#Astarion x Reader

[libbybee]

IN THE HEAT OF YEARNING — SA.

summary: after cazador's defeat, astarion faces something he thought lost to time; his heat returning with a force he never expected. the unfamiliar sensation of longing mixed with freedom make him torn between the instinct to dominate and the desire to surrender to you. warnings: MDNI 18+, female!reader, sub!dom vampire spawn, shameless smut, mentions of astarion's past, pleading, dependence, masturbation [M], anorgasmia [M], p in v, vaginal sex, cock riding, unprotected sex, creampie. wc: 6K+

ㅤMASTERLIST. GIF.

a/n: english isn't my native language, sorry if there are grammar mistakes. img.

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It had been weeks, perhaps months, since you helped him put an end to his master, Cazador. Even now, Astarion wasn’t sure how to feel or what to do.

The sensation of freedom hit him like a tornado tearing through his life, leaving him adrift and uncertain. Even the pronunciation of the words caught on his tongue, clinging to his throat whenever he tried to voice a trace of what he felt.

Declaring himself “unchained” sounded jarring to his ears, but, fortunately, there you were to help him adjust to these unfamiliar emotions that weighed on his shoulders. With everything that freedom entailed. Everything.

He hadn’t told you about this... personal problem of his. Truthfully, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, ashamed of what you might think or say if you found out.

Astarion knew it was foolish to feel so ashamed, especially considering the kind of person you were and how much better you treated him than the nightmares of his past—the loneliness that had surrounded him since he had begrudgingly accepted the curse of immortality. But, gods, just thinking about it made his throat tighten painfully and his hands tremble with cold sweat.

He tried his hardest to confess to you on those unique occasions you shared in private, when there was no one else around to overhear, but every time, he backed down.

After so many failed attempts, he stopped considering it altogether, only cursing himself for not telling you sooner.

Now, feeling this unbearable urge, he was determined not to say a word. Nothing in hell would make him... except his very self.

His lips whimpered pathetically, your name slipping through gasps muffled against the fabric of your panties. His eyelids squeezed shut, his other hand massaging the head of his cock tightly enough to hurt, desperately trying to mimic the sensation of your warmth walls wrapped around him. Only to fail miserably.

His vampirism had awakened this cursed heat, a condition he loathed to the very core of his damned nature, yet he couldn’t prevent or fight against it. He had spent decades quelling his desires in solitude, without anyone to ease the craving when he needed it most.

The self-pity of it swelled his skin, feeling himself become so... damned “sweetly necessitous” and so lovesick for anyone who crossed his path in those times when he was still delivering prey to his master. But now he had you. And gods, you were going to be a problem. The faint traces of your arousal on the crushed fabric pressed to his nose were enough to drive him mad; you smelt so, so irresistibly good...

Fleeting memories of the first time he bit you flashed through his mind in a haze of desperation to reach his orgasm. The sweetness of your blood, like rich port wine on his tongue, was the finest thing he’d experienced in his entire existence.

He was quite clear just how thoroughly you’d unravelled his self-reliance. This inefficiency blazed brighter than ever in his mind each time he found himself dependent on you and you weren’t there for him, just like now. Craving you in a way he hadn’t needed anyone in lifetimes.

The sheer sensation of having your naked body pressed up against his while he buried himself balls deep inside you, the feeling of the perfect, welcoming warmth from that exquisite pussy of yours, gripping him as if he were the most vital thing in your life... He’d give anything to feel you like that right now; have you easing his agonising heat until his pain and loneliness were fully sated. But these thoughts only sent his urgency skyrocketing higher than ever.

The side of your shared bed still held your intoxicating scent, and pressing your panties to his sharp nose reminded him of how tightly your walls would clench around him every time he thrust in and out of your perfect cunt as he fucked it exactly how he knew to so well. An intense desperation took hold of him, slamming his clenched fist into his quivering pelvis to fuck his hand with a ferocity that echoed how he would fuck you again if you were here. By now, thick beads of his precum trickled from his swollen tip, sliding down his pale, agile fingers.

His silky white curls clung to his sweat-dampened forehead and nape, his teeth gritting in nothing but frustration at his inability to reach that elusive release. Each time he came close, the peak seemed to slip away, taunting him from just out of reach. But he couldn’t fully blame himself, because deep down, he knew he didn’t want to cum like this.

It wasn’t just the release he craved; it was you. Without you here, everything felt hollow; his touch was a pitiful substitute for the real thing. He wanted nothing more than to cum inside you, to hear the sweet, melodic sounds of your moans and gasps as his warm semen filled you, seeping out around the edges of his cock as he stayed buried deep within. He longed to watch you bask after your climax, knowing you were utterly his in that moment, both bound in bliss.

The fantasy gripped him, vivid and fierce—an impossible hope to leave something lasting within you, to fill you until he could almost imagine creating life together, even though he knew his cursed being would never allow such a thing. Yet the thought alone, however unattainable, only drove his need further, intensifying his urge to fuck you completely, as if every part of him belonged to you, even in ways that fate had denied him.

A deep flush spread from his cheeks to the very tips of his sensitive ears as he realised just how utterly charmed he was by you and how his mind overflowed with visions of you and only you. He could see it all so vividly: your gorgeous, tempting pussy, the soft contours of your breasts that fit his hands as though crafted just for him and his carnal lust, your lips swollen from his endless kisses, and your eyes glazed, pupils blown wide with pleasure.

Every detail of you was etched into his mind—an addicting vision he couldn't escape. You were the star of every lustful scene that played out in his imagination, the embodiment of his most desperate fantasies.

He tried once more to focus, though his body trembled atop the sheets with sheer need. He closed his eyes and fantasised about your pussy all reddened and swollen for him, glistening in your rich juices and so deliciously wet that you’d be dampening the sheets beneath you.

Astarion could almost feel the anxious pulse of your clit, just begging for his mouth and tongue. The thought of his lips grazing that sensitive bundle, tormenting it to the point of agony, filled his mind, and he could hardly help but drool. He could practically taste you, the luscious, toxicant sweetness of your arousal filling him as he’d lavish every inch of your cunt with his mouth, sucking and licking with ravenous need until you were drenched.

He let out a low, frustrated growl, swirling his closed fist just around his incarnate tip in a futile attempt to force his climax, but his mind betrayed him, flooding with vivid images of your sweaty body and the insatiable pussy he yearned so badly. However, he was pretty clear: nothing could replace you. Not his hand, not the fantasies that had become a poor substitute, nothing could come close to the reality he wanted.

In his mind, he saw you beneath him, legs spread-eagled, your lips calling his name in whispered moans that grew louder with each thrust. He could nearly feel your breath against his ear, filling him with the sweet sound of your whimpers, each one more desperate than the last. His hand felt pitifully inadequate compared to being buried deep inside you, his body pressed down against yours as he consumed every last piece of you.

In the quiet shadows of your bedroom, he trembled with the wrenching pain, torn between hunger and exasperation. His voice whispered out, barely audible, “My love… I need you.”

Astarion’s breathing came in ragged gasps as he chased a release that refused to reach him. Tightening his hand to increase his movement speed, he became almost frantic, as though sheer desperation could fill the emptiness of not having you. His head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut as he let out a strangled moan against your panties, your lovely name slipping from his lips like a mantra.

He was completely lost, so absorbed that he didn't even hear the soft creak of the door or the faint shuffle of your footsteps.

You’d woken in the night, drowsily reaching for him only to find the other side of the bed empty, letting your hand land on cool sheets instead of his skin. Concerned and bleary-eyed, you went looking for him, thinking that perhaps a nightmare had drawn him away.

But nothing could have prepared you for the sight before you.

In the dim light spilling from cracked curtains of a window, his silhouette trembled, his hips bucking desperately into his hand as if he couldn’t stand another second of the ache inside him. His cheeks were flushed with a feverish red, and his lips parted to release soft, breathless whimpers. His grip on himself was almost punishing, fingers digging into his flesh as he stroked with an almost frenzied pace, trying to force himself to the relief he sought but clearly struggling.

You inched closer, entranced by the sight of his body arching and tensing, brow knit in frustration as he let out quiet, ragged curses under his breath. His voice, thick with desperation, cracked as he whispered your name as if the mere thought of you was both a balm and a torment. He was so lost, so utterly engrossed in his aching need, that he didn’t notice your presence. He didn’t felt your eyes or the way your own heart raced at the sight of him.

Unable to resist, you let out a quiet voice calling his name while opening the door, just loud enough to break through his veil.

He snapped open his eyes, the red irises gleaming in the darkness as he finally became aware he wasn’t alone. Astarion froze, lips parting in shock as his gaze met yours, the flush in his cheeks deepening as he felt instantly embarrassed with your underwear under his nose. The rich fabric of his Victorian shirt clung to his chest, slightly askew from his restless movements.

“I was… I wasn’t expecting you…” He managed to speak with a low, rough voice, as if pulled straight from the depths of his body. He relaxed slightly in an attempt to regain his composure, though his cock gave a subtle, instinctual thump against his stomach as he failed to suppress his arousal. Then he swallowed hard, the exposed skin at his throat glistening in the dim light for his sweat, his expression a blur of yearning and bashfulness.

You took another step closer to your old bed. The intensity of his state made your breath quicken as you took in every detail of his parted lips, the flush trailing to his ears, the slight tremor in his fingers as he tried to maintain them steady...

“Couldn’t sleep, Astarion?” You asked with both curiosity and... somewhat understanding.

Astarion let out a sigh while a soft smile tugged at his lips. “It seems I have… trouble finding satisfaction without you, my dear.” He lowered the fabric of your underwear from his face to leave it on the nightstand, his eyes never leaving yours, although his vulnerable yet unabashedly captivated emotions.

“Come here…” He murmured in a velvet purr as he reached out, inviting you. His eyes gleamed with want, and, at that moment, he felt himself wholly yours to possess and do whatever you wanted, but you didn't know just yet.

His delicate fabric slightly loosened at the collar and sleeves, a bit untied, his hair tousled... This image of him awakened something inside you, drawing you deeper into his charming and cuddly spell.

You reached for his hand, marvelling at how adorable he looked at this moment. With a serene smile, you settled beside him on the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight as you sat close enough to feel his body almost touching yours.

Astarion let out a long, shaky breath, his body finally relaxing as he leaned into you, his forehead coming to rest on your shoulder. He was warm, and you could feel the faint tremor in his body as if something had unravelled his entire being.

Then he let out a low, breathless giggle; the sound tinged with relief and a hint of humour. “You’re toying with me…” He murmured softly against your skin before placing a kiss on it with a touch of playful reproach. “Leaving me here, all night... suffering by myself.” His words were light, but you could feel the weight behind them, the hollowness he rarely showed.

As his head rested heavily against your shoulder, Astarion’s fingers tangled in your hair, gently gripping it as if securing himself to you. His touch was both eager and tender as he instinctively snuggled closer to encircle your waist, seeking solace in your embrace. It was a stark contrast to that usually composed and confident vampire you knew, making him appear almost childlike as if he were looking for comfort after a nightmare.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer against you. The way he nestled into you made your soul melt in affection, but a flicker of concern crept into your mind as you wondered what had haunted him in the quiet solitude of the night. His sigh was soft, barely audible, and his grip on your hair tightened, almost as if he feared losing you in this vulnerable moment.

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” You asked softly while caressing his arm gently. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

He furrowed his brow slightly, the weakness in his demeanour becoming more pronounced. “I suppose… I thought I could manage. But it seems I could not.” His voice was low, laced with an honesty that took you even by surprise.

Before continuing, he took a deep breath to steel himself. “There’s something I haven’t told you... something I’ve been trying to suppress.” As he spoke, his eyes peered at your face, a mixture of uncertainty and yearning reflected in their blackness. The playful humour that often danced in his gaze was gone, replaced by a rawness that tugged at your heartstrings.

You searched his eyes to urge him to continue while your thoughts already were wondering what it could be. “What is it?”

Astarion swallowed hard, his brow furrowing as he wrestled with his emotions. “I... I’m in my heat...” He finally confessed. “After everything that happened with Cazador, I thought I could control it and push it away. But it’s relentless. This... need; it’s too much, and I’ve been fighting it alone for so long.”

You instinctively pulled him closer, the warmth of your body against his providing a gentle anchor in the storm of his turmoil. Feeling a surge of empathy, you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek, hoping to erase any sense of his silly shame. “Astarion... You are not alone any more. I’m here... with you.”

He leaned into your touch, a faint shudder passing through him as he let out a soft sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly for your words. “I didn’t want to burden you with this, darling…”

“You could never be a burden to me, silly.” You reassured him.

