wetness on your face.

“I am not nearly done with you yet,” Astarion growls, pulling away from your lips then tonguing over his own, relishing the taste of your blood. He placed one hand on your mid back, and another to guide you down to lay gently on the floor. The chill of the tile on your warmed skin sent a shiver through your body, causing your nipples to erect once again and goosebumps to cover your body. Astarion smirks, admiring your body and the arousal leaking from between your legs. He works his way down your neck placing loose, open mouth kisses down your neck and chest, allowing his fangs to catch on your skin as he moves. He finds your left nipple and began to trace his tongue around the hardened sphere of flesh, sucking and flicking.

“Astar…ion….” you moan, fluttering your eyes. Now he was just teasing you, waiting for your patience to wane. “A..Ast..star..ion” you moan again, your clit swelling and throbbing between your legs. “P…p..please… Ast..star..ion” you beg, undulating your hips to touch his, attempting to alert him of your desires.

“Impatient tonight are we, my dear?” He coos, looking up to your eyes from where his face rested on your breast.

“P..please… touch me..” you beg, and you see a grin spread across his face, his two fangs glinting in the light.

“Now am I supposed to say no to that?” he asserts, not breaking his gaze as he begins kissing and lightly biting down your abdomen. Your stomach fluttered as you watched him move towards your pelvis. You admire his beautiful silver curls shift on his head while he moves his hands to your thighs to signal you to spread them, and you obey.

He traces circles with his fingers on your thighs, sending shivers through your body. Slick fluid drips through your folds and you feel your walls pulsating with the beat of your heart, you are desperate for him. You are certain you have never wanted anyone more than you have ever wanted Astarion, beautiful, powerful, Astarion. His aspirations, his ascension, and your mutual freedom, his unwavering devotion to you and only you. Gods, was there anything else you truly needed besides him?

You are snapped back to reality when he licks his cunning tongue up your folds, circling quickly around your clit. You take a sharp breath in and wrap your legs over his muscular shoulders, taking a fistful of his curls in your right hand. He wraps an arm around one leg and pressed down on your lower abdomen a few finger widths above your pelvic bone, not breaking the contact between his tongue and your clit. His ascendant strength holds you down as you adjust your hips, begging for him to indulge you. He teases your entrance with an icy finger, and you clench around nothing. A moment later, he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, hooking them rhythmically to catch your G-spot. Your back arches and waves of warmth course through your body, reveling in the pleasure he was bestowing upon you. He drags you up to the “Darling, I thought you’d never ask” he responds coyley. It was often routine for him to feed on you while he fucked you, elevating his own ecstasy and you enjoying the way he held your delicious little life in his hands.

He kisses his way to your left inner thigh, and without warning, pierces his fangs into your tender skin, and blood begins to spill. You breathe out slowly, enjoying the pain he inflicts on you and the pleasure from the fingers still toying with your clit. You feel him drinking from you and your blood pressure dropping, sending a shockwave of dizziness to your head. This was pleasure like you had never experienced before him.

Astarion rises from his feed at your thigh, and slinks his way back to meet your mouth with his. Once again you taste your own blood in his mouth as he kisses you with such urgency and near corporeal desire.

“I need you… to be inside you..” he desperately speaks between kisses, and you feel him shift his weight to fumble with his throbbing cock. His facade has cracked, palpable, burning eagerness leaking through. He parts your folds and drags his cock against his bite, still exuding blood. For a moment he teases your entrance with his tip, but you know his grip on his composure was slipping. Carnal. Insatiable, it was coming.

He thrusts inside of you, and you moan with adjuration. Your walls expand for him, and you spread your legs, bending your knees to allow him the deepest thrusts he could muster. Your breasts bouncing in rhythm with him, and you reach your arms around his shoulders to pull him nearer to you. You moan hungrily in his ear, knowing this and the filthy noises of your fucking would drive him duly mad. He moans, breathing heavily and kissing you hard, enjoying every sensation of you around his cock. It was clear that he was edging to his finale, but it was now your turn.

You untangle your arms from him and press your hands on the front of your chest, and gain enough leverage to roll him off you and onto his back, you, only an instant behind him. You slide him back inside of you, then bring your hand to his mouth for another taste of your wetness and blood. He closes his eyes and licks your fingers, preparing himself for your turn of the fun.

His cock flexes inside of you and you find his wrists and guide his arms above his head, gripping them tightly to the floor. Your extended position leaves your breasts hanging just above his mouth, and he lifts his head to lick and suck. Slowly at first, you lift your hips so only the tip of his length remains inside of you, linger for a moment, only to come crashing down to him. His eyes widened and mouth opened, an aching moan coming from within him. You repeated the motion, watching him gasp and moan, withholding and flooding him with pleasure. The stickiness of your arousal, his precum, and your blood mixing on his thighs, squelching with each of your movements. After demonstrating your control over him, you release your grip from his wrists above his head, and lean back, forcing his cock to press into your walls. His hands find your hips, and he digs his fingers into you as you rhythmically fuck him. You push him closer and closer as slowly as you can handle. You push him to the edge, so, so close.

You find your swollen clit with your free hand, and begin rubbing in heavy circles. Astarion loves watching you pleasure yourself on him, using him to reach your own peak before allowing him his own. As you rub yourself and ride him, you feel intense pleasure rising within you.

“I- I’m going to come,” you moan, moving your hips faster and faster on his cock while applying more pressure on your throbbing clit.

Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words arrive, only fast, broken breaths.

You sing his name while you squeeze him with your thighs, gushing over his cock. Finally, you are over the edge. An intense euphoria floods through you as your walls contract around his cock. Your heart races and you gasp for breath, reveling in the pure pleasure you were experiencing. Astarion bucks his hips into you, desperate to spill himself inside. His silver curls now clung to his sweat-dampened forehead.

“O-oh f.. oh fuck…” He speaks, now fully lost his control and desperate only to join you in your pleasure. The contractions of your walls on him are sending him over. A powerful moan rises from his chest and with a few beastly thrusts inside of you, he spills. When he comes, he throws his head back and moans your name so it echoes within the tiled bed chambers.

His thrusts mellow, and eventually his twitching cock inside you calms. You lay forward on him,

His breath slows, and he wraps his arms around you, welcoming his coolness. He kisses your temple, then begins to rise. He helps you to the freshly made bed, and rests beside you.

“I love you, Astarion.” you say quietly, delighting in his arms woven around you.

There you lay together in your nakedness, the sweetness of your undying love cleansing all desire for anything more. No promise of power could be worth the sacrifice of losing each other. Despite both your aspirations and contributions to chaos, the constant of having each other for eternity was an invaluable prize to you both. You turn and delicately kiss his neck, breathing in and savouring his scent garnished with the metallic of your blood that was beginning to dry and crack on your skin. You feel his embrace tighten around you and you close your eyes, listening to his beating heart and melting into the arms of your little star. And he loves you too.

[andauril]

Chapter Title: Monster Under My Skin

Chapter Summary: Silaestra learns there is a price to pay for her defiance, and the truth is finally revealed.

(art by @/morebird)

Pairing: Astarion x Female Dark Urge

Summary: When Astarion called Silaestra a "kindred spirit", the first time they met, he could never have known how right he ended up being.

Chapter Warnings: Dark Urge Darkness, some gruesome descriptions of intrusive thoughts and fantasies etc.

Excerpt:

She woke with her head resting on his shoulder. Her skin felt too hot, burning, feverish almost; but his touch was a relief. Like a cool breeze on a sweltering summers day; no … like a rainshower, dousing her as she burned alive.  “Good morning, my love”, he said.  Astarion was beautiful even with the inprint of a pillow on his cheek and unruly, untamed curls falling into his eye.  “It’s a good morning now”, she replied, unable not to smile. “Did you have a good rest?” He opened his mouth to answer. She turned around, swift as a snake, and lunged at him. He thrashed under her, desperate, frantic, but she’d already whispered the spell, had already pulled the dagger from underneath the pillows. The look of shock in his face was thrilling , and she grinned at him wildly as she thrust the blade into his throat, thunder rippling along his pale flesh as the spell ripped him apart … It hadn’t happened that way. She remembered what had happened that morning, and it hadn’t been this.  He’d answered. She hadn’t attacked him.  It had been a good morning, nothing like this.  She had straddled him, but to kiss him, and perhaps they would’ve done more than that. But Karlach had interrupted. “Nothing to complain about”, Astarion replied. She was resting her head on his shoulder again. He sounded almost surprised when he said that, and his tone was warm with affection.  The memory changed.

[anda-arts]

“Oh, darling, I never doubted it in the slightest. Your heartbeat already gave that away.” He sounded quite smug when he said that; that smile was still on his face, pretty and too perfect. “There is a spark between us. A connection. We could explore it together, if you want …” “As flattered as I am …” And he was, maddeningly, right what her heart was concerned. To deny that he had a certain effect on her would be pointless now. “… if this is because I helped you kill the hunter, then I’ll have to decline.” “You are a sweetheart, my dear, but I assure you that the hunter is more of an excuse than anything.” Oddly, she believed it. This was far from the first time that he’d used honeyed words and pretty smiles for her. And while Silaestra doubted that his intentions began and ended with wanting to bed her … He’d stepped closer to her. So close that she could reach out and touch him, if she wanted to. Close enough for her to smell his cologne, the blend of bergamot, rosemary and finely aged brandy. Her throat felt dry. Her heart was racing. There was no way he wasn’t aware of the effect he had on her. “Then what are you waiting for?”, she said, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Instead of an answer, he leaned in and kissed her.

(from my fanfic "Mosaic of Broken Chains", Chapter 6).

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Commission Info

[ancuninfiles]

Lithium Pt. 1 [FULLY REVISED]

Art by Jen Mazza | The art that I've found that best describes this story.

12.3k words - F/M - Astarion x F! OC Durge - 18+

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence.

Summary: On an aimless journey, Ronnie (Durge) would do anything to fix her violent paroxysms after having woken up in the hospital in London, UK with a bandage around her head and nobody willing to answer her questions. Five years had passed, and she'd gained one friend: Jenevelle or DJ Shadowheart on Friday nights.

However, on this particular Friday night, Ronnie spotted a handsome man with piercing eyes, wearing a suit, and sticking out like a sore thumb because of it amongst the sweaty crowd of party-goers.

—𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮?

After meeting Astarion's boss in a rather unfortunate way, Ronnie is forced to contemplate the morality of murder.

Astarion's words echoed in her memory. “𝘕𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.”

Does Astarion truly only want Ronnie for her ability to maim and kill, or is there something else he sees in her—something... 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 he feels when he's with her?

Sex. Drugs. Violence. Yet, amongst it all... .·:*¨𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦¨*:·.

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 💔 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞.

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

Tags: smut, spanking, probably bad BDSM etiquette, vaginal fingering, drugs, alternate universe | modern setting, mildly dubious consent, praise kink, soft dom Astarion, self-harm, suicidal ideation, Astarion is actually a sweetie, read full tag list

MASTERLIST (Other works)

Read on AO3 for full tag list and proper formatting

I'm not posting it here </3 sorry

Download the EPUB to read on Google Books or Apple Books (Useful for saving your spot if you can't read it all in one go.)

[astarionmademewriteit]

The Lovers

Spawn!Astarion x Durge f!Tav x Halsin (Minor role)

Cycles between Astarion and Tav POV

Rating: Mature themes (No smut)

Wordcount: 9.4k (Long one-shot)

Tags: Many many Act 3 spoilers, violent images, torture, self-loathing, depression, refusing to eat, eluding to SA, codependency, hurt/comfort, angst, blood drinking, injuries, brief mentions of sex (if you squint). If I missed a tag, let me know.

Summary: What started as a great day at the Circus of the Last Days ends with Astarion gaining insight from a fortune teller into his future as the ascendant vampire and Tav as Bhaal’s chosen. Astarion decides to face Cazador alone and keeps it a secret from Tav–slipping into the night and leaving only a small note. Halsin is there, promising to watch over Tav. However, Tav suffers in his absence (sometimes lashing out at Halsin), but Astarion knows it is better than the alternative–their collective demise and the loss of love.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

✧*̥˚ Astarion POV *̥˚✧

The Circus of the Last Days was teeming with excitement and laughter, children with face paint ran rampant through the grounds, weaving through the stalls where merchants yelled at passersby looking to make a pretty copper. Other stalls tried to sell the promise of financial abundance with the spin of a wheel, but it was all too easy for me to see they were rigged to steal money from the pockets of the idiotic. Their tactful manipulation is reminiscent of the days I spent as Cazador’s puppet, luring people in with the luxury of pleasure beyond their wildest imaginations.

It was not a bad business strategy, to be sure. But stealing straight from the pockets of the unaware was a quicker solution to our financial needs. I look towards Tav, watching the way her eyes scanned the crowd with quiet excitement. A smile plays on my lips. After all the danger we have faced, the chaotic nature of our adventures has not dimmed the light in her eyes–the happiness that paints her aura in such beautiful vibrant colors.

I wish the same could be said for myself. I can practically feel the looming shadow of the Szarr palace on the horizon, its threatening presence taunting me at every turn–reminding me of the centuries of pain, torment, and abuse Cazador subjected me to. My fists tighten, and I try to steady my breathing lest I spiral into a dark and violent rage–revenge feeding the anger that once laid dormant in the pit of my stomach. I can almost feel the sting of his blade carving his infernal contract into my back, blood slipping from my back in blooming rivulets where steel meets flesh. I grind my teeth at the memory.

“Astarion, look!” Tav squeals with childish glee snapping me out of my tortured reverie. Murderous as she was, her innocent nature overrode her violent tendencies in this moment. Her bloodlust replaced by the overwhelming need to momentarily forget our places in the world–the parts we were meant to play. I follow her gaze and spot a fortune teller’s tent nestled between two stalls selling enchanted jewelry and exotic furs, their claims of authenticity are laughable. To the untrained eye, one would easily fall for such fraudulent claims, but I knew better. Honestly, how this group would survive without my expertise was beyond me.

Tav closes the distance between us and looks up at me with rounded eyes and a pouty lip, “We should try it!” My mouth twitches, threatening to split my face in two. 

“Darling,” I warn playfully, “Need I remind you that half these booths are wasteful ventures that we should avoid? We might as well throw our money in the garbage. Besides,” I drag a knuckle down her jawline to the base of her throat, “I’m the only one who should be draining you dry.” My words have their desired effect, her skin flushing–the smell of her blood carried on the warm breeze wafts to my nostrils. The elation I feel from her scent alone makes my mouth water.