A liberating glint passed through his eyes before they narrowed slightly, his expression gentling as he leaned his cheek into the warmth of your hand. “So tell me, my darling... what are you going to do with me now?” He asked sweetly, smiling with some curiosity, as though he were either coaxing you forward... or daring you to finish what he’d started.

You held his gaze for a few seconds longer before letting your eyes drop to his hard, aching length.

You slowly pull out of his embrace to rise from the bed, then with unhurried motions, you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of your pyjama trousers and your panties, sliding them down your legs. The fabric fell to the floor, quickly joined by your bra, leaving you bare before him. The chilly winter air grazed your skin, causing a shiver to dance along your back and harden your nipples instantly.

“I’m going to take care of you…” You saw how his eyes roamed over every inch of you with his usual intense, hungry gaze, caressing your body as though it were a precious treasure he could finally hold.

Astarion’s gaze returned to yours with a warm, wide smile, brimming with adoration and desire. “You’re…breathtaking…” He murmured, almost as though speaking the words out loud might shatter the moment.

Your heart swelled at the sight of him, so open, so vulnerable, and so utterly yours. You settled back onto the bed beside him, leaning close as you placed a soft, reassuring kiss against his cheek. Letting your hand drift from his thigh to his lap to wrap your fingers around his cock, feeling the hardness of it, respond immediately to your gentle touch by throbbing excitedly. You began to slowly stroke him, keeping a slow yet steady rhythm.

He moaned softly, his head fell back, and his eyes closed while a subtle shudder ran through him. His fingers instinctively clung to your arm; the look of pure need etched from his face only spurred you on. Your strokes grow firmer as each pass of your hand drew a new, delicious sound from his delicate lips. During that, you leaned closer to let your warm breath graze his neck before you started to spread soft kisses along it.

His usual composure had crumbled, giving way to a raw, unrestrained need—a desperation born of decades of unsatisfied feelings and the maddening ache of his heat. He tried so hard to find satisfaction, but nothing had ever been enough since he met you. Only you could soothe this torment and bring him the relief he required.

You pulled back slightly from his neck, meeting his eyes as you paused your attentions to gently nudge him onto the bed. He didn’t resist at all, allowing you to do whatever you wanted with him and looking at you with sparkling impatience across his darkened pupils.

You ran your hands along his thighs one more time, fingertips tracing over every taut line and curve, savouring the feel of his skin. As you settled on the mattress to straddle his hips, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his stomach, your lips grazing over the fabric stretched over his torso. Your hands travelled up, resting on his chest, where you could feel his muscles tense beneath his clothing. With a teasing smile, you left a gentle trail of kisses along his uncovered chest, up to his collarbone, and finally brushing your lips along his jaw.

His hands locked to your thighs, his breaths warm as he relaxed in your presence. He allowed himself to be vulnerable before you, and it was unlike anything you had seen in him before. He looked as though he might beg at any moment, desperate and undone. His fingers trembled slightly as he held you tighter, sliding his hands up to grip your hips.

“Is this what you want?” You asked, although you already knew the answer well, just to savour this moment, having him so needy for you.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his answer slipping out almost without thought. “Yes.” His voice was harsh, barely holding together as he looked up at you in admiration, like he could hardly believe he was so close to the release that he’d been yearning for.

Astarion moved his hands from your hips to your waist, guiding you down as he suppressed a desperate groan, his head tipping back into your pillow, still infused with your intoxicating scent. “My darling…” He purred, calling out to you. “I need you, please…” The words spilt from him with urgency, though his seductive edge persevered. His hands gripped your waist again, uncertain where to grab; only knowing he wanted every part of you. “Pretty please…”

The transformation in him was almost endearing, watching his pride melt in the face of his heat. You couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks warming as he let slip those velvety, magical words.

Reaching down, you let your fingers brush over the base of his cock, feeling the rigid heat of his arousal. You spit into your palm and took his hardened cock to slick him out, stroking him slowly up and down. You weren’t entirely wet yet, and you wanted this moment to be as perfect as possible for him.

At the same time, your other hand slipped lower, cradling his sac and massaging softly in rhythm with each stroke. His sighs came faster, a soft groan escaping him as your fingers trailed along his sensitive skin.

You moved your focus to his swollen, pulsing glans now, slick with precum that had trickled down his length. You continued stroking with both hands now, smoothing the warm fluid mixed with your saliva down his length to make sure he was well lubricated. Finally, positioning yourself, you let the head of his cock rub your clit and your entrance.

Although you were keenly aware of his need and, in a way, his impatience to bury himself inside you, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to draw out this special moment as long as possible.

Finally, you let the head of his cock kiss your entrance, beginning to lower your hips as you felt the delicious stretch of your slit as it let him through and of your interior accommodating him. You felt yourself tighten instinctively around his thick length, your walls gripping him as he slid deeper within.

You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation until you heard him release a strangled moan, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as if holding you could somehow ease his ache. Reopening your eyes, you saw his flush cheeks and closed eyelids, and you felt captivated by his vulnerability. Your heart pounded against your chest at seeing him so... exposed to you.

Once he was fully seated within you until his tip was pushing against your cervix, you began to rise and fall slowly. Rolling your hips slightly forward and back, you felt the rigidity in his cock and every vein deliciously caressing your walls. His grip tightened as he released sweet, breathy sighs with each of your motions, his eyes fixed on you, utterly enraptured as he felt himself dissolving beneath you.

“Just you…” His voice trembled with a tone you haven't heard from him. “I’ve needed this... needed you... for so long. I tried to resist... gods, I tried... but nothing, nothing else could…” His words trailed off in an involuntary moan as his pelvis lifted instinctively to feel every inch of your insides squeeze his painfully swollen cock.

A satisfied moan escaped your lips as you watched himself giving to pleasure, his expression lost in bliss. Spurred by his urge, you began to move with more eagerness, riding him harder and faster, your pelvis colliding with his in a wild rhythm. Every thrust sent jolts of pleasure through you both as your hips moved in perfect sync.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you leaned down to capture his lips, and he responded with a yearning whimper, returning the kiss with impatience. “I’ve never seen you like this, Astarion.” You murmured against his lips, admiring the flush across his cheeks. “It’s… adorable.”

He let out a soft, breathless laugh, though his voice was thick with longing. “I’m yours, my love…” He confessed in a low tone, holding your gaze with an unusual intensity, his eyes shining. “With you… I can’t help but lose myself…”

His hands slid up to grip your waist, attempting to guide at least your intensity and reclaim a hint of control, but you took his hands in yours. Sliding them over your torso to your breasts, letting him grab them and feel the softness of them. "Love, let me...” He murmured, raising his hips once more to penetrate you deeper. His need to bury himself inside you almost agonisingly, each motion making his tip hit your sensitive G-spot and coax gasps from your lips as he struck it with raw precision, just as your cervix.

You threw your head back, a strangled whimper escaping as the blend of pleasure and faint pain sent shocks through your womb.

“Astarion…” You called after recovering your breath just enough to let your lips brush his ear. One hand tangled into his silky hair while the other traced his chest, your fingers skimming over the fabric of his shirt. “Let me… I want to make you feel good, my love…” You whispered, letting your breath ghost over the sensitive skin of his neck, feeling him shiver beneath you because of how responsive he was to your closeness.

Astarion’s throat caught at the sensation of your warm lips on his neck for your sudden smooch, his fingers tightening around your breasts. A sly smile played on his lips, though his usual sharp wit softened because of his heat.

“Oh, my darling…” He rasped with his tone both a plea and a command as his fingers slid down to your hips, anchoring you closer. “You already do make me feel good... so exquisitely good.” His lips found the spot behind your ear to press a kiss against it. Descending to the curve of your jaw, and then lower, tracing a path full of delicate, heated kisses down to your neck.

Then he pulled you, rolling you onto the mattress in a sudden but gentle motion. His body hovered over yours as he took a moment to drink in the sight of you beneath him. “But I think it’s time I return the favour.” His voice dipped into a low growl, his thumb smoothing against your cheek as he cradled it. “Let’s see just how well I can repay you, love...” He whispered before diving to your lips with a ferocity that left no doubt of his intentions.

Every single touch and lingering kiss was a deliberate act of his devotion, focusing himself entirely on bringing you to the same heights of pleasure he so desperately craved.

Your lips crashed against his with a passion that mirrored his, a burning hunger in every kiss. You tangled your fingers into his silken, white hair to hold him close, refusing to let an inch of space between you. Your other hand gripped the fabric of his shirt in his waist, tugging it firmly, wanting nothing more than to feel the heat of his skin against yours.

Before drawing you into his embrace, he positioned his cock at your entrance to enter back inside you, joining his hips firmly against yours with a powerful thrust. A guttural groan escaped his mouth as he responded eagerly to your touch, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. Each of his movements quickened, his hips surging forward with growing intensity, each thrust driving you both toward a shared frenzy. Impulsively, he broke the kiss to trail his lips along your neck, leaving a searing path of devouring kisses and grazing your skin with his fangs, sending a delicious shiver through you.

“Gods, you're... intoxicating.” He whimpered roughly between kisses. His hands slid to your hips, gripping you rigidly to guide your body in time with his as he fucked you. His lips stayed on your neck, savouring every moan you gave him, lost in the sensation of your bodies moving together with an urgency that none of you could contain.

Astarion’s hand grabbed firmly at your nape, his fingers threading through your hair as he held your head in place against his shoulder. Positioned snugly between your legs, his thighs lifted yours, angling you so that every inch of his cock entered your pussy, leaving no space untouched.

He bobbed his hips forward with a ferocious, exhausting pace that drove him impossibly deeper into your cunt, his mouth returning in trailing hot kisses all over your skin. His grip on your nape tightened with each surge of his pelvis against yours, anchoring himself in the intensity of it, feeling how your walls massaged and vibrated around his cock. His other hand gripped your waist, drawing you closer to him as if he wanted to merge your bodies completely.

The rhythm had become urgent and desperate, his mouth leaving feverish kisses along your neck and shoulder as his pace grew erratic, driven by the overwhelming, raw desire consuming him. His hand tightened around your waist, pulling you more tightly as his thrusts grew harsher.

The fire in your body mirrored his, a blazing need that surged with every stroke. Your hand slipped down to your swollen clit, fingers stroking it in synchrony with his thrusts, sending jolts of pleasure racing through your insides. Your actions only seemed to drive him further; a primal growl escaped his lips as his hips snapped forward with a force that stole your respiration.

“Look at you... so eager for more...” Astarion purred, his tone rasping and dripping with lust. His crimson eyes roamed down your body, pausing at the place where your fingers moved against yourself. He observed, entranced, how your fingers stroked your entire clitoris, slick and needy while meeting each of his thrusts. The sight seemed to inflame him, his pupils dilating as he devoured the scene before him. A wicked grin curled on his lips. “You’re utterly delicious... I can hardly resist the urge to devour you whole.”

His voice was thick with desire, and how his crimson eyes darkened further made your heart race. You could see the pure hunger burning within him, igniting an answering fire deep in your lower belly. As you continued to stroke your clit, the tension grew unbearable, stretched so taut that one more thrust, one more touch, was all it would take to send you both over the edge.

He dipped his head, his breath hot against your skin. “I need to hear every delicious sound you make, every gasp and moan.” He murmured, the rasp in his voice thickening with each thrust.

As if in response, you moaned louder, the heat pooling between your legs intensifying as you clung to him. The urgency in his movements grew, his thrusts becoming a frantic tempo, pounding into you with a force that sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. You could feel him nearing his peak, the way his cock hardened impossibly harder inside you, leaving copious amounts of precum between your walls. The quickening pace of his breath and the tightening grip on your hips only made it more evident.

“Please...” You pleaded in a whisper, not fully sure of what you were pleading.

Astarion surged forward, claiming you with a fervour that stole the breath from your lungs. Every thrust felt overwhelming, as though he were trying to mark you as his own, to leave a lasting imprint on your body and soul. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of ecstasy that sent shockwaves through you both, pushing you closer to the precipice of bliss.

“My love…” He purred, his voice a seductive growl that resonated deep within your pussy. “I want to feel you cum around me...”

As the words sunk in, you felt your walls tighten further around his cock. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and the delicious pressure built higher and higher, threatening to spill over.

“Together…” You gasped, feeling the edge draw nearer. “I—” His lips crashed against yours in a fierce kiss, drowning out your words as his tongue rapidly tangled with yours. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you entwined in this frenzied embrace. And then, as if replying to your unspoken plea, the dam broke.

Your climax hit you like a storm, pulsing through your core and leaving you spent as your arms tightened around him and your hips moved to fuck his cock as well. Astarion let out a shuddering moan that broke the kiss, his grip almost bruising you as he reached his own release, his body trembling and spasming as yours with the intensity of it. You felt his warm cum exploding inside you, each release sending a delicious sensation up your womb and cervix, prolonging the endless pleasure crashing through you. His hands held you against him as you both rode out ecstasy, lost in the shared, heady sensation of being completely intertwined as he kept buried inside you.

You clung to him, surrendering to the exquisite moment, feeling utterly consumed by the heat and the connection that bound you together. The aftermath left you gasping for air with your heart racing, both of you lost in the afterglow of passion.

As the lingering waves of your climax subsided, you gazed at Astarion, a playful smile tugging at your lips. His tousled hair fell charmingly over his forehead, and a light sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, making him look beautiful and irresistibly enchanting.

“You know…” You started softly with a glimmer in your eyes, “You look absolutely adorable like this, all consumed by your heat.” Your heart fluttered as you watched his brows knit together in playful disbelief.

“Adorable?” One of his eyebrows went up. “I assure you, my dear, that’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

“Oh, come on!” You replied, laughter bubbling up like the sweetest melody for his ears. “Just look at you! You’ve never looked more charming—practically irresistible!”

He warmly chuckled, a rich sound that filled the air with joy. “Irresistible? My dear, I was merely indulging in what is quite natural for me. Thank you.”

You feigned a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over your heart in mock shock. “Darling! Just admit it! What an honour it is to see you in such a cute light! Who knew a fierce vampire could also be a cuddly little beast?”

Astarion rolled his eyes, but the smile that tugged at his lips was an undeniable admission of his enjoyment. “Cuddly? Now you’re pushing it, sweetie.”

“Maybe.” You said, leaning closer to him as your eyes sparkled while you batted your eyelashes playfully. “But honestly, there was something so sweet about you right now. You were so lost in the moment, like watching a passionate artist at work.”

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms with an exaggerated huff, his attempt to maintain composure failing delightfully. “I suppose I must allow you this little delusion, but do not mistake my passion for cuteness.”

“Whatever you say, my fierce little vampire.” You joked, inching even closer. “But I stand by my word. You’re absolutely adorable.”

With a soft, fluttering laugh, you reached up to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. The moment felt electric, charged with love and affection. Astarion’s lips curled against yours before reciprocating your kiss, and for a fleeting second, the heat of passion intertwined with the sweetness of the moment, turning the surrounding air into something truly magical.

As you pulled back, you found him looking at you, a soft smile gracing his features that melted your heart. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” He murmured in a playful voice mixed with exasperation and fondness.

“Only for you." You replied, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “And I think you love it. A reason more to the list for being with me!”

“Don’t say it too loud.” He replied, the playful glint in his eyes betraying his bravado.

You laughed, his presence enveloping you as you revelled in the playful banter, your hearts intertwining in the sweetest ways. At that moment, every worry faded, leaving only the bliss of shared affection, laughter, and the delightful intimacy of you two.

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[moonselune]

Based off events happening to me today:

Tav feeling super anxious for no reason and spiralling and they don't know why and their partner trying to help?

Please

Aw bless, i know this was sent a while ago but I hope things are okay xox

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The night was still, the kind of deep silence that should have felt soothing, wrapped in Karlach’s warmth and the safety of her arms. But tonight, the silence pressed on you, heavy and smothering, like a dark tide rising in your chest. Karlach had already drifted off beside you, one arm draped protectively across you as if even in sleep she wanted to keep you close, shield you.

You tried to breathe through it, tried to focus on the feeling of her arm, the softness of her skin against yours. But each inhale grew tighter, your chest clenching, until it felt like your lungs were refusing to open. Heart pounding, you clenched the sheets in your fists, trembling, as the world around you blurred and closed in, warping until you couldn’t tell up from down, awake from dreaming.

The sound of your labored breaths must have pulled Karlach from her sleep, because her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep until they landed on you and filled with immediate concern.

“Hey…hey, babe, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice low and soothing, though you could hear the edge of worry she tried to mask. Her hand, warm and steady, came up to your cheek, thumb brushing along your skin. “You’re shaking, love—talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You tried to speak, to respond with something reassuring, anything that would tell her you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The walls felt like they were closing in, your vision tunneling, and you couldn’t look away from Karlach, from her face. She was here, with you, yet you felt like you were slipping away.

Karlach’s brows knitted together, her own chest tightening with helplessness. She’d faced countless enemies, survived the hellscape of Avernus, and yet here—watching you crumble in front of her—she didn’t know what to do. Her hand moved to clasp yours, fingers intertwining tightly as though she could anchor you back to reality.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice firmer now, taking on the same tone she’d use in battle, one she knew you trusted. “Breathe with me, okay? Just…try to match my breath. In and out. You’ve got this.”

You tried, focusing on her, on the gentle rhythm of her breathing, but it felt like you were trapped in a storm, and the calm Karlach offered was just out of reach. She watched you, distress clear in her expression as she realized her words weren’t getting through, and the soft crackle of her engine, the familiar hum, only made the quiet around you seem louder.

“Dammit,” she whispered, voice wavering. “I’m here, alright? Whatever’s got you like this, I’m right here.” She pulled you closer, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her face into your hair as if she could absorb some of the weight pressing down on you. “You’re safe. I swear it. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Not if I’m here.”

Her presence, so solid and unyielding, cut through the fear just enough to let you take a shuddering breath, her warmth seeping into you like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Her fingers traced comforting circles against your back, and she murmured soft, nonsensical reassurances, the kind of quiet comforts she’d never shared with anyone before you.

“You don’t have to talk,” she whispered, though the waver in her voice told you she desperately wished she knew what was happening in your mind. “Just…squeeze my hand, okay? Let me know you’re still here with me.”

With a shaky breath, you did, your fingers trembling but firm enough as you held onto her. Her eyes softened, filling with relief as she gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return.

“You’re not alone in this,” she continued, her voice barely above a murmur. “Whatever’s in your head… I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words, grounding and soothing, began to penetrate through the fog of your mind, the relentless weight lifting bit by bit. Karlach pressed her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your face as she matched her breathing to yours, syncing your uneven gasps with her steady inhales. Each breath felt a little easier, her warmth and steady presence like an anchor pulling you back from the depths.

Minutes passed, and gradually, the panic ebbed, the tightness in your chest loosening as you took in her scent, the comfort of her closeness. She stayed with you, patient and unwavering, until you felt the storm inside finally begin to calm.

When you looked up at her, her eyes were full of worry, tinged with guilt as though she could’ve done more.

“Are you…feeling any better?” she asked, brushing a hand through your hair, voice gentle. You nodded, squeezing her hand as you gave her a shaky smile, trying to reassure her.

“Thank you, Karlach,” you whispered, your voice still unsteady. “I…don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled, though there was a vulnerability in her gaze, the depth of her worry for you still lingering. “You don’t have to know,” she said softly, pulling you close again. “Because I’m always going to be here.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The anxiety came on suddenly, like a wave crashing over you, quick and relentless, stealing the air from your lungs. Your thoughts spun out of control, a tangled mess of doubts, worries, and fears, each one feeding off the last, building into something you couldn’t escape. You felt trapped inside your own head, barely aware of your surroundings, your breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Your hands shook as you gripped the edge of the table, fighting to anchor yourself to something solid.

Minthara had been beside you moments before, going over plans for the night’s camp watch, her calm, steely focus grounding in its own way. But as she turned back to you, her face changed. The sharpness in her gaze softened ever so slightly, concern bleeding through the cracks of her usual impassive mask.

“What is wrong?” Her voice was low, steady—meant to command, to cut through confusion. But the tone only made your pulse race faster, your mind recoiling from the idea of appearing weak before her.

“Nothing,” you managed to choke out, but it was obvious you were lying, and she wasn’t one to suffer dishonesty lightly.

“Don’t lie to me,” she bit out, but you could tell her voice was more uncertain than sharp. She reached out a hand, her fingers hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with the display of vulnerability before her. Minthara was a force, a warrior who understood battlefields, strategy, survival. But this—the swirling, choking darkness you felt—wasn’t something she could simply attack head-on, and that realization seemed to unsettle her.

She watched as you struggled to control your breathing, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Speak to me,” she said again, more insistently this time, almost as if ordering you to snap out of it.

You could barely hear her over the racing thoughts in your head, each more overwhelming than the last. Anxiety had taken root deep inside you, and no amount of her demanding tone or even her solid presence could shake it loose.

“I—I can’t,” you managed, voice barely more than a whisper.

Minthara’s frustration grew, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze flickering around the room as though looking for something tangible she could fight, something she could fix. But there was nothing there, nothing to direct her fury at.

“This… fear,” she said finally, the word tasting foreign and strange in her mouth. “I don’t understand it. It has no shape, no sense. You’re strong; why can’t you just… dismiss it?” Her tone was more questioning than chastising, but you still flinched, the ache of not being understood cutting deeper.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, closing your eyes, trying to block out her piercing gaze. The words you wanted to say fell short, each attempt at an explanation slipping through your fingers. “It’s not that simple, Minthara. I can’t just will it away.”

For a moment, she stood there, silent, wrestling with her own irritation and helplessness. Her fists clenched at her sides, jaw tense. Then, with a frustrated sigh, she closed the distance between you, placing her hands on your shoulders in a grip that was firm, grounding.

“Look at me,” she ordered, and you forced yourself to meet her gaze, even as your mind continued to spin. “You are here. Right here, with me.” Her voice softened, but just barely, a rough edge of vulnerability breaking through. “There is no battle now, no foe to fight—only this moment.”

The warmth of her hands, the solidity of her presence, pulled you back, anchoring you even as you felt yourself slipping away. Her eyes held yours with a determination that cut through some of the fog, her grip on you a reminder that you weren’t alone.

“Focus on my voice, on my touch,” she murmured, her brow furrowing in concentration as she struggled to find the right words. “Breathe with me.”

You tried, inhaling deeply to match the steady rise and fall of her own breathing. The rhythm was grounding, a tether pulling you back toward something real, something outside of the chaos in your head.

“Minthara… I’m sorry,” you whispered, guilt flooding in as the worst of the panic ebbed, leaving exhaustion in its place. “I didn’t mean to… drag you into this.”

She huffed, shaking her head as her grip tightened ever so slightly.

“I don’t need your apologies,” she replied, her tone gruff but with a warmth hidden beneath. “Just… tell me how to help you next time. If there is a way.”

You nodded, her words a balm against the ache in your chest. “This… was enough.”

She scoffed lightly, but her lips softened into the barest hint of a smile. “Good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The world around you feels tight, claustrophobic, like it's closing in with each passing moment. Every sound is sharp, too loud, and every breath feels short, strained, as though you're inhaling smoke. You try to ground yourself, to focus on something—anything—but the rush of thoughts is relentless, tangling together, louder, and louder, until—

"Vlakith's eyes, what is wrong with you?"

Lae'zel's voice breaks through the noise, her tone sharp with annoyance, and though it's a familiar sound, it only heightens the chaos in your mind. You glance up at her, barely able to meet her gaze, your hands gripping the edges of your cloak tightly, knuckles white. Your vision swims, and there's something vulnerable, exposed, in your look that catches her off-guard. She crosses her arms, brow furrowing deeply.

"What has brought you to this pathetic state?" she demands, though her tone carries a slight edge of uncertainty. Lae'zel isn't used to this, to seeing you so unsteady. Her impatience seems almost protective, like she's annoyed that she can't simply strike down whatever is plaguing you.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. Your throat feels constricted, tight, and suddenly, your chest aches, like you're being crushed from the inside. Your heart races, and it’s hard to keep your breathing steady. Each attempt to explain feels pointless, small words incapable of conveying the tangle inside you.

"Lae'zel, I—" you start, but your voice cracks, and you feel a pang of embarrassment. You look away, frustration mingling with the turmoil inside, and that only makes everything worse.

Lae'zel huffs, her usual directness faltering. You see the familiar tension in her jaw, the slight narrowing of her eyes as she looks at you with something close to confusion, maybe even worry.

"Are you injured? Poisoned?" she asks, her gaze flickering over you as though searching for some sign of physical harm. "Speak, or have you lost your tongue as well?"

Your breaths come quicker, shallower, and Lae'zel's frustration intensifies. She reaches out, her hand hovering over your shoulder, fingers twitching with restrained force. She’s trying to understand, trying to solve this the way she would a problem on the battlefield, yet it's clear she has no idea what to do.

"Lae'zel," you manage, voice barely a whisper. "I—I can't—" The words crumble into silence, and you turn away, feeling an overwhelming need to escape, to be anywhere but here.

But she doesn’t let you. Instead, she steps in front of you, her figure imposing, her expression a mix of irritation and something else, something softer that she would never acknowledge out loud.