A sharp raspy voice cuts through our moment, “You. Vampire.” I snap my head towards the fortune teller’s tent, a wrinkled decrepit woman leers at me with glassy eyes. Her long robes draped to the ground and her back is hunched painfully behind her, diminishing her height by at least a foot.

“In the flesh,” I bow sarcastically in her direction. Uncertainty washes through my entire body  and I feel Tav stiffen at my side.

“We have much to discuss regarding your future,” She murmurs, her voice grates my ears in the most unpleasant ways.

I sneer, “I doubt you have anything worthwhile to spew, hag,” I growl coldly. I wasn’t about to fall for her thieving tricks. Our gold would be better spent elsewhere.

She wheezes out a laugh, “You will pay a heftier price without my help.” It’s as if she has read my mind. Probably just another party trick meant to lure people into spending money they do not have. However, something tugs at the back of my mind–warning me that she is true to her word.

Halsin moves to my side and places a burly hand on my shoulder, the weight only adding to my own doubts, “Hear the woman out, my heart,” he whispers, “I sense no deception from her.” Tav is nodding her head in agreement, her eyes wide with apprehension and anxiety, and I groan at their collective consensus. It was almost annoying having two people intent on drowning me with their unconditional care. Almost.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, I finally give in, “Fine, my dears,” I huff unenthusiastically, “But I expect to be showered in apologies when I come back empty-handed,” I roll my eyes.

 Halsin chuckles behind me, “Don't worry, my Star. Everything will be alright.”

“We'll be here, waiting for you,” Tav says on my other side, giving me a reassuring squeeze on the arm and a light kiss on the cheek.

I gulp and swallow my pride before entering the witch's tent. Incense wafts through the air, sending tendrils of smoke curling to the sky. Various charms hang from the walls and the shelves are littered with trinkets, tomes, and dead creatures in jars of liquid. It is all very pedestrian.

“Spawn,” the hag’s grotesque voice rings through the air snapping me out of my reverie, “Save your judgements for the future,” she gestures at an empty chair across from her, divided by a small table with a crystal ball centered in the middle. Her consistent peek into my thoughts was unnerving but not unexplainable considering the wall of potions seated behind her against the back of the tent. She most likely used a mind-reading potion. It felt more invasive than a stake in the ribs, to be fair.

I cautiously take a seat across from the hag, impatience brimming on my tongue, “Let’s just get this little performance over with.” I roll my eyes and take a relaxed pose, watching the hag expectantly.

“I can assure you, dear Astarion, that this is no performance,” she pins me down with her glassy stare, “Devils whisper in my ear, speaking of your demise. I rather think you should hear me out.”

Her words sway me slightly, the promise of a devil should not be heeded lightly, nor the promise of one’s demise. I huff exasperatingly, “Fine, spin me your tale of the future.”

She smiles lightly before fishing in the pockets of her robe, pulling out an ambiguous vial of clear liquid and reaching across the table, offering the strange elixir with an open palm, “Drink and we may begin.”

I eye the vial cautiously, a putrid smell wafts through the air, promising bitterness on the tongue. I snatch the vial from her hand and drink before I can change my mind. I am doing this for Tav and Halsin if nothing else. The bitter liquid slides down my throat with ease, souring my stomach immediately. Warmth immediately washes over me, rivaling the warmth I feel when drinking from the necks of my partners. 

My head begins to swim as magic rolls through my body in thick undulating waves, threatening to pull me under. I steady myself, gripping the side of the table in front of me for support as I ride out the arcane sensation. 

“Peer into the crystal ball, Astarion,” the witch commands, “I have much to reveal.”

I focus my eyes on the object in front of me, the crystal ball that was once clear suddenly swims with visions too quick for me to latch on to. The dizzying effects of the elixir begin to subside ever so slightly, and the images in the crystal ball begin to slow, flashing images of Cazador carving scars into my back with agonizing precision. I wince at the memories, feeling the sharp pain of torture carving into my back.

“Your former master, Cazador, has made an infernal pact with a devil it seems,” the hag rasps pragmatically.

“Yes, yes,” I huff through gritted teeth, ignoring the searing pain of my scars, “I already know he plans to complete the Rite of Profane Ascension. Tell me something I don’t know.” I ball my hands into fists, wishing to forget the torture Cazador put me through that night and willing away other, darker thoughts of being sequestered in a tomb–a year of darkness and pathetic attempts of escape.

The image of my scars reflected in the crystal ball dissipate and are replaced by images of my former targets–people I willingly lured to Cazador in the hopes that he would not punish me again, but instead finding new forms of punishment through using my body in ways that I would never have consented to if I hadn’t been chained to his power. Something is different about the victims that stare at me through the curved glass, their eyes are blood-red now, familiar scars mark their bodies, and they suffer behind gilded bars under the Szarr palace.

“Your targets still breathe, newly changed, serving as a blood sacrifice. Seven thousand souls writhe beneath the floors, facing their inevitable death.”

“T-they’re alive? But–how?” I manage to sputter, utterly bewildered by the information and the painful reality that has just been set before me. They have suffered decades–no, centuries–beneath the palace. I thought they were dead. They should be dead. But–why? Then the truth hits me like a ton of bricks. Their souls will be exchanged for his ascension. Not just seven spawn, but seven thousand souls. It takes all my strength to keep from collapsing onto the floor in anguish. This cannot be happening. Cazador has played me for such a fool. Anger wells in my chest and I have to restrain myself from throwing the crystal ball across the room.

“Control yourself, spawn” the hag eyes me cautiously, “the truth of your future has yet to be revealed.”

I suddenly feel as if I want to empty all the contents of my stomach onto the floor as the bitter taste of the elixir dances across my tongue. What more could there possibly be? Was I even prepared to face it?

Before I have time to decide, the images shift yet again. A vague shape takes form, and the person in the crystal ball stares back at me with a familiar gaze. It takes me a moment to realize that I am looking at myself, but it only feels like a stranger staring back at me. Tav enters the frame and stands next to me, a worried expression painted across her features. My eyes look crazed and hungry for something more. I look at the hag for clarity, but she urges me to keep watching.

The images shift again, and I am standing over Cazador’s bruised body. He cowers below me as I grip a dagger in my hand. Suddenly, I am barking orders directed at Tav, pleading with her to connect our tadpoles so that I can copy the scars from my back into Cazador’s flesh.

Relief washes over me as I realize that everything I have been fighting for would be worth it if my future promised my own ascension in my former master’s place. His body, the bodies of my brothers and sisters, and the targets I lured to the palace disintegrate into ashy piles as power flows through my body, centered in the middle of the bloody Black Mass. Revenge never looked so sweet.

“Do not forget yourself, Astarion,” the hag breaks me from my concentrated stare, “You will lose your soul too.”

I take a moment before answering, “That is not an unreasonable transaction, especially if it means I become powerful enough to protect myself and the ones I care about. Nobody would harm me ever again,” I lean back and cross my arms over my chest, the tension from earlier melting away as I sit with this new reality.

The witch eyes me wearily before continuing, “You seem so concerned with protecting Tav from danger, but who will protect her from you?” She waves her hand over the crystal ball, willing the previous images of the ritual away and replacing them with images of Tav. Her vermillion eyes are illuminated, watching me with practiced reverence. Puncture wounds scar her neck, and her movements are sharper and more precise. So, she would allow me to turn her if it meant spending eternity with me. A small smirk plays on my lips.

“I hardly see how her becoming a vampire is any consolation,” I bark with renewed arrogance.

“Not a vampire,” the hag replies sharply, “a spawn. Forever a slave–bending to your will.”

I brush off her remark, “I would never treat her as Cazador treated me. Do not act like you know the first thing about me.” 

An amused grin pulls at the corners of her crusted lips, “Your soul says that now, but do not forget that you sacrifice that and so much more by choosing this path.”

I roll my eyes and focus on the crystal ball once again. Reflecting back at me are the same eyes I’ve come to adore, but now they look pained and resentful as they stare back at me. I falter momentarily, and if my heart were still alive, it would die all over again.

“W-well,” I stammer, back-pedaling slightly, “I’m sure the power dynamic would be…unsavory. But I’m confident Tav would still find it in her heart to love me,” I whisper, trying to convince myself rather than the hag. I continue to watch as darkness shrouds the eyes of my beloved and I begin to feel less sure of myself with every passing second. 

“A vampire’s greatest threat is another vampire,” the hag recites, mirroring the words I uttered not long ago, “The love you have cultivated will be nothing more than ash in your mouth,” she warns.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat but remain silent. “You will set Tav down a dark path of her own should you choose to ascend,” her words do not falter at this admission, and I know she speaks the truth.

As if to solidify her words, the images shift yet again. Now Tav stands before the bloodied walls of Bhaal’s underground temple, Orin dead at her feet. She is faced with an avatar of her father, and she kneels before him accepting her fate as his chosen. The promise of carnage and violence flits through her eyes as she transforms into a grotesque slayer, her features warped by the bloodied maw of the beast, all emotion siphoned from her eyes as murderous intent envelopes her completely. 

All words on my tongue fall away as I stare at all she has become–everything she has valiantly resisted now a distant memory…an empty promise that echoes of slaughter. “She..” I choke out the words, “She accepts her fate as Bhaal’s chosen if I ascend?” I peered up at the hag, wishing I could wipe the smugness from her wrinkled face. 

“Truly a terrifying couple,” she rasps, “reviled by all… and resented by one another.” 

I look down in shock as the images twist grotesquely into a new picture. My powers wash through Tav’s body, forcing her to act against her will. I force myself to watch, even though I wish very badly to tear my eyes from the horrible images. Tav grips a dagger, hanging still in the air as if frozen in time, inches away from piercing my heart... So, I will drive her to murderous rage, so much so that she would willingly kill me. The love that once hung between us is now non-existent as hate fills her eyes.

So, this is what's to come… Unimaginable power at the expense of my soul… Tav’s soul… and the budding love that lies between us. The promise of death and murder the last thread tying us together.

I stare dumbfounded as the new revelation washes over me, more powerful than Cazador’s power imbuing me with his will. 

“This cannot be…” I whisper, my hands trembling at my sides. My body racks with pain as I continue to watch. The bloody future unfolds before me as our bodies lay lifeless beside one another. Our inevitable demise ends at the hands of one another, effectively destroying the trust and mutual care we have built together… between each other. The images fade to black, leaving a deep-seated wound in my heart.

“This,” the hag gestures towards the now empty crystal ball, “is to be your fate, if you so choose.”

I sit frozen, too stunned to speak. Tears threaten to flood my eyes and anger washes through my body with agonizing intensity. “Why,” I ask through gritted teeth, “Why show me all this?” My words now sting with acid, “Why, help me?” I stand suddenly, knocking the table off kilter. 

The hag grabs the crystal ball before it has a chance to shatter on the floor. A part of me wishes it had, as if that would undo the future it laid before me. She eyes me sternly before reaching into her robes once again and retrieving a card. She hands it to me, and I reach out and snatch it from her hands, letting anger control my limbs.

The card is decorated with a kaleidoscope of colors and gold foil, its design is ostentatious and obtrusive. I flip it over to find an image of two bodies romantically entwined and the phrase “The Lovers” embellished along the bottom. I look at the hag, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Because…” she says after a moment of contemplation, “I wish someone had extended the same courtesy to me when I was younger.”

I simply stared at her, half wondering what she had experienced to end up in a place like this. I lower the card on the table and turn to leave. I hover just before the exit and turn my head, “This… is a gift you know. I will never forget it.” I drop a satchel of gold on a nearby table before exiting the tent without another word, steeling myself to face Tav.

Should I tell her? I think it would be unwise, but guilt wracks my body as I see the look of pure love that adorns her face when she catches sight of me. Her features are now covered in face paint, and I cannot hide my own amusement. But it feels shallow, the weight of my future encumbers me and every step I take towards Tav…every second I look into her beautiful eyes is just another reminder of what she could become–of what I would enable. 

I slip into my charming facade, choosing to hide the looming threat that hangs over my shoulders like a wraith clings to the shadows. 

“Astarion!” Tav squeals excitedly, “What did she tell you?” Her body shivers with anticipation, and she hops enthusiastically on her heels as she waits patiently for my reply.

“Nothing of note, really,” I wave her off nonchalantly, “Just the usual propaganda a lonely wench spouts hoping to siphon money from her visitors.”

“Oh,” Tav looks down, disappointed, “Like what?”

“Finding love,” I say, lifting her chin with the tip of my finger. Her eyes find mine and light up at the prospect, “Accruing unimaginable wealth and happiness if I follow my dreams. That sort of thing,” the lie falls easily from my lips and I scold myself internally for resorting to shallow lies, especially where Tav is concerned. We have built a bond based on trust and consent. I have already tainted that bond by withholding the truth, depriving her of her right to know what the future holds.

I try to push down the guilt that rips through me, more painful than any injury I have sustained on our road to Baldur’s Gate thus far–and there were times I was close to death. But this pain is incomparable. Self-loathing starts to creep its way through my very bones, threatening to shatter my carefully rehearsed mask.

“Uh, darling” I say carefully, “I’m suddenly not feeling well. Perhaps we should head back to camp.”

Tav eyes me warily. I’m almost certain she knows that I am hiding something–her attunement to my many masks have sharpened over the months and I silently curse myself for being so predictable at this moment. 

If she suspects anything, she makes no mention of it but agrees that we should head back to camp. Halsin promises to fashion some sort of tincture to soothe whatever ails me and I acquiesce, trying to widen the berth between me and their suspicion. 

Back at camp I withdraw into my tent, pacing the small enclosure reminiscing on the words spoken by the witch. I was filled with dread and wracked with guilt. Tav's unconditional loyalty towards me would be nothing but a tool of manipulation I would use to seek power that I now realize should never belong to me, no matter how intensely I craved it as a means of protection. 

I could be up front with Tav, but I knew she would urge me to face Cazador with her by my side–always the hero. The promise of power would be too much to turn down, like a shiny hook baiting a fish. Tav’s loyalty and unbreakable need to please me would prove an easy avenue for manipulation–something that would surely end with our inevitable demise. I couldn’t put myself in a position to force her hand, and I absolutely could not put Tav in a position to accept her own dark fate. Her love was the first good thing to happen to me in the centuries since I became a vampire, and it could be undone so easily. I could not let that happen, even if it meant facing Cazador alone.