"Cease this nonsense," she orders, her tone still sharp. "You are stronger than this. Why are you allowing yourself to be reduced to a trembling wretch?"

You can see her impatience clashing with her own helplessness, the unease in her gaze as she watches you struggle. She wants to fix it, to fight it, but anxiety isn’t an enemy she can face with her blade.

"Lae'zel, I don’t… I don’t know what to do," you finally admit, feeling the words rush out in a painful confession. "Everything feels like—like it’s too much. I can't… I can’t stop it."

Her expression softens, if only slightly, as she processes your words. Her hand hesitantly comes to rest on your shoulder, her grip firm, grounding. She sighs, exasperated, but there’s a trace of something else, a rare tenderness lurking beneath her frustration.

"This… weakness of yours," she mutters, her gaze piercing but not unkind, "it will not conquer you. You are stronger than this."

You swallow, looking down, but her hand tightens on your shoulder, commanding your attention.

"I do not know how to battle something that lives only in your mind," she admits, voice low, almost reluctant. "But I will not let it claim you."

The honesty in her words, the sincerity that she rarely shares, cuts through the haze. She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to help, but she’s here, and she’s not backing away.

"Look at me," she says, her voice softer, less an order and more a plea. "You are not alone, do you hear me? You are… mine." She pauses, the weight of that admission hanging in the air, her hand moving to clasp the back of your neck, fingers steadying.

You nod, taking a shaky breath, feeling some of the tension ease under her touch. Her hand remains firm, anchoring you, and though her expression remains stern, there’s a glimmer of understanding in her eyes.

"If this… feeling attempts to overtake you again," she says, struggling with the words, "know that I am here. And I will not let you fall."

Her words, her strength, they begin to ground you, to steady the spiraling thoughts. It’s not perfect, and she’s still as impatient and brash as ever, but in her own way, she’s offering you solace.

"Thank you," you manage, voice trembling but genuine. Lae'zel huffs, her hand leaving your shoulder with an awkward pat.

"Yes, well, see that you regain your senses soon," she mutters, though her eyes linger on yours, holding a warmth that belies her gruffness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The evening had started peacefully, with you and Shadowheart sharing a quiet moment by the fire, watching embers flicker against the backdrop of the starlit sky. Shadows from the flames danced across her face, lending her beauty a mysterious, ethereal quality. She was curled against you, her head on your shoulder, fingers intertwined with yours, her touch warm and steady. But somewhere in the calm, a ripple of unease began to grow, small and sharp, turning slowly into a twisting, thorny mass of thoughts in your chest.

At first, you tried to ignore it, keeping your breath steady, your hand still wrapped around hers. But the familiar pressure started to mount, your heart drumming an erratic rhythm in your chest, thoughts racing faster than you could tether them. Each breath seemed to get shorter, constricted, your mind and body spiraling in sync.

Shadowheart noticed the change, her fingers stilling in yours as she looked up at you.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice soft, but laced with growing concern.

You tried to nod, tried to answer her, but words lodged themselves in your throat, and a stifling silence stretched out instead. The familiar symptoms crept over you—sweat beading on your forehead, heart hammering, mind racing in a flurry of worst-case scenarios and creeping fears you couldn’t explain. You closed your eyes, trying to drown out the overwhelming rush of it all.

“Hey… look at me.” Shadowheart’s voice was a steady anchor, but even that felt distant, unreachable. She tightened her hold on your hand, shifting to face you fully, her expression growing more worried by the second. “You’re not all right, are you?”

There was a helplessness in her gaze, a deep, worried line creasing her forehead. Shadowheart was no stranger to combat, to wounds and battle scars—but this was different. She couldn’t simply fight off whatever was holding you hostage.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she whispered, squeezing your hand, her other hand reaching to cup your cheek. “Please, tell me how to help you.”

The words barely registered. Your mind was racing too fast, filled with an overwhelming wave of dread and nameless anxieties that seemed to suffocate you from within. Your breath grew shallower, panic clawing at the edges of your awareness. You felt untethered, as though you were floating far from your own body, lost in a sea of dread.

“I… I don’t…” you stammered, struggling to find something, anything to ground yourself.

Shadowheart’s eyes widened, and her hand on your cheek grew firmer, more determined.

“I’m right here,” she murmured, her voice laced with a fierce, protective tone. “Look at me. Just focus on me. Forget everything else.”

But focus seemed impossible, your thoughts spiraling faster and faster, like being caught in a current you couldn’t swim against. You clutched at her hand like a lifeline, but even that felt like it was slipping away, your mind lost in a haze of fear and helplessness.

Shadowheart’s breath hitched, her distress evident.

“I don’t know how to help, but I’m not leaving you,” she whispered, her voice laced with a tremor of frustration—at herself, at this intangible enemy pulling you away from her. “Please, just… keep holding onto me. Try to breathe with me, okay?”

She brought her forehead to rest against yours, closing her eyes, and began to breathe in slow, measured counts, her breaths steady, an anchor in the chaos. She kept her hand on your cheek, her fingers tracing gentle circles against your skin, grounding you in the feeling of her warmth, the solid reality of her presence.

For a long time, you remained caught in the grip of panic, but Shadowheart didn’t waver. She continued to hold you, her voice a constant murmur of reassurance.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe,” she repeated softly, her thumb brushing gently across your cheek. And slowly, so slowly, you began to feel the weight lifting, your breaths aligning with hers, each inhale and exhale pulling you a little closer to the present.

When your breathing finally slowed, the panic ebbing to a dull throb, you opened your eyes, meeting her gaze. Her face was etched with relief and lingering worry, her own breaths still steady but shallow, as if she had been holding them alongside you.

“There you are,” she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips. Her fingers lingered on your cheek, her thumb brushing softly across your skin. “I didn’t know how to help, but… I’m glad you stayed with me.”

You managed a nod, exhausted but grateful, letting her presence soothe you as the last remnants of fear melted away. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, and the weight of her love and care filled the hollow spaces where panic had once dwelled.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The night was still, the crackling of the campfire softened by a light breeze, but it was doing nothing to calm the spiraling chaos in your mind. Your chest was tight, and your breaths came shallow and quick, as if you couldn’t pull in enough air, couldn’t hold enough of it to ground yourself. Panic wrapped its relentless grip around you, twisting with each racing thought. Everything felt unbearably close, as though the walls of the night itself were pressing in on you.

Jaheira had been sitting beside you by the fire, recounting stories of her travels, her words lulling you to a quiet peace until the wave had started to take over. She turned to you, her face creasing with worry as she noticed the change, her warm expression shifting to one of sharp concern.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her tone soft, hands reaching toward yours.

You tried to nod, tried to ground yourself in her gaze, but the pressure in your chest only grew tighter. The world felt unreal, and no matter how much you fought it, your mind kept spiraling—thoughts blending together, fears and memories piling up until everything was a tangled mess of what-ifs and impossible scenarios.

Jaheira’s eyes widened, realizing something was deeply wrong. Her hands, usually so steady and controlled, trembled as she gently cupped your face.

“Look at me,” she urged, her voice gentle but laced with urgency. “Breathe, alright? Slow breaths. Focus on my voice.”

Her hands were warm, grounding in a way, but even her touch couldn’t completely pull you back. Every fiber of you was fighting to calm down, to ease the storm in your mind, but each attempt felt like trying to grasp smoke. The panic felt endless, and you could see the worry deepen in Jaheira’s eyes as you struggled to respond.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly as she glanced around as if seeking an answer in the shadows of the trees. “Please, just… breathe with me, alright? We’ll get through this.”

Her distress tugged at you, piercing through the haze just enough to make you feel guilty for causing her pain, but even that seemed to add to the spiral. You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to fight back the rising tide of panic, but it was no use. The tighter you tried to hold on, the harder it was to breathe, and soon you were gasping, fingers digging into the ground as if holding on to something solid could somehow anchor you.

Jaheira shifted closer, wrapping her arms around you, pulling you tightly against her.

“Please, love, come back to me,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re safe. Just stay with me.”

There was a desperation in her tone that broke through, her words pressing into the heart of the storm inside you. She was grounding herself in trying to ground you, holding you with a fierce tenderness, her arms strong and unyielding, as if her very presence could keep the panic from consuming you whole. Her fingers gently traced patterns across your back, her breath steady and even as she held you close.

“You’re safe,” she repeated, each word soft and deliberate. “I know it feels overwhelming, but it will pass. Just focus on my voice. I’m right here.”

Little by little, her words began to take root, the pressure loosening in your chest as you leaned into her touch. She kept whispering softly, her words a steady thread that you latched onto, pulling yourself out of the spiral, inch by inch.

After a few minutes, the panic began to ebb, replaced by a heavy exhaustion. Jaheira’s hands never left you, her touch constant and reassuring, her fingers tracing gentle circles on your back as she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

When you finally looked up, her face was tear-streaked, her expression full of relief and love.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice raw and shaky. Jaheira shook her head, a faint, tearful smile breaking through as she held you tighter.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she replied, her tone full of quiet conviction. “I’d face a thousand battles for you… I’ll face this one too. I don’t care how hard it is, how lost you feel. I’ll be here, every time.”

Her words sank in, a warmth settling in the hollow ache that the panic had left behind. You buried your face against her shoulder, letting her words, her presence, become your anchor.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

It started as a low tremor in your chest—a tiny thread of worry that, on most days, might pass unnoticed. But tonight, under the quiet candlelight and warmth of Gale’s study, it begins to unfurl, insidious, growing with every heartbeat until you’re barely breathing, barely aware of anything but the constriction in your chest, the overwhelming feeling that something is very wrong.

The book in your hands slips to the floor with a soft thud, but it sounds like a thunderclap to your frayed nerves. You clutch the edge of the armrest, struggling for air, unable to quite ground yourself in the room, in the moment.

“Hey… Are you alright?” Gale’s voice breaks through, sounding far off despite his closeness. You can hear the alarm creeping into his tone, and when he moves closer, kneeling beside you, his hands hover uncertainly in the air as though he’s afraid to touch you, unsure of what might help. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

You want to answer, to say anything, but the words knot up in your throat. Each inhale feels like it could be your last, shallow and jagged, and all you can do is try to gasp for air that never seems to fully come.

Panic flickers in Gale's eyes, an emotion so rarely seen in him. He reaches out, gently brushing his fingers over your shoulder, and then, with more urgency, taking your hand in his.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, even though he’s clearly just as frightened. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You look at him, his face swimming in your vision, distorted by the intensity of your anxiety. A silent tear slips down your cheek, and the sight of it seems to make him crumble. Gale has seen you in battle, in moments of joy and sorrow, but this—this paralyzing, quiet fear—is something entirely new.

“I don’t know what to do, love,” he whispers, voice trembling as he brushes your hair back, his thumb grazing your cheek, catching another tear as it falls. “Just… tell me how to help.”

“I—” Your voice catches, barely a whisper, almost inaudible. “I don’t… I can’t…”

“I’m here,” he repeats, his words soft but determined. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” His hands find yours again, holding them firmly as though his touch alone might be enough to anchor you, to pull you back from the edge.

As the minutes pass, Gale settles beside you on the floor, crossing his legs, staying as close as he can without overwhelming you. His gaze doesn’t waver, fixed on you with a quiet intensity, like he’s willing his calmness to wash over you, to lend you even a sliver of the steadiness that you desperately need.

"Try to breathe with me, alright?" he says after a moment, keeping his voice steady and low, a soft, warm undertone that you can just barely latch onto. "One breath at a time. In, and then out. I’ll do it with you."

You try to focus on him, on the cadence of his words, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he inhales deeply and then lets it out in a slow, measured release. In and out. Over and over. And gradually, your breaths begin to mirror his, hesitant at first but then finding a shaky kind of sync.

Minutes pass in silence, with Gale whispering quiet reassurances, his fingers tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand. He stays close, his presence a grounding force, his warmth beginning to break through the fog.

When the weight in your chest finally begins to ease, your breaths evening out, Gale’s face softens, relief flashing in his eyes as he catches your gaze.

“You’re alright,” he murmurs, leaning in closer. “We’re alright.”

You nod, swallowing back a fresh wave of emotion, this time not from fear but from the tenderness in his voice, the unwavering patience in his gaze.

Gale raises a hand to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek, his own eyes glassy with tears of shared relief. "I was… so afraid," he admits, voice thick. "I’ve never seen you like this. I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing."

“You did… just right,” you whisper, the words rough but sincere. You lean into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

He smiles softly, and the tension in his shoulders melts, replaced by an aching tenderness. “Anytime you need, I’ll be here,” he says. “For as long as you want me.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The night air was heavy, pressing in as you sat by the dying embers of the campfire, your chest tight and breaths shallow. You weren’t even sure when the panic had crept in, only that it was there now, spreading like wildfire. The familiar, suffocating weight of anxiety had taken root, pushing thoughts out of control and magnifying every minor fear into something insurmountable.

Astarion was the first to notice, his usual playful smirk replaced by a look of deepening concern. He took a step closer, his sharp eyes studying you as if searching for some sign he could decipher. You could tell he was trying to mask his worry, but his brow was furrowed, and his hands fidgeted by his sides.

"Love?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with tension. "What's happening? What’s… what’s wrong?"

You tried to respond, but your throat felt closed, as if something tangible were lodged there, blocking any words from escaping. Your mind was awash with racing thoughts, each one louder and more pressing than the last, spiraling faster and faster until you felt lost in the noise.

Astarion reached out, hesitating as though unsure of what to do or how to help, his hand hovering before finally resting lightly on your shoulder. "Hey… Look at me, please. Whatever this is, you’re not alone. I’m here."

But you couldn’t meet his gaze, your eyes fixed downward, hands gripping your knees in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. The fear clawed at you, telling you things would never be alright, that you’d be forever trapped in this choking panic. You could feel Astarion’s fingers tighten, his voice growing sharper with unease.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. You heard him curse under his breath, the usual mask of bravado slipping away to reveal a vulnerability he rarely showed. He seemed almost frantic, as if desperately trying to piece together what was happening.

A moment later, he lowered himself beside you, his voice gentler, softer. “Listen. Please, listen to me, alright? You don’t have to say anything, but… I need you to hear me.”

You gave a small, involuntary nod, still struggling to focus on anything outside the panic raging inside you. Astarion took a shaky breath, reaching out to take your hand in his. His grip was uncharacteristically warm, steadying, the weight of it something solid to anchor you to the present.

“This feeling, whatever it is… it won’t last forever,” he said, his tone steadying, as if willing it to be true. “I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but just… try to breathe with me, alright? One breath at a time.”

His voice was calm, even if his expression was anything but. You could see the worry etched in his face, the faint tremor in his hand that betrayed his own anxiety. But he kept speaking, his voice low and unwavering, grounding you with each word.

“Just follow my breath. In… and out,” he whispered, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve spent years in the dark, chained to my own mind, and… and I don’t know how to take away your pain. I want to. But for now… let me be here.”

His words cut through the fog of your mind, just enough to remind you that you weren’t alone. His hand squeezed yours, the slight pressure a reminder of his presence, steady and constant. Gradually, painfully, you tried to match his breaths, focusing on the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hand in yours.

Astarion’s fingers brushed over your knuckles, his touch delicate as if you were something fragile he feared might break. “Whatever darkness you’re feeling, I’ll stay right here. I swear it. And when you’re ready, I’ll help you put the pieces back together.”

The sincerity in his voice was a balm, easing the sharp edges of panic that had gripped you. It was strange, seeing him so unguarded, so openly vulnerable. He stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours, his presence a lifeline through the worst of the storm. For once, he wasn’t hiding behind humor or bravado; he was simply there, raw and real, with you in your fear.

Slowly, your breaths evened, the crushing weight in your chest loosening just enough for you to draw in a full breath. Astarion noticed immediately, a glimmer of relief softening his expression. His thumb traced slow, soothing circles on the back of your hand, his voice a quiet murmur.

“There you are,” he whispered, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “One breath at a time. And I’ll be here, through all of it.”

You managed a small, grateful smile, squeezing his hand in return. For once, words felt unnecessary. Just the quiet presence of him beside you, his unwavering loyalty, was enough. And as the remnants of fear finally ebbed away, you leaned into him, letting yourself be held, comforted by the knowledge that, with him, you were never alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The first sign is a subtle tremor in your hands, just barely visible, but enough that you feel the prickle of dread in the pit of your stomach. You can’t seem to get a full breath in, your chest tight and shallow as though your lungs are pressing up against a wall. You try to steady yourself, forcing a long inhale and focusing on the quiet rhythm of the camp around you—the distant crackle of the fire, the murmur of voices.

But it doesn’t help. The edges of your vision start to blur, and your thoughts are racing, slipping through your grip like sand.

Wyll is the first to notice, his keen eyes catching the slight shake in your hands, the way your gaze is unfocused. He’s by your side in an instant, worry written in every line of his face as he crouches down, his hand hovering near your shoulder, hesitant.

“Hey, love… Are you all right?” His voice is soft, careful, but it only makes your anxiety spike higher.

You try to speak, to reassure him that you’re fine, that it’s nothing, but the words stick in your throat, tangled and heavy. The more you try to grasp at them, the more they slip away, leaving you fumbling in silence, feeling the wave of panic rise higher and higher.

Wyll’s face changes, his brows knitting together as he takes in the silence, the unsteady breath you’re forcing through clenched teeth.

“Okay, all right…” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, his fingers reaching out tentatively to rest on your arm. “I’m here. Whatever’s going on, I’m right here.”

You’re barely able to nod, the gesture feeling stiff and unnatural, your muscles locked in tension. A small part of you wants to pull away, to hide this unraveling from him, but you can’t move, trapped in a fog of your own spiraling thoughts.

Wyll swallows, clearly unsettled, but he doesn’t pull away. His hand is warm and steady against your arm, grounding even as your mind spins further out of control. He leans closer, voice steady but laced with a faint tremor. “Tell me what you need. Anything, I’ll do it. Just… tell me how to help.”

But you can’t; the words are gone, buried beneath the weight of your anxiety, the way it presses against your chest like a vice. You’re lost in a spiral, every thought louder and more overwhelming than the last, each one feeding into the next in a relentless loop.

You close your eyes, shaking your head slightly, as if that might shake loose the panic.

Wyll’s hand tightens, his grip firm and reassuring even in his own uncertainty. He takes a slow, measured breath, almost as if he’s trying to model it for you, trying to lead you into his rhythm.

“I… I don’t know if this’ll help,” he says, his voice low and soft. “But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me.”

He inches closer, one hand tentatively reaching for yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. The steady warmth of his touch breaks through the fog just enough to let you catch a hint of reality, a reminder of something outside the panic. You try to focus on it, letting the sensation ground you.

Your breath is still shallow, your thoughts still racing, but Wyll doesn’t falter. He keeps his hand over yours, murmuring soft reassurances, his voice steady and calm even as his own anxiety edges into his expression.

Slowly, the crushing pressure in your chest begins to lessen, the loop of thoughts beginning to lose its hold. You focus on Wyll’s touch, his thumb tracing patterns over your hand, the way he murmurs softly, keeping his words gentle and unobtrusive, as though he’s trying not to startle you.

“I’m right here,” he says again, and this time, you’re able to feel it—his presence, solid and unwavering, cutting through the haze. “I’ll be right here until you’re ready. No rush.”

Bit by bit, you begin to anchor yourself to his words, letting them replace the racing thoughts. The fog clears slowly, your breathing evening out as you match the rhythm of his. Finally, you open your eyes to see him watching you, his gaze soft with worry and relief.

He lets out a small, shaky breath, a hand lifting to gently brush your hair back, his fingers lingering as though to remind you he’s still there.

“You don’t ever have to go through that alone,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with quiet determination. “I’m here, for whatever you need. Always.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The evening had begun with a rare stillness, a gentle calm woven through the golden light filtering into the small clearing you and Halsin had found to spend time together. He was humming as he tended to a fire, casting a glance your way every so often, a warm, gentle smile playing on his lips. But tonight, something felt off in your chest, a faint unease that had begun as a nagging, restless energy, yet had quietly grown until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Without warning, that unease blossomed into something sharper and more consuming. Your thoughts tangled and twisted, each one splintering into two, then four, until your mind felt like a mass of fraying threads. Your breaths became short and shallow, each one catching at the back of your throat. The forest around you blurred, the steady shapes of trees and flowers dissolving into a rush of shadowed green, and Halsin’s humming, usually so soothing, only seemed to crowd your senses further.

“Are you alright?” His voice, deep and familiar, brought you back just enough to make you realize that your hands were trembling. He was watching you with concern, his warm brow furrowing as he took a step closer.

You tried to answer, but your voice caught, nothing more than a thin rasp. Panic welled up, the edges of your vision growing dim as every part of you wanted to escape, to run from this terrible feeling clawing through your chest.

“My heart,” he said, more softly, kneeling beside you, his hand reaching for yours, but stopping just before it touched. “Something’s wrong. Please, just breathe with me.”

It was so Halsin, so typically him to stay calm and grounded. But you could only manage a tight, frantic shake of your head as the feeling kept surging, as if it were swallowing you whole. His face fell, an unusual worry clouding his eyes.

“How can I help? Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he pleaded softly, his voice straining with his own rising concern.

You could feel his helplessness, the confusion behind his eyes. You wanted to reach out, to tell him it would pass, that you’d be fine, but the words slipped away. The worry on his face only sharpened your own distress, a dull ache forming in your chest.

He leaned back, taking a deep breath as if grounding himself for the both of you. Gently, he moved to sit closer, keeping his posture open, his eyes gentle yet alert.

“I’m here,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “I’m not leaving.”

The world still felt like it was closing in, but something about his words, his sheer presence, gave you a fragile tether to cling to. You focused on his voice, letting the deep, familiar cadence of it wash over you. Slowly, achingly, your breathing began to match his, pulling in slower, steadier breaths.

“I don’t know what this is like for you,” he continued softly, watching you intently, his voice even as if he didn’t want to disrupt the rhythm you were building. “But I want to understand. I want to help. You don’t have to hide it, not with me.”

You felt the tremor in his words, the sheer sincerity. The weight of them, the softness, eased the tightness in your chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on his presence, his warmth beside you, the smell of the earth and pine that always seemed to linger around him.

After a few more breaths, you managed to reach out, fingers brushing against his hand. He stilled, his eyes searching yours, and then his fingers wrapped carefully around yours. The warmth of his hand grounded you, gave you something real to hold onto.

“You’re safe here,” he said gently. “Whatever you’re feeling, whatever it is—there’s no need to run from it. Not with me here. We can face it together.”

The gentle reassurance was enough to anchor you, enough to let the pounding in your chest ebb just a little. You squeezed his hand, and his answering squeeze felt like a lifeline.

Slowly, he guided you, taking steady breaths in time with yours, whispering soft encouragements and gentle reassurances until the world around you began to settle, and the vice in your chest loosened. The rush of sensations gradually dulled, leaving only Halsin’s presence beside you, solid and comforting, his thumb brushing over your hand in gentle, soothing circles.

When you finally managed to meet his gaze, the worry in his eyes had softened into an expression of deep, unyielding care. He reached up with his free hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and grounding.

“I am here for you, always,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Whatever you need. If there’s anything I can do… I will.”

With a weak, grateful smile, you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand against yours, and finally, the world felt a little safer, a little more steady, simply because he was by your side.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

oof bit of a heavy one, but I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

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

[darkmold]

BG3 characters + mundane parenting because I’m mental illness coded

Warnings: babies I guess, it’s not specified how they and Tav acquired the baby (could’ve been theft), I liked this lemme know if anyone wants an npc edition, got depressed on Karlach’s entry oops-

Astarion

He requires very little sleep, so he’s typically on nightshift with the baby. If the little one fusses, he’d rather be the one to handle it than have his poor, tired partner wake up. Sometimes if the baby is being particularly clingy or petulant, he’ll take one of that week’s sewing projects into the nursery to keep himself entertained while he sits by their crib. Sewing project is usually a new garment for the baby- they grow too fast to keep up with.

Halsin

Halsin has wanted kids for so long but never allowed himself to settle down. You know he’s never putting that baby down. Carries them in a sling all day long sometimes just because he’s so thrilled to be a papa. It’s an honor to show them the world.

He would never pass up a chance to spend time with them. He knew having children would be require effort, and he’s fully prepared to be active.

Gale

When his partner is out and he’s left with the baby, he quickly realizes he’s not half as good at getting them to stop crying as they are. He tries everything that usually works- bouncing, feeding, changing, etc., but soon finds that the quickest way to soothe them is by using his voice. Gale runs out of things to say, which results in him carrying the baby around the tower and just explaining various objects.

“See? The metal points are called the ‘hands’. The big hand represents how many minutes have passed, and the little hand represents how many hours have passed…”

Wyll

Reads to his child every night. It was rare that Ulder had the time to, but he remembers his nursemaid reading to him frequently. It’s important to him that his baby get that experience. Plus, maybe it will encourage them to read more when they’re older? There are lots of good stories out there including the ones about their cool dad

Karlach

Keeps to tradition any chance she gets. She wants her kids to grow up like she did- with family gatherings, and sun melon slices, and stupid inside jokes. She wants her babies to know what home feels like. One day, the memory might be all they have left.