It was the only way.

“Astarion,” Tav’s sweet voice filters through the tent, breaking me from my thoughts. She pulls back the flap of my tent after a moment and looks at me with caution in her eyes.

“Yes, my dear?” I slip back into my easy facade, knowing full well what needs to be done.

She closes the distance between us, careful not to touch me without permission. Always the astute observer. I smile softly at her, trying to repress the memories of her deadened eyes as they looked at me with resentment. That was not her. It would not be us.

“H-how are you feeling?” She shifts nervously, fully aware that something weighs heavy on my mind.

“Honestly? I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. Arriving in Baldur’s Gate has stirred some… unpleasant memories.” It wasn’t a complete lie, just an omission of the entire truth.

“I understand,” She whispers carefully, “I’ll always be here when you need me. You won’t face this alone.” Determination fills her eyes and I know she wholeheartedly believes the words she speaks. I do too. 

“Thank you, my love,” I whisper after a moment, my words painted with sincere gratitude. I don’t expect her to forgive me for what I’m about to do. But it is the only way I can protect her. I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She gives me the strength to do the right thing.

Tav turns to leave but stops short and looks over her shoulder, “You can feed on me tonight, if you like.” My breath hitches in my throat. My attempt at selflessness falls short as she offers herself so freely to me. I knew it would be selfish of me to accept, knowing that I would vanish from camp while she unknowingly slept. But it could also be my best chance at surviving the encounter with Cazador. Would she forgive me if I made it out alive?

“I-I’ll…okay my dear,” my mask falters momentarily, “I’ll see you tonight. Thank you.” I bow my head with gratitude as she exits the tent.

As I wait for the sun to set, I fill my time with mindless reading around the campfire, searching through various texts that might provide useful information for the fight to come. I sift through a particularly dull tome when something falls from between the pages, fluttering to the ground like a feather being shed from a bird.

For a moment I look at the object, completely bewildered by what lay at my feet. I reach down and pick up the card. The words “The Lovers” are inscribed across the bottom edge. The witch’s tarot card stares back at me as if to taunt me. “What in the nine hells,” I whisper to myself.

“What’s the matter, my heart?” Halsin’s booming voice echoes behind me, and I spin on my heels, quickly tucking the card in my pocket.

“Oh Halsin! My dear, you startled me,” I laugh nervously, “Actually, there’s something I need to confess. I trust you will understand and assist me in this one thing.” Although our relationship is newer, I trusted Halsin with my life, and Tav’s life. I know he will watch over her while I am away–however long that might be. Hopefully not forever.

“Of course,” Halsin’s face softens, “I shall lend you an ear.”

I pull Halsin to my tent discreetly, eyeing Tav across camp as she accompanies Gale while he cooks.

I quickly relay all that the witch showed me, Halsin’s face falling with concern when I deliver the horrid news. A small weight was lifted from my shoulders at the confession.

“That is concerning,” Halsin whispers, “How are you feeling?” he reaches out and caresses my cheek tenderly.

I laugh sarcastically, “Not well, as you might imagine. That is why I need you to watch over Tav while I slip out of camp and face Cazador alone.” The weight of my words causes Halsin to still.

“Astarion,” his voice shaky, “You’re certain this is the only way? What if–” his sentence dies on his lips, too difficult to utter the very words that haunt me as well.

“I have to try,” I whisper after a moment, “Even if it means I won't make it back,” speaking the words aloud suddenly makes them feel real. It was a possibility I would die and Cazador succeeded in completing the ritual. But I was out of options.

“Tav will be devastated,” Halsin’s concerned tone washes over me, only adding to my fears.

“Yes, well,” I laugh nervously, “It is better than the alternative. I am sure you would agree.” I pause before continuing, knowing the next part will be difficult for him to swallow, “She cannot know where I’ve gone–this is important, Halsin. She will follow me, and all of this will be for naught. It’s… for her own good.”

After quiet contemplation Halsin agrees, “ She will not see it that way, Astarion, but I promise to do as you say, my Star. But you must make it back to us. A world without you would be unjust,” his voice breaks. I slip him a folded note and instruct him to give it to Tav once she notices my absence.

I smile and pull him in close, placing a soft kiss on his lips. His arms wrap around me protectively–an unsaid goodbye passes between us. I pull away before I can change my mind.

“Thank you, Halsin. I will not forget what you have done for us,” I nod before exiting the tent. There was nothing left to say.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

✧*̥˚ Tav POV *̥˚✧

I search among our companions for Astarion. He has been particularly aloof this evening and I could not ignore the concern as it flooded through my veins. I knew that arriving on the doorstep of Baldur’s Gate would be difficult for him, but I couldn’t shake this feeling that he was avoiding me. If he wanted his space, I would respectfully take a step back while he sorted through his feelings, but I couldn't help but worry that he was spiraling into a dark void that would be impossible to pull him from. At what point do I step in? I tread a fragile line–one that could potentially cross over into territory that I wished to avoid at all costs if I wanted to carefully respect his boundaries.

Even still, something awful churned in my stomach–a sense of foreboding tugged at the recesses of my mind. I’ve learned to trust my intuitive nature. My life training in the Temple of Bhaal sharpened my instincts into a fine point that rivaled the very daggers we equipped ourselves with. However, even years of honing my mind will not assist in revealing what darkness lingers on the horizon, until it has fallen upon me. It’s blinding disruption, a promise that haunts me. If only it would reveal itself before it’s too late.

I look up to the sky, its domed shape spattered with twinkling stars, heckling me with false hope. If any gods could hear my silent prayers, they showed no sign of acknowledgement. Praying was a trivial pursuit, but it felt right in this moment, even if they went unanswered. I know not what lies ahead, but I knew it was not good. 

“Quite the sight,” Astarion whispers from behind me, mirroring the hollow words he once spoke in the first few nights of our meeting. I spin around to find his vermillion eyes watching me with a careful expression, “You, I mean.” He whispers, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

I let out a breathy laugh, relief washing over me as his presence pulls me away from the impending dread that inhabits my body.

He opens his arms invitingly, ushering me into his cool embrace. I gladly comply, welcoming the feel of his body against mine. His arms wrap around my waist and pull me in tight, threatening to never let go.

“I missed you,” I whispered in his ear.

“I haven’t gone anywhere, darling,” he laughs quietly.

“I know. But every moment that I am away from you is more agonizing than the last.” His body stiffens at my truthful words and panic begins to settle in the pit of my stomach. I hope I haven't crossed a line. “Sorry,” I amend quickly, “I just enjoy your company.”

He pulls away, but keeps his arms firmly wrapped around my waist, his smile is soft, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, “You know I enjoy your company as well, darling. I fear I wouldn’t survive without it.” There was some underlying meaning to his words, but before I could inquire further, he pulled me in for a kiss.

I lace my fingers through his ivory curls–his touch melting away all the tension that burdened me only a moment before. His kiss steadily grows hungrier, his tongue slipping between my lips as he sought out my own. He sighs against me as our tongues slide against one another.

All too soon he pulls away, planting small kisses along my jaw and down my throat. The reverence laced in his kisses leave small confessions against my flesh.

“I’m going to turn in early tonight, my dear,” he whispers against my skin in between small kisses.

“Alright,” I whisper shakily, “Are you forgoing dinner tonight?”

His lips halt against my throat and he inhales deeply before pulling away and looking into my eyes with a worried expression, as if internally warring with himself.

“I–no,” he whispers after a moment, tearing his gaze away from me with a guilty expression. My deep-seated curiosity takes hold as I watch a wash of emotions cross his face, “I would like that very much.”

“O-okay,” I whisper suspiciously. 

Before I can ask what burdens him, he pulls me to my tent and patiently waits for me to lie comfortably on my bedroll. What ensues feels less intimate than usual, and more of a formality. I let my questions die on my lips, chalking up his rigidity to the earlier confession he laid at my feet when I had visited him in his tent. I only wished he were comfortable and happy. He laps eagerly at the blood he pulls from my veins, taking his fill.

Once he was finished, he placed reassuring kisses along the puncture wounds that marked my  throat as his. The camp had fallen quiet outside my tent, my companions choosing to rest their weary eyes on this early evening. 

“Do you mind if I linger, until you find rest,” Astarion asks, a glimpse of vulnerability flashes across his sharp features.

“I would love nothing more,” I whisper, relieved. I quickly change into my bedclothes, Astarion’s eyes lingering on my form as I slip into something more comfortable. 

I slide into my bedroll and Astarion pulls me in close, nuzzling his head into the crook of my shoulder. I wrap my arms tightly around him, lazily running my fingers through his silver curls with one hand and tracing words into the cold flesh of his back with the other, careful not to touch his sensitive scars.

“I could stay like this forever,” I admit into his well-manicured curls, his scent comforting me beyond reprieve. 

Astarion lets out a tortured groan and holds me tighter, “Me too,” he finally confesses, “Me too, my love.”

His embrace eventually lulls me into a deep, dreamless slumber. His proximity stirred a deep sense of comfort within me that only reveals itself when he is near. 

I did not feel as he carefully slipped into the night.

Beams of sunlight filter through the tent, bathing me in its gilded illumination. I wipe the sleep from my eyes, rolling over reaching out for Astarion. My hand lands on the empty bedroll. I frown, wishing he had stayed through the night.

Something savory wafts through the air and I can hear the sizzle of meat in a pan over the fire. Even as the inviting aroma assaults my senses, something stirs in the morning air. The camp is unusually quiet. By now, I should hear the excited lilt of Karlach’s voice–she was always a morning person. I should hear Gale delighting in telling stories of Waterdeep. I should hear Lae’zel sharpening her weapons, or Shadowheart reprimanding someone for being too reckless during battle. At the very least I should hear Astarion, his voice dripping with disdain at the breakfast we gorge ourselves on each morning, or the playful complaints of our current accommodations–sleeping in the dirt like commoners when there was a perfectly accommodating establishment in the Lower City. 

Instead, silence creeps through my tent threatening to swallow me whole. Something stirs in the air, reminiscent of the dread I felt last night before Astarion approached me. 

I quickly gather myself before exiting the tent, not even concerned with changing into day clothes. Immediately I see Halsin across camp, whispering to a huddle of companions. Their hushed tones not quite reaching my ears.

“What’s going on,” I immediately felt panic rise in my throat.

All the companions fall silent as they whip their heads towards me. I immediately note Astarion is not among them. But that wasn’t unusual. Their behavior, however, was.

The companions stared at me momentarily before falling into their usual routine ignoring the suspicious glare I sent their way like daggers in their backs.

“Good morning, Tav. You must be famished! Come grab yourself a plate. You look like you need sustenance,” Gale rambles. I watched him carefully but headed towards the fire anyway, the remnants from Astarion’s feeding last night left me feeling light-headed still.

I sit silently as I eat. The companions were careful in my presence, offering me kind words as if to distract me from something. Their diversion was obvious. I leave my food half-finished behind as I stomp towards Halsin. He watches me approach, his face unreadable but his eyes guarded.

“What the hell is going on, Halsin?” I demand, “Why is everyone acting so strangely?” I cock my hip to the side and cross my arms over my chest waiting for an explanation. 

“Nothing slips through the cracks with you, my heart,” he laughs. It doesn’t reach his eyes and I know he is hiding something. 

“Quit stalling, Halsin,” I snap. My temper was burning on a short fuse this morning, and even though I felt bad for snapping at Halsin, who has done nothing but show kindness and patience towards me, he was obviously keeping something from me.

“Perhaps, we should go to your tent and talk,” he places a large hand on the small of my back, but I whip away from him.

“No. We will talk here. Tell me, what is going on?” The camp falls quiet and alerts me that everyone, aside from me, knows what is happening.

Halsin falters, and I look around the camp searching for something out of place. What has made them so worried?

“Tav,” Halsin whispers with careful explication, “Astarion is gone.”

His words envelope me, and I stare in disbelief as they swirl around in my head. “Gone? What does that mean?”

He sighs and refuses to meet my gaze, “He left.”

Darkness threatens to overtake my vision as his words settle in the pit of my stomach like a stone falling to the bottom of a lake.

I spin on my heels and tear through Astarion’s tent. The emptiness that stares back at me feels like a slap in the face. I feel my breath quicken, threatening to send me into overdrive until I’m hyperventilating.

I storm out of his tent, “Where?” I whisper, my fists involuntarily balling at my sides as I try to control the bubbling anger that threatens to spill over into unbridled rage. All I can see is red.

Halsin walks towards me cautiously, the whole company trailing behind him with worried expressions painted across their faces, “My heart–”

“WHERE?” I yell, all patience evaporates from my body.

Halsin quietly pulls a piece of parchment from his pocket and hands it to me slowly. I snatch it and unfold it, scared of what I might read.

I stared at his elegant handwriting, unable to soak in the words that stared back at me. This tells me nothing other than Astarion was gone. He had intentionally left. But for what purpose?

I fold the note and head to my tent, quickly changing into clothes more suitable for travel. I need to take a walk.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

✧*̥˚ Astarion POV *̥˚✧

I spent the first couple of nights quietly scouting out the Szarr palace, watching as guards came and went. I hadn’t seen any of my brothers and sisters since I arrived at my discreet hiding place. I knew the city like the back of my hand, having spent years watching the city grow even when my purpose had stayed the same. 

“Your only purpose is to lure back pretty things for your Master, boy,” Cazador’s words ricochet through my skull, “By any means necessary. Let them use you, gain their trust with your pretty words and face.”

I try to shake the words from my mind, but arriving on his doorstep only heightened the centuries of memories and torment. Long nights chained in the kennels with nothing but dead rats to sate my appetite flit through my mind. The painful bite of the whip as it bit into my flesh. My screams echoing through the palace, feeding the egos of my captors. 

Your screams sound the sweetest.

I knew that returning to this godsforsaken place would be a painful reminder of what once was, but it was more difficult to face alone than I had previously planned. I caught myself on several occasions turning my head, thinking Tav was standing next to me–a habit that I had become more than accustomed to.

I try to shake my thoughts from Tav. I cannot imagine how angry she must be with me. If I dwell on it too long, I will abandon all control and run back to her with pleas of forgiveness falling from my lips.

I checked my inventory one last time, having stockpiled supplies, potions, and weapons. I was ready. I slip in, undetected, having done this thousands of times before–but never with murder on my mind.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

✧*̥˚ Tav POV *̥˚✧

The nights were cold and agonizing. I could not sleep. My mind retraced our last day together. Something in Astarion’s demeanor had shifted after he visited the fortune teller. What had the witch said to him? I was almost certain that was the pivotal moment when things changed. 

The day had gone by in a blur. I stormed from camp and walked through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, searching for a glimpse of my silver-haired vampire. My urges thrummed in my chest and diabolical whispers filled my ears–my anger igniting their hunger.

I interrogated as many people as I could–barkeeps, guards, and merchants. Some required a knife to the throat to cooperate. I was perpetually having to cool my blood and ignore thoughts of maiming during their interrogation. I scared even myself at times. However, no one had captured a glimpse of Astarion. I shouldn’t be surprised; he had perfected the art of slipping undetected through the city streets for centuries.

By the time I returned to camp empty-handed the first night, I was exhausted. Gale tried to push a plate of food in my hands, but I was too high-strung to eat. Halsin was persistent in checking on me as I lay in my tent while I tried to push down the tears that threatened to spill. I was on the precipice of shattering completely.

Then the anger started to settle in. I numbly traced the puncture wounds that marred my neck. The only evidence that Astarion still existed. I was angry at him for leaving. For drinking from my neck and lying with me in my tent before slipping into the night–never to be seen.

I was angry that he left without a clue as to where he was going. I could not help but wonder if he was going to face Cazador. But it didn’t make sense. He was adamant that he needed my help to face his old master. What would push him to go back? I was not sure I wanted to find out.

The yawning breadth of despair sits like a cavern where my heart once beat with elation in his presence. I was not sure how much longer I could entertain thoughts of him pulled back under Cazador’s control. Images of Astarion’s limp body under the Szarr palace plagued my thoughts. What if he had been captured? What if Cazador had sacrificed him and completed the ritual? But why would Astarion willingly stroll back into his own torment? I knew the answer. He wouldn’t. But the witch–she knew something.

After a restless night pacing through camp, I headed out on my own to the Circus of the Last Days, refusing the company of my companions. The witch would divulge what she knew. She was the only lead I had. I would force it from her if I had to.

My heart sank when I saw her tent was absent. The merchants that had sat on either side of her said she had packed her things and left just the day before. I grip the hilt of my dagger, anger surging through my veins as whispers of murder rang in my ears. I knew I was treading a dangerous path. My anger had become untethered, and my murderous nature boiled just below the surface, yearning to break free.

After long hours of wandering the streets, staking out the Szarr palace, and harassing people in the street, I return yet again empty-handed back to camp.

“My heart,” Halsin pulls me into a hug, brushing the hair from my face, “I know you are worried about him. I am too. But you must take care of yourself. You haven’t slept. You haven’t eaten. You are out all day long. Let me care for you.”

The past two days I had been drowning in my own guilt over the way I had snapped at Halsin. But my anger and determination to find Astarion overpowered any rational thought. 

“The thought of living normally… Taking care of myself… feels wrong when he is out there somewhere,” Halsin gently runs his fingers through my tangled hair, trying his best to comfort me. “Why?” I choke, “Why would he leave? I don’t understand.” A tear slips from my eyes, and I can no longer hold back my despair. I cried into Halsin’s shoulder. My sobs echoed through the camp. I didn’t care who witnessed it. 

Halsin continues to comfort me. He helps me slip into my night clothes and brushes my hair, ushering me to put something in my stomach. I nibbled on a small piece of Waterdhavian cheese, but it tasted like ash in my mouth. I realize that all the luxuries of life–all the magic that one could find in the small mundane things, such as the taste of food or the vibrant colors of the city, did not matter if Astarion was not there to experience it with me.

Halsin brewed me some tea, promising that it would help me sleep. He offers to stay with me, but I regrettably turn him away, electing to be alone with my thoughts. With my despair.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

✧*̥˚ Astarion POV *̥˚✧

It was surprisingly easy to clear the main floor of Cazador’s palace. I took special pleasure in killing Godey, one of my main tormentors aside from Cazador. His screams echoed against the kennel walls, his empty threats silenced once and for all. 

I stood in the middle of the kennels trying to regain my composure. The ghosts that once taunted me in this room had been suddenly silenced. Their whispers effectively cut short. I remove the key to the chapel from the pile of bones that had once been Godey and make my way back to the main floor, cutting through all who stood in my path.

The humans that served Cazador in the hopes that they might one day become his spawn whimper pathetically as I slice through them without a second thought. The nocturnal horde that Cazador had amassed was no match for the centuries of rage that I had unleashed. I wore their blood like a badge of honor. A trophy of my revenge. 

But there was only one person whose blood I cared about at this moment–Cazador’s.

I pass through his study until I find the hidden lift that would descend me into hell. I steeled myself, knowing I would come face-to-face with the people whose trust I betrayed. It was one thing to prepare myself to face their inevitable wrath and suffering, but it was entirely different to witness with my own eyes.

Their vermillion glares pierced me from the other side of their gilded cages. I recognized their faces. They did not deserve this. It was all my fault.

Tav’s voice creeps into my mind unbidden, “You had no choice. This isn’t your fault. It’s his.” 

I pull the tarot card from my pocket and stare at the letters, deciphering its hidden meaning. The reminder that Tav was back at camp, hoping that I would return to her arms only strengthened my resolve. This card was meant to serve as a reminder. It reminded me of why I was doing this. It wasn’t for me. It was for us.

“I’m going to kill Cazador and free you all,” my voice was full of resolve. My previous targets stared back at me, unmoving. I don’t expect them to trust me. Not until it was done.

The smell of blood and death reverberated through the air, weighing heavy on my thoughts. I felt its influence on my mind as I traversed deeper into the underground chapel. My thoughts no longer felt like my own. The thrum of power hurtled through the air like static electricity, further warping my mind into something else–something I deeply wanted to avoid.

Finally, I reach the large ornate door leading to the ritual site. I could feel the power hitting me in undulating waves, the smell of death threatening to send me into a violent frenzy.

I take a deep breath, touching the pocket that stowed the tarot card. I let thoughts of Tav give me the strength and bravery that I desperately needed. I finally push open the doors.

“Is it true? Has our prodigal son returned?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

✧*̥˚ Tav POV *̥˚✧

Last night was one of the most difficult. I had not been parted from Astarion this long since our first meeting. Memories of his cool hand tracing lines in my skin, the taste of his lips, the intimate moments we shared with only the moon as a witness addled my mind. Halsin’s tea sat untouched in the corner of my tent. 

I was scared to sleep–scared of the dreams that would play like a reel in my mind. I wasn’t ready to face those quite yet. A part of me still held out hope that he would return, begging to be held in my arms like the last night we spent together. His cool skin comforted me in ways that no one else could supply. I knew I was chasing false hopes.

How could I surge forward, eager to save the world when mine had just been decimated. Selfish thoughts flitted through my mind, wishing all of Faerun could suffer like I was. The thoughts scared me. They were foreign to me–at least the new me. I felt the thorny tendrils of my past life gripping me tightly, seeping through my veins like the poison of a viper. The lonely Bhaalspawn I once was lingering behind the threshold, threatening to break the fragile barrier that I had worked so hard to build.

Astarion made me realize that all she had needed was love–a tender touch. Something to care for. But that had been ripped from my grasp, and the shattered girl I once was slowly began to reveal herself once again.

The camp was active, but I was too depressed to leave my bed. I knew that if I continued to tear apart the city looking for evidence that Astarion still existed would turn up nothing. He had vanished, just as quickly as he had come. 

My eyelids are heavy with exhaustion. My limbs ache from lack of sleep and food. My eyes close against my will, and I fall into a dark slumber filled with dreams of Astarion.

A commotion in camp wakes me from my sleep, images of Baldur’s Gate flooded with blood and viscera rescind from behind my eyes as I try to take hold of my surroundings.

Outside, I hear urgent voices. Shadowheart is yelling out a list of potions and ingredients for healing, “Astarion, stay with us.”

All the lingering effects of sleep drain from my body when I hear his name. I scramble out of my tent, tripping over my own feet. I look up to find Astarion collapsed on the outskirts of our camp, bloodied and bruised.

A strangled cry escapes my lips as I run towards him. No. no. Don’t die.

I’m hovering over Astarion, clasping his hand in mine. His labored breathing is shallow and painful.

“Astarion,” I cry, choking on my own sobs.

His eyes open slowly, and he squeezes my hand weakly, “D-darling. I-I’m terribly sorry,” he sputters before his eyes fall closed again and his arm goes limp.

“Shadowheart,” I cry, panic rising in my throat.

“Let me work,” she murmurs, casting restoration and healing spells, her hands working methodically.

Halsin wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me away. I fight against him, thrashing violently, “No,” I scream.

“Let her work, Tav, she can heal him,” I hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“LET. ME. GO.” I scream, maneuvering out of his grip and falling to my knees beside Astarion. Halsin paces behind me, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to stay calm for my sake. But I can tell he is just as concerned.

“Astarion, please,” I whimper, running a hand through his hair, ignoring the blood that paints his curls red and pink, “Stay with me. Don’t… Don’t leave me again.” 

Shadowheart works throughout the day, patching up any visible wounds and casting spell after spell. Finally, as the sun begins to slip from the sky, she announces that he will be fine. But he has fallen into a deep rest so that his body has time to heal.

I don’t leave his side for three days, counting his breaths and wiping the sweat that dampens his brow. I whisper encouraging words to him when others aren’t around, coaxing him to wake up. All of my anger was abandoned and forgotten. Halsin stayed with us as much as he could, only leaving to eat and sleep.

The third night, Halsin exits the tent to catch up on sleep. The bags under his eyes grow heavier with each passing day. He forces tea into my hands, practically begging me to sleep. I promise that I will try. I give him a soft kiss and whisper apologies for my decorum these past few days. I felt like an awful partner. Halsin waves off my concerns, showing nothing but understanding and kindness. He knew what Astarion meant to me.

I curl up next to Astarion, careful not to touch his wounds. It looked like he had suffered quite a bit. I saw the healing scars of knife wounds. Some looked like he had been stabbed while others were large gashes that marred his body. Even still, large bite marks and burns were scabbing over, only just staring to heal. My thoughts turn over in my head, wondering where he had gone. I felt deep down I already knew the answer.

I gulp down Halsin’s tea and close my eyes, listening to Astarion’s rhythmic breathing until I finally fall asleep. 

I’m not sure how long I was out before I felt him stirring next to me. I hear a grunt as cool arms snake around my waist and pull me close. My eyes spring open and I am met with the most beautiful sight I could pray for.

Astarion’s vermillion eyes stare back at me, something haunting lingers behind them.

“Astarion,” I jump. A mixture of surprise and excitement touches my voice.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pulling me back to his body, “I-I’m so sorry, darling.” 

I watch him as sadness and relief surface in his features. “I have so much to tell you.”

I nuzzle my head into his chest, tears spilling from my eyes, “You need to rest, Astarion,” I say choking back my sobs, “Reserve your energy, please,” I beg, “You can explain later.” I mesh my body with his, not wanting to ever be parted from him again.

He chuckles lightly beside me, his quiet laughter rumbling in his chest. He painfully leans forward to plant a kiss on my head.

“This cannot wait, darling,” he murmurs through painful breaths.

I lift my head to meet his loving gaze.

“Tav–I. I’ve had a lot of time to think. But the only thoughts that occupy my mind are thoughts of you,” he pauses to catch his breath, “You have taken hold of my heart–my soul. There is nothing–nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I–I love you,” he breathes, “and I do not want a future if it does not include you.”

He slowly and painfully pulls a card from the pockets of his bloodied discarded trousers. “You gave me the strength to save myself. I will never forget it.”

I take the card from him and study its blood splattered image. The words The Lovers stare back at me, promising a future that I yearned for more than anything.

“I love you too Astarion,” I breathe after a moment, cradling myself against his body once again, “Don’t ever leave me like that again,” I whisper into his skin, inhaling his familiar scent.

“I promise,” he whispers before falling back into a deep sleep. His breathing slows to a steady rhythm.

And for a moment, I swear I could hear the soft beating of his heart.

[jellymellydraws]

Beautiful Scars

Summary: Rose (Durge) feels insecure about her mysterious scars. Astarion wants to reassure her that she has nothing to worry about.

Pairing: Astarion x femme!Durge (can work with Tav, but the scars are Durge lore specific)

Warnings: 18+ (suggestive, edging on explicit), bodily scars (slight TW for body image) Topless kissing

Word Count: 900

Their lips pushed against each other hungrily. He let her tongue slip in, dancing with his as they moaned softly. She ran her hands up his chest, tugging at the fabric in her way. A low groan left her as he pulled away, teasing her neck with kisses but refusing to let her hands succeed in their mission. He enjoyed denying her when she got greedy, she knew it.

Shivers ran down her back as he kissed along her neck, moving down towards her chest. Unfairly, he slipped his hand under her shirt. His fingers ran along the marred terrain of her flesh, taking her shirt with them. She let him, until a flash of her own bare reflection haunted her mind.

She pulled her hands off him, gripping the leftover fabric of her sleeves before he could fully bare her chest. Fuck, she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Quickly putting a smirk on her face, she tried to coyly kiss him. As if playing a game.

That would work on anyone, except him.

“Something wrong, my sweet?” He pulled his lips away, much to her protest, and leaned his forehead against hers.

‘Nothing,” she lied, leaning up to press a soft peck on his lips.

“Then why are you stopping me?” His hand rubbed down her arms, stopping at the bundle of shirt she used to shield herself, “you’re hiding from me.”

“No!” Her face turned red, answering much too quickly. Too defensive. A hurt expression crossed his features. Defeated, she leaned into the crook of his neck, “it’s not you…”

She didn’t have enough hands to hide all the marks that raised from her skin. Gods she hated this. Why tonight did she have to obsess over her scars? Why couldn’t she put them to the back of her mind, just as she did every other uncomfortable half-memory that bubbled its way to the surface?

He tilted her face to look at her. Those piercing eyes studied her face. Just as he always did when she became quiet around him. He wouldn’t let her retreat into the shadows, no matter how much she wished she could run.

“I might be feeling a bit…weird, about my scars,” she admitted, “if they were battle wounds, it’d be different. But I just…something about these feel wrong.”

“Hm…and so you want to hide them?”

She nodded.