Some of her favorite memories growing up were of birthdays. They didn’t have a lot of money for presents, but her dad always baked sweet rolls, which is one tradition she’s not giving up on anytime soon.

[meowsgirldrawing]

The Elf yer crazy for and he knows it~ (Astarion X Tav)

Bonus💜❤️

I like his squishy face hehehehe

[madschiavelique]

If your request is still open and if you're comfortable with it can I ask for Halsin, Gale, Astarion, Gortash and Raphael on thier wedding night with thier fem S/O?

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ characters : halsin, gale, astarion, gortash, raphael

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : mostly fluff, implied nsfw but nothing explicit, no use of y/n, fem!reader

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 1,2k (235~ for each characters)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ author's note : love i'm so sorry this took so long but school is eating me tf out (and not in the way i'd rather it to be done)

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ halsin :

Your wedding takes place in the Grove, decorations adorning the pillars and the fountain. The fireflies waltzed gently through the air, the weather was mild, Spring had arrived and the trees were in bloom. Of course the wedding would take place during the season of love.

Halsin wears a set of traditional Druid robes, his hair loose and braided with rosemary and lavender, his brown locks seeming to be the real earth that grows them.

His bare feet dig their heels into the fresh earth as his eyes landed on you.

Your hair was loose and held in beautiful waves with little flowers set into it. You were wearing a traditional druidic dress, the shades matching Halsin's outfit perfectly.

Silvanus had more than blessed him; he felt touched by his personal grace to have you as his eternal partner.

After exchanging your vows, you were drowned in a shower of petals from various flowers, all smiling as you kissed.

Everyone was dancing and an all-you-can-eat buffet was on display. Your chairs were the ground, the rocks and the steps leading up to the grove from the fountain.

When you and Halsin escaped the festivities, you found no bridal bed of feathers and straws, but headed for the forest.

In a clearing sheltered from view, a witch's circle covered in moss and flowers awaited you.

Man or Bear, this night was set to be unforgettable for you both.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ gale :

Gale had embellished an entire room, the powers of the Weave bringing an atmosphere and aesthetic beyond imagination.

Wisteria rained down from the endless ceiling, particles of violet, blue and golden light twirled in the air, bringing smiles to every body they touched.

Gale wore superb violet robes, had on his most beautiful earrings, his beard coated with sweet, spicy-scented oils.

The guests didn't need to be many, but all Gale's acquaintances and yours were there, and that was enough for you.

When you arrived, your dress was light, silk and crystal organza mingling like flower petals to trail your steps.

Your vows were exchanged, and with a smile he kissed you to the cheers of all around.

The surrounding area was transformed into a glade, the stars shining like diamonds on a blanket of blue velvet. Fairies flitted here and there, and you and Gale were lying on a set of soft rugs, chatting about everything and nothing over bunches of grapes and other fruit.

The atmosphere was a perfect reminder of your first night, in the forest, the milky way crossing the night like a multicoloured ribbon. Just the two of you.

Just the two of you? You turned your eyes, and the guests were gone, and the surroundings had changed again. A little teleportation, and you'd found yourselves in a bed, smiling and warm-skinned.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ astarion :

If there was one point of honour Astarion was counting on, it was that your wedding took place before sunset and continued through the night until he took you to bed at sunrise.

Everything was surrounded by jewels, gold and silver at the request of Astarion, who hoped that this extravagant organisation would make the sun shine all around him and the guests.

Cazador manor had abandoned its coldness to welcome the warmth of the many guests, wine in their bellies, and laughter exploding in every corridor.

Astarion was elegantly dressed, having personally chosen the fabrics for his black, white and red attire.

The crowd fell silent as you descended the steps leading to the main hall, your dress and veil a gradation of white to red to black. If Astarion still had a heartbeat, he was sure it would have stopped in its tracks.

Your vows were exchanged as the sun crossed the horizon, and the party resumed in earnest.

The whole night was spent waltzing around, laughing as Astarion told you jokes about every guest present, and downing flutes of champagne bubbling with excitement.

When dawn came, he didn't waste a single second taking you in his arms, carrying you like a princess to the door of your quarters.

Your heart beat in unison as the sun peeked through your curtains and flooded Astarion's face in a warm caress between your thighs.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ gortash :

the event was inevitably gigantic. The whole town was to cease its day's activities, abandon its work and come to the castle to celebrate.

All the best pastry chefs and cooks had been requisitioned by his orders to offer as much variety as possible in the dishes. The event was so grand that it made you wonder whether Gortash would not take the opportunity to make this a public holiday, a day of celebration for all in honour of your union.

Of course, Gortash had paid who knows how many gold coins for the best stylists he could find to make his outfit and yours.

He smiled courteously at the guests in the throne room, always mindful of the need to forge links and do business.

But these thoughts soon faded from his mind as you entered the room, dressed all in white, the very incarnation of purity and perfection before his eyes.

Your vows were exchanged, and a thunderous applause filled the room as the bells rang outside. You both left the château, the crowd throwing rice and petals into the air as you entered your carriage.

He would have loved to let the whole castle know that night that you were his wife, but he had built a house away from everyone where you could properly consummate your love.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ raphael :

The House of Hope has never been so full of demons and guests of honour. I mean hell, the entirety of the Nines have been invited in here. You even wondered how the marble hadn't crumbled since then just by the sheer number of people here. But by some trick that has escaped you, just for this occasion, everything has been enlarged.

Raphael's wings have been covered in jewels, fine golden chains set with precious stones running around the edges of his wings, bracelets gleaming on the horns of his skull as he adorned the most elegant robes the underworld had to offer.

All the decadence of the underworld ceased for just a few moments as you descended the stairs to the main hall, Raphael's dark eyes covering your entire body.

You were wearing his colours in one of the most sumptuous outfits he had ever seen, and for this he had put all the best stylists on the case.

It was without doubt the most expensive wedding in centuries, and Raphael would probably have been furious if it hadn't been.

The vows were exchanged, and it took every ounce of the demon's strength not to rip off every bit of fabric separating your skin from his hands.

Fortunately for him, he didn't have to respect any marriage rules, certainly not in the underworld or in his own home.

It didn't take him long to kiss the back of your neck and for you to disappear in a dark cloud to the roars of joy from the guests.

halsin, gale, astarion, gortash, raphael

[pursuitseternal]

WIP Wednesday 🥵

A little something spicy to keep you alive

From a gift for Stacey Monroe on Twt and BlueSky

Tagging: @nyx-knox @marimosalad @astarionancuntnin @charmandabear @tragedybunny @vixstarria @snowfolly @kittenintheden @brain-rot-central @ghostfire @pinkberrytea @marlowethebard @scrapsovereign

[astarioffsimpmain]

The Cozy Up Series

Week 1:

Astarion

Week 2:

Gale

Week 3:

Halsin

Week 4:

Wyll

Week 5:

Raphael

Week 6:

Ascended Astarion

Week 7:

Lae'zel

Week 8:

Shadowheart

Week 9:

Karlach

[yourdailyangel]

I was wondering if you could write astarion with an extremely shy Tav who has a hard time speaking up for themselves

Aww of course! Thank you for the ask!

I kinda did a reaction and a bit of a headcanon? I do hope that's okay! But please enjoy!

❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️

°Astarion hasn't really ever had an issue with expressing his opinion about something.

°So when he first joins your little group he instantly picks up how shy you are!

°In a way he finds it oddly adorable!

°But he also knows your shyness means others may try and take advantage

°This is something astarion just cannot allow y/n!

°All this being said now...

°He's quick to jump in situations when you can't seem to handle it

°I've said this many many times but astarion will NOT let you get picked on

°He's very very protective!

°Now if you're speaking to HIM and you get shy well... It's just adorable to him!

°You? Get shy? Because of him? Aww y/n!!

°But for reals you never have to worry about him making fun of you or even allowing someone else to!

❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️

One night at tavern, you and the group decided to rest there for the night as it was currently raining.

Astarion was off talking to gale about some crazy fight you previously had. You had went up to get everyone some warm food and something to drink.

As you were telling the barkeep what you wanted, this burley man walks with a cocky attitude up to you.

"Hey beautiful what's something like you doin up here All by yourself?" You try to push his words away because you didn't want to argue tonight, you were tired and soaked from the cold rain from outside.

"Aw what's wrong beautiful? Can't speak?" With a chuckle he reaches his hand out to play with some fabric on your clothes, this made you VERY uncomfortable so you told him "I-i'm sorry I'm t-taken." You tried to make yourself sound... Bigger? But all the man did was laugh, so you turned away and tried to focus on the barkeep.

Meanwhile atstarion has been watching the whole time.

So as you turn around to bring everything to the table you noticed an empty seat, scouting the bar you see astarion walking up behind the man.

"Excuse me nasty little thing but I'm afraid if you speak to my darling ever again I will have to decorate the ground with your innards"

You stand there kind of shocked, the man turns around to try and pop off to him but stays silent, "Hm?" Astarion grins just slightly at the mans reaction, "Whatever" the man storms off

Atstarion walks up to you holding out both hands. "well darling you can't carry everything"

You giggle and give him a kiss on the cheek.

A way of simply showing love but also a silent way of thanking him!

With everything calm now you and astarion make your way to the table and everyone eats and laughs for the rest of the night!

[libbybee]

NOCTURNAL INVITATION — SA.

summary: under the moonlight and the stillness of the forest, astarion and you seek intimacy away from camp. warnings: MDNI 18+, female!rogue!reader, vampire spawn astarion, shameless smut, porn without plot, masturbation [F], fingering [F], rough oral sex [F], love bites (no fangs), sweet talk, praise, pussy slap, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, squirt, overstimulation. wc: 2.2K+

ㅤMASTERLIST. IMAGE.

a/n: english isn't my native language, sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

‎

The rain had fallen recently, leaving the earth rich with the scent of damp moss and fresh leaves. And there, amidst the whisper of leaves and the cool touch of the earth beneath them, the forest became your private hideaway far from the bustle of camp.

Astarion had suggested it with that familiar, easy smile: “somewhere a bit more... intimate.” You’d just smiled and nodded, excited as you slipped away together in the night, knowing the others wouldn’t question the disappearance. After all, even the rogues needed a break now and then, right?

“Why don’t you slip those off, love?” He said smoothly, nodding towards your pyjama trousers. “I want nothing in my way.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning reluctance. “Impatient, are we?”

He smirked, running a hand along your hip. “Patience has never been my strong suit,” he replied, his eyes urging you. “Now, darling, off with them and sit.”

You obliged, taking off your trousers and tossing them aside as you leaned back against a tree, your bare legs meeting the cool, damp grass. Astarion’s gaze followed your movements with a faint look of approval, his lips curving into a smile as he took his place between your thighs.

He wrapped his hands firmly around your thighs, spreading them open slowly to savour the view with a satisfied smile and a predatory gaze. His fingers stroked your flesh, his touch unhurried as though he had all the time in the world. When his lips found the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, they started to press sloppy kisses there, the suction of his lips leaving marks with some sucking sounds.

His fingertips drifted along your thighs as his mouth continued its path to his hidden prize, nibbling gently to playfully pull your flesh.

Slowly, he pulled one thigh closer to bring it over his shoulder as he closed his eyes and pressed a sensual kiss to the soft skin just beside your knee, then higher, letting a series of intoxicating rubs of lips and tongue that raced the pulse in your clit. The heat of his breath reached the edge of your panties, and he paused, reopening his ruby eyes to lock onto yours. A flirtatious smile tugged at his lips as he took in the sight of the damp spot in the middle where your pussy is—evidence of your desire for him.

“My, my...” He purred, tracing along the edge of your underwear with his fingers, letting them skim just enough to tease you. “It seems I’ve quite the effect on you, haven’t I, darling?” His words were laced with delight, and his hand slipped lower, his palm maddeningly caressing the damp fabric covering your sensitive area and his fingers your clit.

Then, his mouth followed suit, inching closer as he continued his unhurried exploration, pressing kisses along your inner thigh, each one more provocatively close to where you wanted him. His lips finally hovered just above the wetness at the centre of your panties, causing the warmth of his breath alone to send a pulse of need through your entire pussy.

When he leaned down to place a deliberate kiss right over the damp spot, it felt electrifying, his lips gliding up to your clit through the fabric. His gaze flicked up to meet yours; the intensity in his eyes was as sharp as always but filled with a sense of hunger you hadn't seen before.

Then, his fingers skimmed the fabric at your hips before slipping under it to slow and tortuously move it aside to uncover his treasure, drinking in the sensual sight before him: your delicious pussy still pale from the cold and your labia majora pleasantly wet, slightly hiding your clitoris. “Look at you…” He whispered. “I wonder if you’ve imagined this already...” The pad of his thumb stroked over your slit from bottom to top in a light stroke, exposing your clit and entrance fully to him when he parted your lips.