“Sadly, they’re all over you, and hiding them is stopping me from— how is it that Aylin puts it?” He tilted her head, giving him the perfect angle to whisper into her ear “Adoring you.”

A soft gasp escaped her lips, and another shiver ran through her. Gods he knew exactly what to say to her. She continued tilting her head, exposing her neck to him. He smirked as he kissed down her jaw, gently pressing his lips against her neck.

“Let me see you, darling,” he cooed, trailing the tips of his fingers from collarbone to shoulder, “I want to indulge in all of you.”

As he kissed towards her chest, she let him lay her down. Goosebumps raised from her skin when the coolness of his flesh met the warmth of hers. She relinquished her shirt, interlocking her fingers with his as he moved them aside. Her other hand continued to grip her shirt, but no longer obstructed his view. Her heart raced as he hovered over the scar between her chest. Despite how much she loved his touch, her nerves wanted to prevail. He stopped, giving her a look for approval. She was terrified, almost shaking.

But he’s been good to her.

Safe.

Sweet.

She nodded, hesitantly, then leaned back as he worked.

Astarion kissed along the long scar. Slowly. Lovingly.

A hand to cup her breast, squeezing a soft moan from her. But his lips wouldn’t wander from the trail. His other arm snaked around her, pulling her close when his kisses reached the bottom of her ribs. Another scar crossed her navel, one he took his time with. Gradually, she relaxed in his hold. The tense grip she had on her shirt moved to gently caress his curls. His hum of approval tickled her.

He moaned into her flesh. She could tell he was holding himself back, restraining a more lustful kiss. What he was doing was deliberate. He wanted to take his time. To make her feel how much he wanted her. All of her.

Nothing mattered except how he made her feel. How he glanced up at her with a mischievous smile, brushing his fangs against the unscathed plot of stomach. Pressing more kisses along the jagged lines. It was as if they weren’t there, and yet it was all he focused on. Healed incisions from a time she can barely recall. A perfectly marked map that his lips followed like an experienced adventurer. She propped herself on her elbows to watch him.

He hovered over the edge of her trousers, taking their edge between his teeth. By this point she realized her breathes quickened. Ah, but he wouldn’t give so easily. Not when he promised to adore her. He chuckled, looking at the state he put her in.

“You’re a vision, my sweet,” he whispered, planting another soft, gentle kiss, “scars and all.”

[bloodsuckingfiends]

Astarion who hugs you close to him, cheek resting on the top of your head, when he’s feeling particularly anxious or dissociative. Holding YOU, rather than the other way around comforts him for the fact that he’s not the one being restricted or held down, which sends his mind back to pre-tadpole times. Holding you to him is grounding, holds him in the present where he is safe, and loved, and cared for beyond his own belief.

[dragonsfictavern]

Reminiscent Nightmares

Astarion Ancunin x Durge!Reader

a/n: I am consumed with soft wordless sex. Total physical communication showcasing a couples intimate knowledge of each other. I love I love I love.

summary: After a nightmare of past pains you’ve inflicted, Astarion is right there to comfort you. While you feel as though you can’t talk about it, Astarion will be there for you in other ways until you can. He will always be there for you.

warning: MDNI +18 make outs, groping, soft p in v sex, clitoral stimulation. Nice and simple.

word count: 2K

Your brows furrow, shaking your head, even as you lay in a deep sleep. Squirming around in your bed a whimper escapes you as visions— no memories, whirl through your mind in a torturous loop. Pools of blood come in waves, crashing against the walls and flooding the vision of your dream. Endless faces pass the view of your eye, being presented with them all before they fall off to the side and another takes its place.

Kill after kill you’re reminded of every single one. Your mind not allowing you to forget about a second of the pain you inflicted on others. An unending stream of the damage you caused and the torture you brought upon others. All of it now coming back to you.

By the time you’ve gone through them all, you’re whimpering, tears streaming down your cheeks even though you remain asleep. Just when you think it’s over, when all is done, when you’ll finally be able to gain some release… one more head slowly floats through the river of blood.

The head slowly comes to a stop and the face that greets you is none other than Astarion’s.

You scream and a second later Astarion is shaking you awake. Your eyes shoot open and scatter around as you try and take in your surroundings, your breath is heavy with panic, and you can’t stop squirming as you feel your skin crawl. The idea of Astarion being gone, and worse by your hand, haunts your every waking thought.

When Astarion gently cups your jaw, bringing your gaze to his, you cry out at the sight of him, more tears streaming down your cheek. Astarion shakes his head, quietly shushing you in hopes to calm you down. Your tears seem unable to stop as your eyes move over his every beautiful feature. Your hands reach up, taking his face in your hold. Thumbs rubbing over smooth cheeks. You feel him. He is here. He is unharmed.

Your eyes catch onto your hands and you know that he is safe. He is safe in your embrace. You aren’t like that anymore. You don’t do those things anymore. Neither of you do. Ever since everything ended and you’ve both settled into your new lives in Baldur’s Gate. You would never hurt him, not then nor now. While there were some close calls you have full control. You’re positive.

Nothing will ever harm him. Not you or anyone. You two will spend your days protecting each other from whatever threat may come your way. You’re a team. You continue rotating through those thoughts, filling your mind with them as you inhale and exhale deeply, meeting Astarion’s worried gaze once more. His free arm moves around your waist and he brings you impossibly closer. The feeling of his body against yours furthers your comfort.

With time you eventually calm down, your breath slowing down and the panic dissipating. When fully relaxed against his body, Astarion’s eyes furrow in a silent question. You blink back, not wanting to even think about it right now. Not wanting to think about anything. So you lightly shake your head at him and his features drop just as quickly as his question, understanding you immediately.

Instead he uses his hold in your jaw to gently guide your lips to his, continuing to provide you with closeness and comfort. You inhale sharply through your nose as your lips collide. A small moan escapes you as you lean into his touch, lips simply connecting for a moment. But you both easily fall into a gentle rhythm as your lips caress each other lovingly.

Astarion’s hand slides into your hair and he uses it to pull you in closer, groaning as his mouth devours yours. Both of you quickly become swept up in the easy dance of your mouth’s movements. You whimper, everything Astarion being the only thing you can focus on. The only thing you can think about.

When he slowly brings you back down on the bed, hand on the back of your head for extra cushion, you moan again, flicking your tongue along the seam of his lips. Astarion rolls on top of you, legs cradling your hips as he opens his mouth to you. You both grin as you take turns teasing each other with your tongues. His actions meant to distract and comfort and you weren’t ashamed to say they were working.

Astarion slowly works to undress you both, taking his time, savoring the taste of your tongue on his. Only separating when you have to and then his lips are crashing back down on yours. You moan, softly pulling him down once he’s finished, your body shuddering to feel his cold skin brush along the heat of yours. The contrast sending sparks up your spine.

Your body arches into his as you feel his hand slowly making its way down your form. The sensation of his mouth and hands continuing to drive all worrying thoughts out of your head. Astarion takes his time with you, wanting to feel every groove and curve that makes up your body. His hand slips between you both once he reaches your hips.

A hiss escapes him and you feel his breath ghost across your face. Your brows furrow and you whimper, hips jolting up, knowing his next movements precisely. A moment later you feel the crown of his cock parting your folds. Your eyes snap open only to meet Astarion already looking down at you. A soft expression on his face as he gages your reactions, always making sure you’re ok. You do the same, reaching a hand to touch his cheek. You bring his forehead to rest against yours, taking a moment to connect with him emotionally.

You gasp as he teases the hole of your sex and your heart skips a beat at the slight quirk of his mouth. Which only grows wider once he hears the way your pulse instinctively reacts to him. Your moans rip through the silence as Astarion pushes inside of you with ease. Your eyelids drop as you let out a whine, the feeling of him entering you has your body filling with warmth.

Astarion easily moves straight into a languid pace, his length gliding through your wet heat as he works you open, stuffing you full of him. Your hands slide into his hair, foreheads remaining connected as he thrusts inside you. Both of you maintaining eye contact. The intensity of emotion in his gaze takes your breath away. He wants to be here for you. To look after you. And though you may not be ready to talk, he is right here to comfort you.

Your nose nuzzles against his in a silence appreciation, your chest blooming with even more love and devotion for this man. Astarion grunts, a low rumble in his chest at your sign of affection, before picking up his pace only slightly. You sigh at the feeling of his cock massaging your walls, head falling back slightly as hips roll into yours. Soon your body falls into rhythm with his, pushing back against every pump into your core.

A soft cry leaves you as he hits your G-spot. Arms tightening around him, you’re desperate to feel him close. Astarion’s hands squeeze at your waist while his cock leisurely pumps its way inside you. He nips at your jaw gently, wanting your attention back on him. Your breath stutters as your hips meet once again in a quiet smack. Tilting your head up you meet his gaze and his lips are immediately connecting with yours, causing you to groan.

Heat swirls at the bottom of your belly as you feel your orgasm begin to grow. Your hands softly play with Astarion’s curls as you kiss. Your lips moving in tandem with the steady rhythm of his pulsing length. The feeling sends your heart racing and your skin tingling. An easy passion falls over you both like a thick cloud, blocking away the rest of the world and all that remains of you and Astarion.

You whimper against his lips, mind growing hazy as you’re lulled by his soft lips and the occasional nip of his fangs. Your nerves are on fire, your entire body prickling over as you savor each time he fills you. With the building pressure within you, you know you’re getting closer and closer to your climax. Astarion groans, feeling the way your muscles tense underneath him, feeling how your body radiates heat those moves through him and drives him with a need he’s only ever truly felt with you.

His hands caress your thighs, soothing out the slight twitching occurring as you find yourself just on the edge. Then a hand is moving to the apex of your thighs, his diligent fingers quickly finding your clit. Your jaw drops slightly and he uses this to his advantage, tongue slipping into your mouth to brush along yours. Your body jolts into his touch and you melt against the slow circles applied to your bundle of nerves.

It only takes a few more soothing strokes before your walls are fluttering around his cock and you’re falling off the edge, your release coating his cock. You moan loudly and Astarion swallows it all down, mouth latching down on your tongue and sucking lightly. Your body shudders in response, making the slight shaking of your body all the more worse as your orgasm moves through you in gripping shockwaves.

You clench down on Astarion, not even aware of your actions as your release consumes you. Astarion grunts, his stomach clenching and with a few stuttering thrusts, he sinks down inside you before spilling himself. Your eyes roll back into your head and you gently grind against him, milking him for every last drop.

Both of you rock into each other slowly, helping each other ride out your highs. Your kisses grow lazy, mouths smacking together, unable to stay away for longer than a few moments. Your eyes flutter as you desperately try and stay awake. Astarion watches you, his own eyes half-lidded, a storm of powerful emotions brewing in the depths of his red gaze. Yet you don’t back away from it, instead lulled into its embrace.

Astarion rolls you both onto your sides once you’ve both calmed down. He keeps you connected as he draws you tight against his chest. You breathe deeply, your body relaxed, contentment now coursing through you as you lay in Astarion’s arms. Both of you protected. Both of you safe. You slowly begin to fall asleep, grateful for your love and the way he flawlessly has come to understand you.

A moment later you feel a hand rest on the back of your head and your body jolts a bit, the touch waking you up more. Astarion shushes you gently, leaning in to press calming kisses across your brow. You hum and snuggle back in closer to him, accepting every kind of comfort he’s been giving you since your dream rousted you two up. It was only when he started to kiss your forehead did you realize you still remain partially tense. But with his lips on your skin your body completely melts into his and you fall into a dreamless sleep without issue.

Astarion stays by your side, not wanting to get up or move away from you. Watching over you as you rest and hoping the night passes by without anything else waking you. He knows you will talk to him once the morning comes. Share your concerns and let him be there for you in that way as well. He will always be there for you so long as you wish him and doesn’t mind having to prove so. Looking down at you and thinking this all through, he can’t help but lean in and nuzzle into your hair. He closes his eyes, for even if he won’t really sleep, he’ll bask in the act if it means lying with you.

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

When Gods Listen

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x female!Durge/reader

Summary: Astarion is hit by a memory spell mid-combat. You fear what will happen to him, but Astarion only knows he woke with the answer to his prayers looking down at him.

Word Count: 6,162 words

Warnings: post Astarion's first romance scene, descriptions of battle, Astarion's past, typical Durge thoughts, temporary memory loss, temporary amnesia, Gale being helpful, vampire feeding, a cliche 'oh. oh.' moment, kissing, unspoken confession

Note: Reader is based on my drow half-ef Durge, Nixu, but remains from the second-person perspective with only brief & vague mention of her appearance. My first time writing Durge (resisting), so let me know what you think!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

How long had you been fighting? Ten minutes? An hour? Gods, you didn't know. You couldn't focus on anything other than the weapon in your hand, the number of arrows in your quiver, and the spells you had prepared. Letting your focus stray to your companions had already cost you, proven by the blood running down your arm and the claws that had torn your pants to shreds.

Need new armor, you thought as you slammed a dagger into a goblin's throat. The creature gurgled and clawed at your hands, leaving behind red scratches, until you yanked out the blade. The goblin fell to the blood-soaked ground with a wet thud.

Shadowheart screamed behind you. You heard the snarl of a wolf and turned to find one lunging for her, the cleric frozen in fear. You reached for your bow; Gale was faster, sending a Fire Bolt at the wolf. It snarled and turned on Gale.

You strung an arrow to your bow. You had four left, including this one. Your shot would have to be incredibly precise if you didn't want to get any closer to the wolf; you didn't have enough arrows for do-overs.

Taking aim, you drew back your string, taking a deep breath. Easy does it, you told yourself.

The wolf's body tensed. It sat back on its haunches, ready to lunge for Gale. He was in the middle of preparing a spell; it wouldn't be ready by the time the wolf's jaws were around his throat.

An arrow flew directly into the wolf's jugular. You blinked. Had you loosed your arrow? No. It remained in your fingers, notched to your bowstring.

Your eyes sought out the arrow's source and landed on a pair of red eyes creeping out of the shadows. Astarion slipped out of hiding, his face stony. He held his own bow. He stared down the wolf until it collapsed with a pitiful whine.

Both Gale and Shadowheart turned to other enemies, knives flashing and spells meeting their targets.

There was a horrid howl from somewhere on the battlefield. You whirled toward the sound and found an irate human hurrying down the rocky hill. You guessed the howl had been the wolf's name, then, and this was its owner.

"Astarion!" you shouted. "Behind you!" You pointed in the direction of the approaching human—a wizard, by the looks of her.

Astarion turned and dropped into a crouch. She began summoning a spell; you recognized it as a memory spell. Temporary, but all-encompassing. Before Astarion could hide, the spell hit him square in the chest.

Dread coiled in your stomach. Astarion stumbled backwards, a hand coming to touch his chest. Then his body went rigid. You weren't close enough to see it, but you knew his eyes had glazed over.

Astarion glanced around, clearly confused as to how he had ended up in a battle.

"Shit," you muttered.

He'd be easy to kill in this state, you thought. All too easy to stab in the brain and watch the blood run into his eyes. Ugly desire curled through your stomach, a desperate need to gut him from the inside out settling in your chest.

You blinked and the urge was gone. You glanced around you, expecting your butler, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Gods, why can't the urges be something simple, like wanting him whimpering beneath me again?

You started toward Astarion. Goblins swarmed you. You cast a poison spray across them and cut them down as quickly as you could. You looked up to find the wizard whispering in Astarion's ear. He turned toward Gale and Shadowheart, expressed pulled into confusion.

A goblin clawed at you, trying to climb your legs. You shook it off and slammed your knee into its face. You looked up again and found Astarion with an arrow pointed at Shadowheart's back. You shouted a warning.

"What the hells is he doing?!" she shouted.

Gale frowned at Astarion. "Amnesia," he said. "She messed with his memory."

All eyes widened in horror as the woman gave Astarion an order: "Kill." He loosed his arrow and Shadowheart just narrowly dodged it. Astarion readied another.

"He's under her command," Gale said.

You jumped to a higher vantage point. "Can we stop the spell?"

"Not the memory spell, that will take time to fade," he reasoned, "but if we kill her, she can't command him to kill us."

"Great," you said. "Now I have a plan."

The wizard shrieked with laughter. She turned around, her hands spread, a sneer on her face. "You'll never kill me," she snarled. "I'm far more powerful than—"

She fell with a thud, your arrow buried in her heart. You jumped to the ground and looked down at her where she lay, gurgling and glaring at you. You cocked your head. "You should know better than to expose yourself to attack, wizard. Now I will make your head a statement piece."

Without thinking, you drew your knife. Yet you froze when you heard Gale give a shout. You looked up and found an arrow—one of Astarion's—in his shoulder. The wizard could make no more orders, but her last command was still standing. He was still attacking the others.

"No time for that now," you said to the corpse. You left it where it lay and ran toward Astarion. As you got closer, you realized he looked incredibly confused about having shot Gale.

Gravel crunched under your feet, sliding out from underneath you. You slipped to a halt in front of him. "Astarion? You okay?"

He flinched as your hand came to rest on his shoulder. He shrugged off your touch. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"I'm..." The words died on your lips. What were the two of you? Gods knew there wasn't really a label for whatever it was the two of you had. Would he even believe it if you tried to explain it, while the memory spell lasted? "I'm your friend. We met on the road. We stuck together with Gale and Shadowheart here and the others back at camp to get rid of the tadpoles."

Astarion looked at you, studying you with a gaze as guarded as it had been when you'd first met him. "I don't..."

"You've been hit by a memory spell, a very powerful one," you told him, resisting the urge to grab his hand. "It's given you temporary amnesia."

"Why are we fighting?" he rasped. "I... I don't know who to... She told me to fight you." He glanced back at the body. He seemed to be panicking a little now. "But then you killed her and now I... I don't want to kill you anymore."

"You don't have to," you promised. "You don't have kill us, Astarion, we're your friends."

"No, not them," he said. "Just you."

He raised his bow, an arrow already prepared and aimed for Gale's heart. You grabbed the bow, wrenching it from his hands and throwing it to the ground. He growled, deep and animalistic. His eyes flashed a brighter red and his lip pulled back from his fangs. They dripped with saliva.

Such a pretty monster, you thought. It will be a shame to rip out his heart.

But you didn't follow your urge. Instead, you slammed the pommel of your dagger into the side of his head. His eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to the ground.

Gale shouted at you, utterly horrified. "What was that for?"

"He was going to kill you," you said. "I don't think there's anything we could have said that would stop him." You glared across the battlefield. "Let's deal with the rest of this and get him back to camp."

Shadowheart yanked the arrow out of Gale's shoulder and healed him quickly. You watched his skin knit back together with a strange fascination that tingled beneath your own skin, like you'd felt it before...

The rest of the goblins and wolves felt like they took no time at all. You were aware, of course, that your sense of time was disrupted by your worry; every so often, you cast a look toward Astarion's crumpled body, passed out but corpse-like for his lack of breathing. A discomforting desire shuddered through you at the sight.

He is my friend, you told the need in your gut that told you to kill him twice over. He trusts me. I will not hurt him.

Yet you weren't so sure you could trust yourself to keep that promise.

When enemies finally stopped swarming, you went back to the wizard's corpse. You dug through her pockets for anything useful. You found several amulets imbued with powerful magic and plenty of scrolls. You took her weapons without much thought; you could inspect them later, but you had more important matters to begin with.

"Is he alright?" Gale asked as you knelt beside Astarion.

"He should be," you said. "I didn't hit him that hard."

"Something tells me he won't be too pleased about that when he wakes up," Shadowheart said.

"If he remembers it, that is," Gale said. The wizard sounded the most worried you'd ever heard him. "That was a powerful memory adjustment spell."

You frowned. "It is temporary, isn't it?"

"I certainly hope so. For his sake and for ours," Gale replied. "Here. Let's get him back to camp. It's too dangerous to continue on with him like this."

Gale cast a levitation spell and Astarion's body rose. His face was obscenely peaceful and it dawned on you just how tortured he usually looked when he tranced. You cocked your head, wondering just how deep that memory spell was going.

A hand fell on your arm. "Is everything alright?" Shadowheart asked.

"I'm fine," you said. "Just thinking." You cleared your throat, tearing your eyes away from Astarion's slack face. "Come on. We've got a lot of ground to cover, and not a lot of daylight left."

~❊~

Astarion felt like he was...swimming? Maybe. Everything was fuzzy. His mind felt bizarrely empty and way too full at the same time. He saw nothing through his heavy, closed eyelids. Try as he might, he couldn't get them to open.

A sense of urgency was sitting in his chest. He had something to do, didn't he? He'd been...

The feeling of whatever it was, of holding something light and curved, of pulling his arm back and letting go, disappeared back into the murk.

Frustration bloomed in Astarion's mind. What was going on? Was this a trick of Cazador's?

Oh, there! That was...something. A person? Yes, an unpleasant person. Someone he was rather upset to have remembered, even if it meant at least there was something in this useless head of his.

A vile taste filled Astarion's mouth, like rat's blood and salty bodily fluids. Somehow, Astarion knew it was because of the person he despised so completely. Yet how?

Sudden hunger curled through Astarion's stomach. He groaned, clutching at his stomach. I have to hunt, he thought, but he still couldn't get his eyes open. Trying only pushed him further into the thick, liquid blackness that surrounded him.

Help, Astarion tried to say. His mouth remained closed. Someone help, someone get me out of here. Gods, please, get me out!

The silence of his mind answered him.

Astarion whimpered, curling into a ball. I'm so hungry, Master, he whined, but only one rough word came out, nearly lost in his throat. Once again, he was dragged back into darkness.

~❊~

"Astarion's not doing so hot."

Karlach's voice roused you from the thoughts swimming in your head. You sat back on your haunches, somewhat surprised to see the weapons you'd been sorting through from today's battles still in front of you in a heap. Had you gotten so lost in your thoughts you'd stopped working?

Never mind that, tend to the pretty corpse, you told yourself. You stood up, ignoring the saliva gathering on your tongue. "How so?"

"He's tossing and turning, groaning in his sleep," she said, chewing on her nails, glancing in the direction of the trancing elf.

"I'll check on him," you said.

You walked across camp toward Astarion's tent. When you'd gotten back to camp, Shadowheart had thought it wisest to keep him in view of everyone, just in case something went wrong, so Astarion currently lay on your own bedroll in front of his tent.

You could see Astarion's sleep had become fitful. He had tossed and turned so much that he'd thrown off the blanket he took everywhere that you'd put over him. His hair was beyond messy. His eyebrows were pinched together and he was panting unnecessarily.

A soft groan slipped past his lips as he rolled to one side, desperately hugging his arms to his stomach. You cocked your head. Was his hunger causing him to stir?

"At least we know I didn't kill him knocking him out," you said.

Karlach opened her mouth but was interrupted by Astarion's whimper. The two of you both looked at him again, concerned. "Master," he rasped.

Your body stiffened. You had a sudden need to keep Karlach away, sure these babblings were not something Astarion would want anyone to hear.

Why are you not also leaving him be? you asked yourself. You decided against answering that question.

"I'll keep an eye on him," you promised her.

Karlach gave you a curious look, then nodded. She turned away and headed back across camp.

You sat down beside Astarion. You peered down at him, his face fixed into an expression of pain.

Poor creature, you thought.

Astarion gave another whine of hunger, curling into the fetal position. Your own face pinched into an expression of sympathy. You took your dagger from its sheath and pricked your finger on it. With your free hand, you held open Astarion's mouth, then hovered your bleeding finger over it.

Achingly slowly, the blood dripped into Astarion's mouth.

~❊~

Food.

A sharp, iron tang filled his senses. He could smell it, so close he was sure if he could just convince his body to move through the sluggish black around him that he would be able to taste it—

Blood hit his tongue, the taste of a single droplet bringing saliva that coated his jaws. Another drop followed. One after the other, droplets of blood collected on his tongue. Somehow, he found it within himself to swallow.

Astarion knew this blood. The taste was oddly familiar, though it wasn't part of his regular diet. No, this was not the blood of bugs and rats—this was the blood of a thinking creature. One he'd feasted from before.

Master will torture me for this, he thought. Master will write more poetry on my skin.

But Astarion no longer found it in him to care. As more blood dripped into his mouth, he swallowed it down with enthusiasm.

Strength returned to his limbs. The hunger that plagued him constantly began to subside, easing into something bearable. Old aches and pains disappeared.

There you go, Astarion, a female voice said. She sounded close—and worried. Just drink. It will help.

Astarion obeyed on instinct. He knew this voice. It was uncannily familiar, the kind of voice he'd listen to for hours just to keep hearing it. Yet...where had he heard it? Was this a victim, coming back to haunt his memories? It certainly wasn't one of his sisters...

With a full belly, restlessness took over. Astarion quickly grew bored of the dark surrounding him. He shifted, the movement slowly bringing him back into his body. He huffed impatiently.

Are you coming back to me? the voice asked, accompanied by a soft touch on his cheek. A brief moment of silence followed, then— You're scaring the others, Little Star.

Astarion tensed. That name. No one called him that. His siblings knew better and his victims never got close enough, so...

A hand slipped into his hair. Panic took over. Astarion's scalp tingled. He anticipated pain to follow.

Something within him snapped—

~❊~

Astarion's eyes opened the same time the thread within him grew too taut. He lurched upward, a snarl on his lips. He bared his teeth, prepared to rip out the throat of whomever had touched him—

"Easy!" It was the same voice. The hand left his hair and pushed him back to the ground. A figure appeared over him. "It's just me!"

The voice stopped him. Astarion let himself be pushed back down—surprisingly gently, with only one hand on his shoulder. He focused on the figure above him and slowly your features come into focus.

You're...beautiful. Your hair has been pulled out of the way, leaving the concern and worry on your face clear to his eyes. Your eyes were wide, but you didn't seem to be afraid of him. In fact, the look on your face suggested you know his dangers all too well.

You were the answer to every prayer he'd always been too scared to voice.

Slowly, Astarion relaxed. You looked instantly relieved.

"It's me," you said again, calmer now. "Do you remember me yet?"

You lifted your hand to his cheek. Astarion could smell the blood on it—the same blood he'd just tasted. He turned toward it and saw the small slice in your finger.

"You fed me?" he asked.

You nodded. "Of course I did, Astarion."

Astarion flinched. "How do you know my name?"

Disappointment flickered in your eyes. "I'll take that as a no," you sighed. Only then did Astarion realize you'd asked him a question. "We travel together, Star. With our friends. So that we can get the tadpoles out of our heads?" You spoke slowly, trying to give him time to catch up.

But Astarion didn't recognize anything—except for the smell of your blood, which seemed so innate to him, beyond the taste of it on his tongue.

"I— I'm sorry, I don't know," he whispered.

"Nothing sounds familiar?" you asked. When he shook his head again, your disappointment showed on your face for a moment. You hid it quickly with your next breath, but Astarion saw it. "That's alright. It'll come back to you."

Fear suddenly wrapped its claws around his heart. "Will it?"

"Yes," you said firmly. "It will. I promise, Star." You took his hand in yours and squeezed gently. "And I'll be with you until you do remember."

A thousand questions swirled in his mind. Who were you? What had he done to deserve your kindness? How could you be so certain that he would recover?

Deep in his heart, he wondered if he even wanted to recover. The bits and pieces floating around inside his head... They were not pleasant. And yet, all he could think to ask was, "Why?"

You smiled softly at him, almost regretfully. You were silent for a long time, avoiding his gaze. Your hair just barely covered your eyes; Astarion could not make out your expression. At last, you raised your head toward him. "If you were in your right mind, you'd know." The muscle in your jaw feathered. In a hushed voice, you added, "Honestly, that scares me more than this."

Astarion's eyes narrowed. He felt like he was missing something, something obvious. You were hiding something, but he couldn't fathom what or why...

You turned away from his intense, questioning gaze. "Rest. I'll be here when you wake up." You pulled a knife from its sheath on your boot and a rag from your pocket. You began polishing it.

Astarion watched you for some time, entranced by the methodic way you cleaned your weapons, pausing to inspect the shine of the blade. It did not take long for the drowsy blackness to seep into the edges of his consciousness, taking over with every blink. Soon, there was nothing left but...

~❊~

You weren't entirely certain when Astarion had dozed off, just that you had suddenly felt the loss of his gaze. You glanced at him, his body still on your bedroll.

A few moments passed while you watched him. Once you were certain he was deep in his trance, you left his side to collect a handful of herbs and a water flask.

You measured out the herbs and tied them off in a mesh pouch. You steeped them in the cold water and watched the color change achingly slowly. Only when it had reached a greenish-yellow color did you gently reopen the bloody spot on your finger, hissing as the skin split again, and let your blood drip into the mixture.