Astarion’s white hair spilt over his forehead as he nestled between your thighs to lower his mouth. His supple lips brushed over your clit, warmly and lazy, pressing a slow, wet kiss that made your vision blur momentarily when he sucked it just in the perfect spot, then pressed another. His tongue slipped out, tracing a lazy circle all around your knot of nerves with the tip before he lapped it fully to taste the jolt he drew from your hips.

He looked up through hooded eyes with a mischievous gleam as he absorbed your reaction. “Ah, so deliciously undone already, my dear...” He purred, vibrating against your clit. “And we’re only getting started.” His thumb stroked just above your entrance but never quite pushing.

His tongue smoothed all your pussy with practiced ease as he continued with deliberate patterns that left you sighing. Every twirling of his tongue, every sucking, was measured like he was enjoying the effect he had on you. His free hand slipped beneath your shirt to find your breast and grab it to knead your flesh, brushing his thumb over your nipple to send another pulse of a new heat through your chest.

Giving another sloppy kiss directly over your clit with just the right pressure to make your hips jerk before parting his lips to bite it slightly, tugging gently before wrapping his mouth around your pussy completely. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked for the pressure, contaminating the silence of the night with his lewd mouth sounds.

Then he pulled back to admire his work; your clit was all red, deliciously puffing up and gleaming with his saliva. A wicked smile spread on his lips before he delivered a sharp slap to it, making you gasp and throw your head back against the tree, only to lean in and spit directly onto your clit. With two fingers, he brought the wetness down to your entrance to push them inside your tight ring without a moment’s warning, his eyes fixed on your reaction as his knuckle deep-fingers penetrated you.

“Astarion!” You gasped as he let you barely a moment able to catch your breath. “Warn me before you do that!”

He raised an eyebrow, widening his smirk as he pushed his fingers deeper, thrusting them more rapidly without any hint of hesitation. “And spoil the fun? I think not, darling.” He said while his fingers pumped into you harder now, causing sparks of pleasure through your entire pussy. “And I’d suggest you to keep that lovely mouth of yours quiet.” He added with a teasing lilt, “Unless, of course, you want the others back at camp to think I’m killing you out here.”

As he kept the rhythm of his fingers, he lowered his mouth again to take care of your delicate pussy with it, lavishing attention on your puffy clit. He alternated between teasing flicks of his tongue side to side and hard suckers, making your cunt quiver and your walls tighten. The combined sensations of his fingers pumping in and out while his mouth was doing a wonderful oral ministration sent you spiralling toward ecstasy faster than you expected.

“You’re absolutely delectable, my love…” He praised, the sound of his voice mingling with the slick noises of his fingers fucking your gripping, soaked entrance. His fingers curled up inside you, brushing against that delicate spot that made your pelvis roll, your thighs almost close around his head, and drown out all coherent thoughts that could still be in your mind as your eyes rolled back.

You were simply lost in the feelings, your whole body responding to him subconsciously as your hips moved in sync with his thrusts, urging him to fuck you deeper and deeper. “Astarion…” Your lips whimpered, trembling, feeling the tension build inside your lower belly. He only increased his pace, his fingers moving faster, his mouth sucking, and tugging at your sensitive clit with eager intensity.

His lips closed around your little bud to suck it completely one last time before pulling away just enough to speak. “Just a little more, darling.” He whispered against you. “Are you going to squirt for me, aren't you?”

His question made you realise that you had never squirted before, yet the sensations he was drawing from you woke up feelings in your body that were utterly foreign. You nodded shyly, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you bit your lower lip, unsure if you could truly reach that goal. But your tightness around his fingers only intensified with each thrust, a constant pulse in your belly urging you towards release.

He grinned wickedly, his fingers relentless as he pumped in and out of you with a pace that felt like pure magic. “Let go, my love... Just for me...” His words were sultry while coaxing you. He could sense the sudden change in your walls, how they vibrated and pulsed around him, the way they clenched, and the way your respiration hitched in your throat.

With each thrust of his fingers, you felt the pressure coil tighter and tighter. “Astarion, I’m—” You gasped, feeling an unfamiliar rush of heat pooling in your pussy, an overwhelming sensation that threatened to consume you to a breaking level. He caressed your inner thigh with his cheek, letting his lips brush to press a kiss against your soft flesh as he whispered, “Hush... Let it happen, my beautiful...”

The surrounding forest faded away as the tension reached its peak as his words resonated in you. Your breath quickened and hitched, making uncontrolled moans escape your lips as your heart raced. With each of his relentless thrusts against your G-spot, the barrier broke, and the pleasure erupted through your cunt like a massive tsunami, crashing over your senses in a surge of bliss and ecstasy.

You squirted, your body trembling violently as your hips spasmed, waves of pleasure flooding every inch of your being. A torrent of fiery liquid poured from within your insides, wetting his hand and splattering against his lips. “Astarion!” You cried out in a shaky voice, whelmed by the intensity of the climax he gifted you. Your body writhed, thighs quaking on either side of his head as he continued to overstimulate your very sensitive cunt, coaxing every last spurt of your climax from your quivering core.

Astarion, ever the attentive lover, savoured every drop, his lips glistening as you drenched him in your sweetness. “Such a good girl…” He praised in a murmur, licking his lips clean before pulling back slightly to admire you; you were a testament to the exquisite ecstasy he could provide so easily. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk while appreciating your flushed cheeks and your trembling, sweet body as if he were a connoisseur appreciating a fine vintage.

Before you knew it, the wave of pleasure had ebbed just to leave a torrent of embarrassment in its wake. Your cheeks burnt as you became fully aware of the state you were in—utterly exposed and vulnerable after cumming all over his mouth. Instinctively, you tried to cover yourself with your hands and the hem of your shirt, trying to hide your swollen, glistening centre from his view.

Astarion caught your hands with a gentle but firm grip, stopping you mid-motion. He looked up at you with a mixture of affection and amusement. “Now, now, darling.” He purred lowly to soothe you. “Don’t hide from me. Not after a display as exquisite as that.”

Before you could protest, he lowered himself once more to press a loving kiss just above your still-sensitive clit. His lips were incredibly soft, and the warmth of his breath sent a final heat through you, igniting embers of pleasure that still smouldered beneath the surface of your skin.

Then, satisfied, he sighed and pulled back to rise gracefully from the grass with a playful smirk. “A memory to treasure.” He remarked, adjusting the collar of his shirt with casual elegance. “You really are a vision, love.”

Still somewhat embarrassed but determined, you get on your knees, catching him by his trousers. With a smirk, you give him a flirtatious look. “Not so fast... You don’t think I’m just letting you walk away after that, do you?” You say while your fingers make their way to his waistband. “I think it’s only fair I return the favour.”

He raised a brow, intrigued, his smirk widening as he glanced down at your hands resting on his waistband. “Oh? So bold all of a sudden.” He remarked low and velvet-smooth; still, he made no move to stop you. Actually, he seemed perfectly willing to let you do whatever you desired.

As your fingers delicately slipped down his trousers, he let out a pleased hum, tilting your chin up with his hand to let your gaze meet his. “You really are full of surprises, aren’t you, darling?” He murmured, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb in a tender gesture. “I was beginning to think I’d utterly drained you.”

With a smirk, you pressed a kiss to his thumb, never breaking eye contact. “You’ll find I’m quite resilient...” You replied with playful defiance. Slowly, you let your lips trail down his thumb to his palm.

He chuckled, clearly delighted by your eagerness. “Then by all means.” He purred, his fingers threading into your hair as he gazed down at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Be my guest...”

‎

[moonselune]

The boys with a satyr tav who's like. Such an angsty little guy, but they figure out he's been through a LOT of life. Used to he a king, a pirate, the whole shibang. Only reason he was even in Baldur's gate is bc he was going through a bad breakup with the queen of said far away land, one she didn't take too well.

ahaha i do love the trope of 'powerful scorned ex' there's something so intoxicating about it

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The city lights of Baldur's Gate cast long, wavering shadows over your night as you sit beside Gale at the edge of a bustling square, feeling its music and laughter pulse around you. Though you’re surrounded by revelry, your mind drifts, unfurling memories of past adventures and conquests—empires seized, ships stormed, castles claimed in your name. You’ve always been restless, a creature of perpetual movement, seeking both exhilaration and escape.

It doesn’t help that Gale, with his keen eyes and warm, gentle presence, sees through you like he’s reading some ancient tome. He sees past the sardonic smiles and hardened exterior to the weight you carry, the shadows of things long lost and battles left behind.

It’s unnerving, honestly—how he catches you gazing off toward the harbor with a faraway look, and without a word, sets a quiet hand on your shoulder, a gesture as subtle as it is grounding. For all your world-worn edges, Gale holds you with an understanding that makes you feel, for a moment, at home.

But that night, as the city bustles with its typical rowdy din, Gale notices the way your brows furrow, gaze distant. There’s a tension in you, a heaviness that even the thrill of a fresh ale and a crowded tavern can’t ease. He leans forward, studying you with that contemplative expression that has become so familiar.

"Tell me," he murmurs, reaching across the table to place a hand over yours. "What brought a king like you to a place like Baldur's Gate?"

For a moment, you consider deflecting, throwing off the question with a smirk and a sharp retort. But something in Gale’s gaze is different tonight, a warmth that refuses to let you hide. You sigh, your finger tracing the rim of your cup before meeting his gaze with an honesty you rarely offer.

"Her Majesty herself,” you say with a huff, your voice both bitter and amused. "An empress, in a kingdom far from here. She was…" You trail off, struggling to put into words the pull and power she had over you. "Let’s say she was the kind who’d prefer her lovers to remain loyal, even if she was the most fickle creature I’d ever known."

Gale raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "I take it things didn’t end amicably?"

A short laugh escapes you. "Not quite. She wanted everything, always, with no limits. I left when I realized that I was just another ornament in her collection, and she… well, she didn’t appreciate the loss. I barely escaped with my head."

Gale’s fingers tighten around yours. "So she banished you?”

You shake your head, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "No, banishment would’ve been merciful. Let’s just say she has a few tricks up her sleeve that’d make even a wizard like you jealous. I’ve been dodging her… influence ever since.”

There’s a sadness in Gale’s eyes, an understanding that reaches deeper than his words as he gently says, "Sounds like you’ve left a lifetime behind. And the heart doesn’t always heal as quickly as the mind, does it?"

That vulnerability in his voice pulls at something you’ve kept buried, something you thought you’d left on the shores of that faraway kingdom. You open your mouth to respond, to deflect perhaps, but Gale beats you to it, his voice softening.

"Running from one kingdom to the next, and now here in Baldur’s Gate,” he says, his gaze holding yours. "You don’t have to run anymore, you know."

You blink, the weight of his words sinking in. There’s a quiet strength in the way he says it, a reassurance you never expected from him—a wizard who has his own troubles, his own losses. Gale is no stranger to the past clinging to the present, yet he’s offering you something you thought was lost to you.

With a shrug, you turn to look at him, raising your cup as if to toast him but pausing as your eyes meet. There’s a flicker of something you can’t place, and you feel your heart stammering in a way it hasn’t in a long time.

"And what, wizard, would you have me do?" You ask, your voice laced with a challenge that hides your own nervousness. "Find solace here? Settle down, perhaps?”

A slight smile tugs at Gale’s lips as he tilts his head. "Perhaps. Or perhaps find a place that’s not just an escape—a life you can build instead of simply wander through. A life we could build together."

You stare at him, the air between you tense with something new and unnamed. A part of you wants to laugh it off, to dismiss his words as foolish and naive. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something unshakeable and warm, that stirs memories of all the things you’ve tried to forget—the longing for a life without fear or restlessness.

The weight of the years catches up to you—the kingdoms conquered, the ships sailed, the battles fought, and all the lives you’ve left behind. For the first time, in the heart of Baldur’s Gate with this wizard by your side, you realize you might actually want something more than the thrill of the chase.

Your hand tightens around his, and you lean in closer, your voice softer, almost shy. "And if I said I was ready for that? To stop running?"

Gale’s smile deepens, a glimmer of relief in his eyes as he cups your cheek. "Then, my king, I would say you’ve finally found your way home."

As his lips meet yours, you feel the burdens of the past start to lift, replaced by a quiet, steady warmth—a hope that maybe, just maybe, there’s a life waiting for you here that doesn’t require leaving anything behind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The nights in Baldur’s Gate always seemed quieter, softer, when you spent them alone with Astarion, despite the bustling noise of the city outside. Tonight, as the two of you sit together on the balcony of a small, worn tavern, there’s a lull in the usual chatter between you. He’s watching you, silver eyes sharp with interest as he leans against the balcony rail, studying the way the city lights reflect in your dark gaze.