You stared down at it, watching the blood sink to the bottom of the bowl. The herbs, meant to help improve memory, ought to do something for his memory loss... Or so you hoped.

With Astarion still trancing, you left the herbs to steep. You returned to your own tent briefly to retrieve a book to read while you waited for him to wake.

The evening passed surprisingly slowly. You got through several chapters before you were interrupted by a gentle tap on your shoulder. You looked up to find Gale offering you a plate of food.

"Thank you, Gale," you said, accepting it after you'd put your book down. "How's the arm?"

"You're welcome. All healed up, thanks to Shadowheart," he said. He glanced at your mixture. "Is that for Astarion?"

You nodded. "It's a bunch of herbs to help improve memory. I was thinking it might speed up the 'temporary' part of the wizard's spell."

He thought for a moment. "I have a few spells that might help," he said. "Pass me the bowl."

You did so and watched curiously as Gale muttered a few quiet incantations over the mixture. When he passed the bowl back to you, the water faintly glowed lavender.

"That should help," he said.

"What did you do?" you asked, frowning. You hadn't recognized any of his mutterings.

Gale bit back a smile. "Those spells should increase the herbs' potency. It will strengthen the potion, and our elf's ability to retain his memory."

For a moment, you just stared at him. Then you said, "You have to teach me those spells."

Gale smiled. "Anytime," he promised. He nodded to the plate he'd given you. "Eat. You need your strength, too."

You nodded and ate quickly. Astarion shifted in his trance, mumbling quietly. You glanced at him and heaved a sigh when you realized he was, once again, clutching his stomach.

"You are a pain to feed when you can't bite me," you said to him before once again opening your finger and letting your blood drip into his mouth. Yet you weren't nearly as annoyed as you sounded; you honestly didn't mind caring for the elf. Gods knew he deserved it.

You returned to your book until night fell. The others came to check on you and Astarion before they retired. Wyll put out the campfire and you looked at the vampire still knocked out on your bedroll.

"Guess we're sharing again," you murmured to him and wriggled into your bedroll. You got cozy, comforted by his presence, despite everything. You rolled to put your back to him, but whispered over your shoulder, "Good night, Astarion."

~❊~

Astarion woke up very suddenly, a scream in his throat. He covered his mouth with a hand before it could come out. He lay that way for several moments, trying to calm the sense of panic in him from yet another nightmare of his master, before he realized he was not in his tent. Or any tent.

His head rolled to the right, toward the heat next to him and the scent of you. You had curled up beside him, your back to him, some distance between the two of you. For some reason, his heart sank. Why hadn't you cuddled up close to him?

Bits and pieces of memory hit him with a pounding headache: something slamming into his chest, loosing an arrow from his bow into Gale's shoulder, waking up and lunging for you, watching you sharpen your knives...

Gods, what had happened over the past few days. When had they left that battlefield?

Astarion glanced at your sleeping form again. A deep ache sat in his chest; he wanted... Gods, did he really? He wanted to hold you. He wanted you in his arms.

For her heat, he told himself as he rolled onto his side and closer to you, draping his arm over your middle. He ignored the fact that his explanation did not cover the little kiss he pressed to the nape of your neck.

You stirred in your sleep. "Little Star?" you murmured, pushing back against his chest.

"Don't wake up," he murmured. "I'm here."

He watched a sweet, sleepy smile cross your face. "It worked," you mumbled. You hand came up to slide into his and squeeze gently.

Astarion frowned. "What worked?"

You rolled to face him, even though your eyes remained closed. "I'll tell you in the morning," you said. You yawned and nuzzled your face in his chest, apparently happy to hide in the fabric of his shirt and his scent. You hummed. "My pretty little death."

There you were with your strange little sayings. Astarion raised his eyebrow, assuming you'd caught a whiff of his (albeit faint) odor of death. "Do I need more perfume?"

"No," you said, quite adamantly. "Smells good."

Astarion bit back a giddy, boyish smile. "If you say so." He put his hand into your hair, fingers scratching your scalp gently. You hummed contentedly and, within seconds, fell back asleep against him.

He wrapped his other arm around you as well, pressing you close to him. A twinge of hunger passed through him, but he ignored it; while you had told him plenty of times he could feed while you slept, he'd rather wait until the morning than risk waking you again.

Too alert to fall back to sleep, Astarion looked down at you. He brushed a few strands of your hair from your face, reveling in the softness of your hair and skin. He brushed his thumb across your cheekbone, content to admire you until his eyes got tired of you. Truthfully, he wasn't sure that day would ever come.

"Oh, you," he murmured. He kissed the top of your head and you lifted your head toward him while you slept, turning your face toward him. Like a sunflower seeking the sun, he thought, a very old distant memory surfacing—his tiny hand in a bigger one, belonging to someone telling him to look at the big yellow flowers in front of him...

He was your sun. And you were...his.

Something in his chest stirred. It wasn't quite a heartbeat, but it was very close: a fluttering in his heart, truly awakening for the first time. A shuddering breath escaped Astarion's lips.

Oh.

Through the fuzz of the past few hours, Astarion dimly remembered you smiling at him, soft and sad and unsure, sorrow in your voice as you said, If you were in your right mind, you'd know. Honestly, that scares me more than this.

And Astarion did know. He did.

Oh.

"My darling," Astarion murmured, shifting to curl his body around yours. You responded in your sleep, clinging tightly to him. He kissed your cheek and then rested his head against yours, watching the sky and patiently waiting for the sun to rise.

For the first time in two hundred years, the gods had finally listened.

~❊~

Your body registered the warmth of the sun before you fully woke. It spread through you, spreading a lazy comfort through you. You slipped between peaceful sleep and fuzzy wakefulness for some time before lips roused you completely.

Tiny kisses covered your cheeks and nose. A hand cupped your cheek. "Wake up, my love," a soft voice said. Your heart warmed and your eyes flickered open. Astarion!

His crimson eyes crinkled with a smile when you looked at him. "There she is," he whispered, fonder than you had ever heard him.

"You're back," you murmured, overjoyed to be his love again but desperately tamping the feeling down. He would certainly see it now if you were not careful to hide your heart.

"What happened?" he asked. "I remember fighting goblins, but nothing else until I woke up to you avoiding me in your sleep." His tone was teasing, but there was something else there—some little bit of vulnerability. Your heart began to beat faster in your chest.

You propped your head up on your hand. "It's a long story, Star."

"Tell it to me while I feed," he suggested, already shifting to perform your morning ritual.

You rolled onto your opposite side and exposed your neck to him, sweeping your hair out of the way. "Alright," you said, barely suppressing a shudder as his lips brushed your skin, leaving a soft, yearning kiss.

What has gotten into him today? you wondered.

Astarion finally sunk his teeth into your neck. You let him take one, two, three swallows of your blood before you began talking. You spared no details, telling him what had happened since he'd been hit with a memory spell as steadily as you could with him sucking at your neck.

When he was finished, Astarion licked over the holes in your neck until they stopped bleeding.

"Thank you," he said, uncharacteristically quiet. "For the meal and for staying with me. I can't imagine it was easy work."

You looked up at him, entranced by the flush on his cheeks. You reached up to cup his face, admiring him for a moment before snapping out of your daze. "No, it...it was fine. It was..." You.

A smile twitched at the corners of his lips. Your heart sank into your stomach. He knows. Gods, he knows how I feel.

Astarion took your chin in his hand and lifted your head. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. He looked at you with that sweet, fond look in his eyes for a moment. Then they fluttered shut as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours.

Your surprise melted quickly into content as his thumb stroked your jaw instead. He tasted vaguely of iron; arousal fluttered through you, your urge only growing more powerful at the taste of your lifeblood on his tongue. Yet it slipped away as Astarion cuddled closer to you, sheltering within your arms, his lips never leaving yours. His soft, barely audible moans, were like an epic poem, his kiss a balm to the worry that had been building in your chest.

He feels it, too.

You broke away for a moment of air. "Astarion," you whispered and he let out a feral growl, chasing your lips eagerly. But for all his eagerness, it was not the kisses he gave you before he ravaged you. He was softer, slower. You felt the promise he was making you in that moment.

The kiss went on. The dynamic changed slowly; his fangs scraped across your lips—his tongue slipped into your mouth—your tongue into his—he suckled on your lower lip—you gently held his lip between your teeth—your fingers curled in his hair—his hand on your neck.

You let Astarion decide when he was done, happy to kiss him slowly. Your hand fell to his chest and rested above his unbeating heart. He hummed into your mouth.

When he did finally pull away, his cheeks were delightfully red, the tips of his ears pink. His eyes fluttered. A slow, content smile formed on his lips.

You kissed his forehead. He turned a deeper shade of red. "Thank you, my Star."

Astarion nuzzled into you. "Darling..." He dropped his mouth to your neck, once again kissing his feeding place. "I don't want to stop."

You smiled. "So don't."

Astarion was kissing you again in an instant, his hands cupping your face, cradling you close. You melted into him, giving control over to your pretty corpse.

You were interrupted by a throat clearing above you just as a shadow fell over the two you. Your lips parted from Astarion's as you both looked up, somewhat guiltily.

Lae'zel stood above you, already ready to move on. "Unstick your maws," she ordered with a snort. "We must go." She left as quickly as she had arrived, but watching after her made it clear the rest of camp had also been watching the two of you.

"Maws," Astarion mused.

"She's right," you said, sitting up. "We should get ready."

Astarion caught your hand and pressed a tender kiss to your fingers. "Alright, my love."

The two of you slipped out of the bedroll. You helped Astarion fix his hair, mussed by sleep and your hands, and then the two of you packed up your belongings quickly to catch up with the others. You hadn't realized just how much time had passed while you got lost with him.

"Good morning!" Gale said cheerily, striding over, a twinkle in his eye. "I see Astarion's regained his memory!"

You glanced up in time to see Astarion blush and give Gale the universal look that meant 'shut up' and realized Gale had known all along. When had the two of them gotten close enough for that? Or was Gale just very good at reading people?

"I have," Astarion said coolly, recovering. "Our lovely leader here has filled me in on what happened while I was...indisposed." He looked awkward for a moment, then continued, "I apologize for shooting you, wizard."

"Apology accepted," Gale said matter-of-factly. He lifted his arm to prove it had healed. "No harm done!"

You finished up with your packing. "Where are we off to today?" you asked Gale. "Have the others decided?"

He pulled a face. "Everyone's got their own ideas," he said tactfully. "I think it'd be best if you decided what we handled first."

You sighed. "You mean that Shadowheart and Lae'zel are trying to kill each other, and I have to stop them and take the heat from whoever I piss off more."

Gale winced. "Yes, something like that."

"Alright. I'll be right there."

Gale nodded and started back toward where the others were gathered. You watched him go with a sigh.

"Is that why Lae'zel interrupted us?" Astarion asked. "Because if she thinks that's a way to gain favor, she's most certainly wrong."

You giggled at him. "Did someone want to keep kissing?"

He tried to hold your gaze, but looked away as his ears turned pink again. "Maybe," he muttered.

You kissed his cheek. "Later," you promised. You offered him your hand. "Come on. Let's get this sorted."

"Alright, my love," he said—a new phrase of his, it seemed—and took your hand. For a moment, he just looked at you, like there was something he wanted to say. You paused.

"What is it?" you asked.

He shook his head, a tiny smile on his lips now. "Nothing." You raised your eyebrow. "We'll talk about it later."

You nodded. "Alright."

You walked toward your bickering companions. Lae'zel was muttering about the creche, Shadowheart adamantly refusing not to go, with Wyll and Karlach trying to placate them both. At least those two weren't still at each other's throats.

The minute Shadowheart saw you, she darted over. "We have to get to the Temple of Shar," she started. "We made so much progress before we reached the goblins—"

"Chk! Our top priority should be the creche—"

Shadowheart glared at the githyanki. "We are not going to the creche!"

"We are going to neither place just yet, and you are both staying here in camp until you learn to get along," you said sharply. You saw Astarion smirk out of the corner of your eye. "Gale, Karlach, you'll come with me and Astarion. We'll see how far we can get and make a decision from there."

Karlach pulled a face. "Are you two going to kiss all day?" she complained.

You rolled your eyes. "That depends on how much you annoy me. Now, come on. I'd like to get going. And for the love of all, can we please avoid memory spells?"

Gale bit back a smile. "Are you certain? It seems to me you've gotten something rather good out of it." He glanced down at your fingers, still twined with Astarion's.

You glanced at Astarion. "Yes," you agreed. "And he is enough for me." You kissed his cheek again. For only his ears, you whispered, "I mean that, you know."

He smiled at you. "I know."

"Good," you said. You kissed him quickly.

You waited for Gale and Karlach to get what they needed with your head resting on Astarion's shoulder. You knew as well as any that you were far from steady; you still had much to talk about. You looked up at Astarion and found a far-off look in his eyes, one that looked a little too much like sorrow for your liking.

Astarion's "nothing" was looking an awful lot like "something."

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel@cheeslyy@ofmyth-andmagicart@neetheslayer@whispering-depths@freesidexjunkie@lightsinmycity@the0ldmann@gobbodoggo@oooof-ifellforyou@beeblisss@fangboner@aquaarietes@fiercest-eigengrau-skies@niqhtfell@call-me-nyxx@lueji-m@ceres-xiv@tricksy-trinity@graynstairs@rosa-rubus@ynisthatyou@thegoodwitchs-blog@catching-fire-in-the-wind @kiyastrf94 @vincemachina @silverfangmarks @ravenswritingroom @hinata7346 @hellethil @makepastanotwar13 @caramel-hufflepuff @beemiilk @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @starwatch77 @julianmarie @sadexistentialism @supernaturallover15 @writinghound @frankie-mercury @kindadolly @infernalrusalka

[avenananana]

What are you looking at?

full pic is on my Patreon for free (check pinned post)

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

"I'm a vampire" "well...obviously"

A little one shot about how that reveal went in my headcannon

Ft: Astarion and my durge Tomie. Some hurt/comfort :3

It has been about a tenday of this strange adventure. Tomie has recruited quite the unusual band of companions. The most odd of which is Astarion. He never sleeps, and on multiple occasions now, Tomie has seen him stumble into the forest. He doesn't return until morning. They have become fast friends since he first pulled his dagger out on her. But he never allowed her to close the space between them. He always keeps his distance. She figures he just likes his space.

But recently she has found him staring almost, was it hungrily? At her when she does certain things like put her hair up out of her face or brush it all to one side. She has her suspicions but doesn't want to pry. She lets it go for now, hoping one day he will trust her enough to tell her his secret.

One night at camp, Tomie was washing her armour, dressed in only her undergarments that wetly clung to her skin. The concept of privacy is lost when you're travelling with a bunch of strangers who can all hear each others thoughts. She doesn't mind, they have all seen each other naked at this point. When you have to take turns bathing in the river and someone has to keep watch, you get used to it pretty quickly.

Tomie brushes all her dark silken tresses to one side as she works, exposing the flesh on her neck. Her tail swishing from side to side. She suddenly feels cold eyes staring at her. She looks behind her to find Astarion almost hunched over, eyes dark.

"Asty?" Tomie calls out.

As quickly as she looks over, Astarion composes himself and approaches her.

"Hello darling, what are you doing out here, all exposed?" Astarion purrs. His voice coated with something that sounds almost like malice.

"Washing...My clothes?" Tomie says, confused.

"Wearing barely anything? Quite the little temptress you are" Astarion flirts.

"Oh please, I'm just doing chores. My nightclothes are right over there, I just didn't want them getting wet". Tomie says. She sensed his flirtation feels a bit desperate. But the feeling subsides.

He looks almost disappointed that she didn't flirt back. "Right...Well I'm off, I need to...Take a walk. Clear my head."

"Oh! A walk? Can I come with you?" Tomie jumps up to grab her night clothes and quickly puts them on before Astarion can protest."

"Eager to spend some time with me are you?"

"I just- I don't know you very well. But I want to. We don't have to be strangers. I don't bite I promise!" Tomie says with a big smile. Her pointed fangs poking out from her pretty lips. Astarion laughs to himself at the irony.

"Well...*sigh* alright. But you may not enjoy this kind of walk".

They disappear into the forest together and eventually approach a small clearing.

"Sooo...When do you plan on telling me that you're a vampire?" Tomie says coyly.

"Ha! So you knew?"

"You're not exactly the best at hiding it buddy. But I wanted to respect your privacy." Tomie smiles.

"You're...Sweet". Astarion huffs and stumbles a bit until he eventually falls to his kees, weakened. Tomie immediately joins him on the soft forest floor, trying to prop him up and check if he's okay.

"Astarion! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine I just, haven't had the best luck hunting recently. I've never had to do it before and I- well, it's been a while since i've last had a meal"

Tomie cocks her head and looks over him with concern. His skin is ice cold, his eyes dark. She had never been close enough to see his eyes before. They were a deep crimson, the dark circles under his eyes looked tired and worn. His pallid skin had an almost pearlescent quality to it. She brushes some of his hair out of his face and rests her hand on his cheek. It takes everything in Astarions power not to melt into her warm touch. It's too soon, he thought. There's no way this strange little tiefling had bewitched him already. But sometimes he looks at her and feels a longing he has never felt before. He just assumed it was hunger but maybe it's something else. No matter, he's too tired to think about that right now. He stares into Tomies eyes. Cat-like pupils and raging blood red irises that glow in the dim light. Dangerous and volitile, but also gentle.

"You know all you ever had to do was ask?" Tomie says with a sweet smile.

"At best I feared you'd say no, more likely you'd ram a stake through my ribs. I needed you to trust me" Astarion says, out of breath.

"I do, now get over here and have some blood before you pass out" Tomie says. She lies down on her back and moves her hair out of the way so Astarion can easily access the flesh on her neck.

"You're sure?" Astarion says.

"Yes, now feed so I don't have to carry you back to camp". Tomie says with a stern tone. Astarion leans over her. He puts his lips against her neck to feel her pulse point. The urge to kiss her neck is overrun by his urge to feed. As gently as possible, he bites down into the tender flesh. Tomie doesn't make a sound. Just slow and steady breaths. As he feeds, his mind becomes clear, alert, hungry. She tastes incredible. Like a rich and fragrant brandy. He feeds for what feels like forever until he starts to feel Tomie's body growing cold. He stops immediately to see her eyelids fluttering and her breathing become more shallow.

"Shit. Darling! Why didn't you stop me? Say something?? Push me away?" Astarions voice cracks. He cradles her head and starts lifting her to sitting position. Tomie's body barely complies. She is not in any state to walk.

He holds her face in his hands. "Look at me darling, stay with me alright? You'll be fine. I'm going to bring you back to camp."

"Are you okay now? Did you get enough?" Tomie says, weakly.

Such a sweet thing. She better not die. He stopped just before she would have slipped away, it seems.

"I'm more than okay. Don't worry about me."

With his restored strength, he picks her up gently and starts carrying her back to camp. Her arms and legs wrap around him limply and she rests her head over his shoulder.

"Now I'm the one carrying you, darling." He chuckles nervously. "Stay with me, we'll get you sorted". He tries and fails to hide the clear concern in his voice.

She starts absent-mindedly running her hands through his soft white curls. He assumes she's doing this to signal to him that she is okay and isn't angry. A bit of soothing to calm his racing mind. Gods, this woman is driving him mad. Even in a state of near death she's still worried about him more.

Thankfully everyone is already asleep and won't see him carrying their passed out, bleeding leader to his tent. He doesn't know how he would even begin to explain this.

Once inside, he lays her down on his bedroll and tries to gather water and rations. When she has recovered, she can eat and regain her strength just like she did for him. Once she is all set up and sleeping soundly. He takes a deep sigh. Gods, he almost killed her. And she didn't say a thing. She said she trusted him and she did completely. Even to the point of near death. He needs to be more careful. If he kills the groups leader, the others would turn on him in an instant.

But for now, she is fine. If a bit tired. She will rest and be alright. He will keep watch to make sure she's safe and ok. He owes her that much.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Happy Birthday

Just a really self-indulgent fic for my bday. And yes I am going to spend my entire birthday on bg3 trying to romance this fictional vampire.

Summary: Astarion struggles to come up with a gift for you birthday.

Astarion knew your birthday was coming up, but he didn’t know what to get you. What did you want that you already didn’t have? You already seemed rather content with whatever you had, and you barely glanced at trinkets in the markets, content with whatever loot you found during the journey. He was at quite the loss for in the romance books he had read, flowers, jewellery, perfume had been the typical gifts given and yet you had never quite been inclined towards such things.

“Astarion? Is something wrong?”

He blinks, startled and realises that you’re standing right in front of him.

“Oh, it’s nothing darling, don’t you worry,” he smiles, gently cupping your cheek. He presses a kiss to your forehead, thumb gliding over your skin. You frown but don’t press the matter further. If he was comfortable with telling you about it, he would share it with you. You weren’t going to make him uncomfortable by forcing him to tell you what was on his mind.

“Just…know that you can tell me anything, alright?” You ask worriedly, giving his hand a squeeze. He nods, lifting your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You smile, pulling him in for a hug and he nuzzles you in return, happy about the small act of love.

“I’ll see you later tonight,” you lean in for a kiss on the lips before quickly pulling away to head off with Wyll to scout the area ahead. He watches you go, an imprint of your warmth lingering on his skin and heads back inside his tent, trying to ignore the way his undead heart pounds against his chest, words stuck in his throat.

He spends the next few days wracking his brain on what to get you for your birthday while taking out his frustrations on the poor goblins the party encountered along the way until one day, he found something that had caught your attention. Of all things, it had to be some mediocre cloak.

“What’s so interesting about that…thing?” Astarion frowns. “I could purchase a cloak made with far better quality elsewhere.”

“But it’s handmade! It’s a product of someone’s hard work, time, effort and heart! How could you not appreciate it!” You huff, handing over the gold to the grateful merchant and hug the cloak close to your chest, smiling brightly. Astarion rolls his eyes and pulls you along before you can spend more gold on ‘mediocre items’, but this encounter has given him an idea of what to gift you for your birthday.

The moment the two of you reach camp, he slips into his tent and sneaks out the sewing kit he has stashed away in the deepest depths. A number of items he can sew for you run through his mind, but the one thing that nags away at his mind is a scarf. It has not escaped his notice how you often shiver on chilly nights, brushing it off whenever Karlach confronts you about it. He never misses how you jump whenever he touches your bare skin on such nights before giving him a reassuring smile and leaning into the touch despite the chill.

So he begins sewing a scarf, weaving it together with fabrics of your favourite colours whenever the party decides to set up camp for the night.

You raise an eyebrow when Astarion hastily disappears into his tent without even saying a word to you for the third night in a row, wondering what is going on. The first two nights you let the issue slide, thinking that he just needed some space to process whatever was going on in his head, but this was the third night and it was getting worrying.

Making your way to his tent, you pause outside the flap, wondering if by doing this you’re intruding on his privacy but decide you’d rather risk getting yelled at for sticking your nose into his business than let his potentially dark thoughts consume him.

“Astarion? I’m coming in!” You call before lifting up the tent flap, hearing a small commotion as you step in but are only greeted with the sight of Astarion holding a book, sitting on his bedroll with a smile.

“Hello, dearest.” He’s sitting rather stiffly for someone who ‘has been reading for the past however long’, stirring suspicion within you but you pretend that you haven’t noticed anything, hoping that you can coax whatever it was out of him.

“You haven’t been feeding lately.” You start off with a simple comment to lower his guard.

“There are plenty of bears around these woods, darling, don’t you worry.”

“I thought you said bear blood isn’t as tasty as mine?”

“You have been rather busy as of late, darling. I didn’t want to tire you further.”

“You’re the one who has been rather busy as of late, disappearing into your tent immediately after we set up camp.” You point out, arms folded across your chest. “Is there something that’s bothering you?”

“No?” He blinks, “I’ve just been rather engrossed in this book as of late.”

“So engrossed that you can’t even set aside some time to spend with me?”

Oh. He screwed up.

“I didn’t mean to —”

“Am I really less interesting than a book?”

“Of course not!” Astarion shifts anxiously. Was he going to lose whatever was going on between the both of you? He hadn’t thought about how his fixation on getting that scarf sewn on time for your birthday would affect you, the message his actions would send you, and how…all he wanted was to make you happy.

Your gaze softens and you apologise for being so harsh with him, which he automatically brushes off with a fake smile and a laugh, saying that it was alright but you could tell you had set something off in the deep recesses of his mind.

“Astarion.” You say gently.

“Yes darling?”

“Please tell me if I’ve hurt you. I never intend to, but I need to know if I have so that I won’t repeat it again,” you plead, worry gnawing at your insides. What if his guard was back up, leaving him alone with his own mind that tore him apart? What if he was pushing you away, you couldn’t imagine a life without him in every facet of it. What if he had grown tired of you, or worse, afraid of you? You didn’t want to lose the bond so painstakingly forged and greatly cherished, the very thought that he would leave scared you far more than anything in the world.

“It’s not that!” He quickly stands to his feet, swiftly closing the distance and wraps his arms around you tightly. “It’s…nothing, I promise. Don’t leave me.”

He whispers the last part but you catch it anyways. Burying your face into his chest, you wrap your arms around him as well, breathing in his scent.

“I won’t ever leave you, you’re my star, I’m lost without you.”

His eyes widen for a fraction of a second and a wide smile graces his face, a smile you cannot see and he doesn’t want you to see. A giddy feeling bubbles within his chest, he had never thought he would ever find anyone who would love him, and yet here he was, standing in the arms of someone who considered him their everything.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, the half-sewn scarf left forgotten. He would much rather spend the rest of the night with you, in your embrace and so he does, happily purring away when you massage his scalp and pressing as many kisses as he possibly can to your face.

Your worries are washed away when you see him relax like this, slipping into a trance whilst he’s curled up against you. Maybe you were worried about nothing after all. You run your fingers through his soft silvery curls, humming a lullaby you remember from your childhood as you feel sleep claim you and you drift off soon after, burning the image of a trancing Astarion into your mind.

You and Astarion fall into a routine in the following days where he would spend the first half of the night alone in his tent, doing whatever secret private thing he was doing and then he would move over to your tent for the remainder of the night, spending it either cuddling or reading with you. It was an agreement the both of you were satisfied with, and the whole party was relieved that the tension had faded. Bit by bit Astarion inched closer towards a finished scarf, and the night before your birthday, he finally had the complete product.

“Finally!” He groaned, collapsing onto his bedroll. It wasn’t the best scarf he’d ever seen, but it was decent enough, at least for his standards. Then the doubt started creeping in. Would you like it? Would you wear it? What if all the effort he had put into making the scarf was for naught? But then he remembers how until now, you’ve been wearing that mediocre cloak you had bought because it was handmade and it reassures him a little. He wouldn’t know how you felt about his scarf until he gifted it to you.

When the sun rose on your big day, Astarion waited until the others had said their well wishes and given you their gifts before approaching you.

“Y/N.” He says.

“Yes, Star?” You tilt your head in confusion. He rarely called you by your name, and when he did it was usually a serious matter.

“Happy birthday,” he says quickly, embarrassed as he thrusts a neatly wrapped package into your arms.

You beam, eagerly tearing it open and gasp when you see what lies inside.

“A scarf! I’ve been meaning to get one!” You cheer. “Thank you, Star! Really!”

His heart warms at your words, his lips curling up slightly as he watches you struggle to put it on.

“Would you like some help with that, my love?” He reaches over anyways, untangling you from the fabric and expertly wraps it around your neck before finishing it with a peck to your fore head. “There, done.”

You happily twirl around, playing with the ends of your scarf and giggle, throwing yourself at the vampire.

“Thank you so much!”

“Anytime, love.”

“Where did you buy this from?” You ask, happily burying your face into the soft fabric.

“I…I made it myself,” he mumbles, twiddling his fingers.

“You did? It must have taken so long to make this! That makes it even more precious!” You hug him tightly.

“I’m glad you like it,” he kisses the top of your head, all worry long washed away.

“Of couse I do. Anything you give me, I like it.” You grin up at him. “Now, can we spend the rest of the day together?”

“I would like nothing more, my love.”

[andauril]

Another greyscale sketch of Silaestra and Astarion bc I am posessed.

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Commission Info

[anda-arts]

Old art redraw. On the left is the original that I drew in April, and the redraw is on the right. I wanted to see how far I'd come as an artist since then.

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Commission Info

[aristenfromwarsaw]

My first gifs I have ever made and I love them ❤️. I wanna show Astarion's kiss from different perspectives ❤️.