The evening air is rich with scents from the market below—roasted chestnuts, spices, the ever-present smell of ale. You lean back, taking it all in, lost in thought, and for a moment, Astarion just lets the silence hang, until he eventually breaks it with his usual wry charm.

“Alright, my brooding, mysterious satyr—spill it. What’s going on in that horned head of yours tonight?”

You exhale, a half-sigh, half-laugh escaping your lips. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

His grin widens, and he leans in closer, resting his chin on his hand as he watches you with that predatory curiosity he always carries. “Oh, I’ve heard. Though, from you, I’d expect nothing less in return.”

You look at him then, realizing you’ve let more slip than you usually would in recent days. Not much goes unnoticed with Astarion. He’s a vampire with a taste for secrets and a fondness for breaking down defenses, his keen eye always catching the smallest cracks in a person’s armor. It’s part of what had drawn him to you in the first place—you were different, you carried more history than most of Baldur’s Gate put together, wrapped in quiet agony and dark memories. And maybe he hadn’t expected you to let him see beneath that stoic veneer you wore so well.

So, tonight, you decide to let him in just a little further. You take a swig of your drink, the rich, bitter taste giving you the last bit of courage you need, and turn to him.

“I’m only here in this wretched city because of her,” you say, with a dry, bitter laugh. “A queen. Regal, beautiful, and just as venomous as she was beguiling. She… didn’t quite take our break-up well.”

Astarion arches an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, a queen, you say?” His eyes spark with interest, leaning forward to catch every word. “Go on.”

“Oh, she was a queen alright. She had everything: beauty, power, an empire at her feet—and yet, somehow, she still wanted more.” You shake your head, your voice a mix of anger and wistful amusement. “When I finally had enough, I walked away. Left her and the whole damn kingdom behind me. Apparently, she wasn’t accustomed to being refused.”

Astarion chuckles, the sound low and rich with amusement. “Ah, so that’s why you’re here—Baldur’s Gate, a city of rogues and misfits. Hiding from a scorned queen with power at her fingertips?”

You smirk, giving a small nod. “Something like that. It was either run or spend eternity looking over my shoulder.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his hand resting against yours on the balcony rail, his thumb tracing small circles along your knuckles.

“You, a pirate king,” he says softly, almost to himself. “I can’t say I didn’t suspect as much. There’s a haunted edge in your eyes—one I don’t see in the typical scoundrels that wander this city.”

The vulnerability in his voice surprises you. You look down at your intertwined hands, struck by how grounding it feels, his cool touch anchoring you to the present. You never expected to find someone in this cursed city who could understand, let alone accept, the weight you carry.

“It’s funny,” you murmur. “After all the lives I’ve led, all the titles I’ve worn, here I am—just a stranger in a strange land. Running from a woman who probably still dreams of strangling me with her silken gloves.”

Astarion’s laughter is rich and bright, and he squeezes your hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “If it helps, darling, I’d never dream of strangling you… maybe only to spice things up.”

You chuckle, and the humor pulls you back from the darker memories clawing at the edges of your mind. The smile he brings out is genuine, cutting through the weight of past lives, past loves, and bitter betrayals. Astarion leans closer, his face now inches from yours, eyes softening as he studies your expression.

“You’ve lived so many lives,” he murmurs, his voice gentle. “A king, a pirate… all these grand titles. And yet, I think I prefer this version of you—the one sitting here with me on a broken balcony above a creaky old tavern.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel like an exile, a fugitive, or a former monarch cast out by love. You just feel like you. And as you lean in, resting your head against his shoulder, the past falls away, leaving only the quiet comfort of his presence, the city lights twinkling like stars above you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

In the dim glow of the inn's candlelight, Wyll sits across from you, leaning forward with that soft, intrigued expression that makes your heart twist in ways you haven’t felt in a long time. There's warmth in his gaze, a comforting steadiness, and something more—a desire to know you, truly know you. And that makes it harder to put up the usual walls.

You take a deep breath, running a hand over your horns, a habit you've picked up when you’re lost in thought. It’s rare you let anyone this close, let alone someone as earnest as Wyll. His world is built on honor, justice, and belief in something better. Your world… well, your world has been quite the opposite.

“Let me get this straight,” Wyll says, his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “You were a king?”

You smirk, shifting in your seat.

“I was,” you reply with a shrug, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. But you can feel Wyll’s gaze on you, urging you to say more. “A pirate too,” you add after a moment, leaning back. “And a warlord, a smuggler—oh, and a reluctant diplomat on occasion.”

Wyll laughs, his eyes lighting up. “A king, a pirate, a diplomat. And here I was thinking I’d seen it all,” he says, though there’s a glimmer of worry in his gaze, like he’s wondering what brought you here, to a place like Baldur’s Gate, far from any throne.

“You’re quite the charmer,” you reply, trying to keep things light, but his curiosity has a way of drawing you out. You take another sip of your drink, feeling its warmth spread through you as you muster the words. “The only reason I’m here, if you really want to know, is because of a queen.”

Wyll raises an eyebrow, but he stays silent, waiting for you to continue. And for a reason you can’t quite name, you do.

“She was everything you’d expect a queen to be: ruthless, beautiful, and ambitious as the gods themselves,” you say, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “She had her sights set on everything and everyone she wanted. And, for a time, that was me.”

His expression softens, though his brow creases as he considers your words. “So… she cast you out?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “It was… messier than that. Let’s just say queens don’t take breakups well. She had power, more power than I realized. And when I finally left her…” Your voice trails off, memories stirring that you'd rather keep buried. “She didn’t take it lightly. So, here I am, halfway across the world, trying to forget it all.”

Wyll’s hand reaches across the table, resting atop yours. It’s a gentle, grounding touch, the kind you’re not used to. You glance at his hand, then up into his eyes, and find only warmth there, no judgment or pity. Just… understanding.

“Sometimes,” he says quietly, “the past follows us no matter how far we run. But it doesn’t have to define us.”

For the first time in a long while, you feel something shift within you—a loosening of the weight you've carried. Wyll’s words echo in your mind, and for once, the memories don’t feel quite as heavy.

He smiles, leaning forward, his voice soft. “Tell me more about her, this queen of yours. What was it that drew you to her?”

You laugh, a rueful sound. “She was the kind of woman who could make you feel like you owned the stars one moment and then take them all away the next. There’s something intoxicating about that sort of power.” You glance at Wyll, who’s watching you with that same soft expression. “But that kind of intensity… it burns out quickly.”

He nods, his gaze unwavering. “And what are you searching for now?” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding you once again.

“I don’t know,” you admit, glancing down. “Maybe peace, if that’s even possible for someone like me. I’ve spent so long running… it feels strange to stop.”

Wyll’s lips curl into a faint smile. “Then maybe it’s time to stop running. Here, with me.”

Your breath catches at the simplicity of his words. You want to brush it off, to make some sarcastic remark, but the earnestness in his eyes makes it impossible. Slowly, you nod, feeling a warmth spread through you, different from the thrill of adventure or the fire of battle. It’s gentler, softer—a kind of peace you never thought you’d find.

In the dim light, Wyll’s fingers tighten around yours, a silent promise between you. And for the first time, you feel like you might actually belong somewhere, with someone who sees you, who accepts every piece of you, no matter how jagged or scarred.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The firelight in the heart of the forest flickered in the cool, evening air as you sat beside Halsin, his solid presence a grounding force beside you. The two of you had been silent for a while, sharing a meal, the gentle sounds of the forest surrounding you. Though he had seen many seasons, lived many years himself, you had to admit—Halsin made everything around him feel fresh, vibrant. And that was a rare feeling for someone like you, someone who had spent countless lives in battles and thrones, on wild seas and winding roads.

In moments like these, it was easy to feel grounded. He knew of some of your past, of course, pieced together from comments you’d let slip about former lives, your love for adventure, and your disdain for staying in one place too long. But the particulars, especially what brought you to Baldur’s Gate in the first place, remained shrouded in mystery—an ancient pain you weren’t quite sure how to share.

Tonight, though, he could sense the weight on you. The forest might have been your sanctuary, a place to relax and let down your guard, but Halsin could see through the cracks, his eyes trained on you with a gentle patience. It was that look that finally coaxed the words out, the whole story you hadn’t dared tell anyone.

“Baldur’s Gate was never meant to be a destination,” you began, twirling a stick idly in your hands, the words coming out quieter than you expected. “More like a… refuge. A place I ended up after everything else went to hell.”

Halsin watched you, leaning forward with gentle encouragement, his eyes never leaving yours as he listened with an attentiveness that put you at ease. You took a deep breath, letting the old memories surge to the surface.

“She was a queen—an empress, really. The sort who never knew a throne she couldn’t take. And for a while, I was her king. But I was just one of many things she wanted; someone she believed belonged to her, like a prized gem to wear. When I realized I was nothing more than another piece in her collection, I left. Got away. Or, well, I tried.” You laughed, though the bitterness remained.

Halsin’s brow furrowed, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “And she didn’t accept that well, did she?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “She took it as a challenge. Sent half her court after me, hired blades and spells alike. Every town I passed through, every inn I stopped at, I found her influence waiting. She wasn’t someone who liked to lose, especially not to someone she saw as her equal.”

There was a beat of silence, the crackling fire your only companion as you let the weight of your words settle. You expected some kind of pity from Halsin, or perhaps anger on your behalf, but he just listened, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder.

“And so, here I am,” you said, forcing a smirk. “The great, brooding satyr, running from his past and finding trouble around every corner. I didn’t exactly intend to stay in Baldur’s Gate, but… here I am. And here you are.”

Halsin’s hand moved from your shoulder to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek in a touch so tender it made you forget, just for a moment, all the anger and regret. His gaze held yours, deep and steady, grounding you like the roots of a great oak.

“Life,” he began, his voice low and full of understanding, “is a series of seasons. You’ve endured the harshest of winters, but that doesn’t mean spring won’t come. It sounds as if you’ve never truly had a place to call home—never a sanctuary where you could simply exist without running.”

You swallowed, the truth of his words settling heavily in your chest. He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours, and the warmth of his presence seeped through, soothing and reassuring in a way that made you feel lighter than you had in years.

“I… I never thought of it that way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “The idea of staying anywhere, of planting roots—it’s terrifying.”

“Then we’ll start small,” he murmured, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “We’ll find sanctuary here, together, no expectations beyond what you’re ready for. If anyone comes after you, I’ll be by your side. You’re not alone.”

Halsin pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt like a shield, a silent promise that he would stand with you, whatever happened next. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into his warmth, feeling his heart beat steadily against your own.

“Thank you, Halsin,” you whispered, a weight lifting from your shoulders.

When you finally pulled back, Halsin’s gaze remained steady, his eyes filled with a love that left you speechless. He didn’t see you as some relic of a broken past, or a former king trapped in his own history. To him, you were simply you, someone worth standing beside, someone worth loving.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you guys enjoyed this, sorry nonnie this took me a while to do! - Seluney xox

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

[reiteka]

I have an idea for a fic and am looking to see if anyone would be interested in reading it or if it would be a waste of time. General idea is that Tav and Astarion are struggling to defeat Same Self Trial Astarion so Tav uses a certain, let's say, distraction technique and Astarion is not a fan of it. It would be SFW. I just feel there's not enough people talking advantage of the fact that the Same Self Trial means 2 Astarions and exploring the idea that Astarion may not even realise it's him since he doesn't know what he looks like. Let me know if anyone would be interested in reading this if I wrote it

UPDATE: people encouraged me to post it so I did it.

Link: https://www.tumblr.com/reiteka/766485331409289216/dissaproving-distraction?source=share

[itshelia]

Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

[stars-and-clouds]

HE DIDN'T WANT TO LET GO HE DIDN'T WANT TO LET GO HE DIDN'T WANT TO LET GO!!! -screams-

[connorsui]

"How beautiful was she?"

"Was? ...please ..she is beautiful, but not like those girls in magazines. She is beautiful, for the way she thinks, She is beautiful for the sparkle in her eyes when she speaks about anything she loves. She is beautiful for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She is beautiful, deep down to her soul ....

She is the love of my life"

The man: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, John Price, Jason Todd, Sam Winchester, Higuruma Hiromi, Halsin, Astarion Zayne, Sylus, Xavier, Levi Ackerman, Simon Riley, Johnny Mactavish, Leon Kennedy, Aizawa, Dabi, Hawks, Rafayel, Cooper Howard, Logan Howlett, Aemond, Nikto,

[cheekylittlepupp]

Whoever was responsible for the kiss scene at Larian...

the way his hand slowly moves up....

[ramen-flavored]