#Karlach Wyll and Astarion made me grin so much

[howlsofthejackal]

I've had Baldur's Gate 3 brain worms for a while, but I finished my first run through last night and have cleansed myself of my tadpole (or, more accurately, knocked it more or less dormant for now lol)

Not too much in the way of art, but wanted to do some more portrait practice, so here's Sorrow, my warlock Tav, and Ryllin, my berserker Dark Urge

[pursuitseternal]

A “Decadent” treat for Valentine’s Day💝 Astarion x F!Reader with a sweet Sex Chocolate treat💝

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3K aphrodisiac-infused smut

💝Gift for @bhaalbaaby 💝

Summary: You finally make it to Baldur’s Gate, coin burning holes in your pockets, a need to gift your companions to celebrate how much you appreciate them. You get a gift to, a box of chocolates from your Vampire lover, and some alone time in an alley

CW: semi-public sex, aphrodisiac sex, knife play, nipple play, blood kink, blood drinking in detail, panty snatching rogue, one feral vampire who wants your blood and more

Bites series | Ao3 link |Masterlist

“Decadent:”

🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫

At last… out of the crowds of Rivington, you made it. The bottleneck of Baldur’s Gate, the Southspan’s Main Street stretches out before you all. And that gold you have been hoarding like a dragon burns a hole deep in your pack. Everything smells… good and foul. Bakeries and perfumeries and smithy shops and fish mongers…. And you can’t wait to buy something from them all.

After all your party has done for you and with you, a few tokens of appreciation wouldn’t go amiss. Karlach takes you by the arm, and you’re glad she can’t burn you to cinders by now. Because in all her hysteria, she would have certainly forgotten. Gale makes a none-too-subtle move to pull Astarion from your side, begging him to show all the booksellers. “Don’t touch me, Wizard,” he grimaces, mostly for show and humor. But there is a little irritation in his silken voice. “I have my own plans,” he comments towards Gale, but his eyes dart in your direction. That little lowering of his head so he gazes at you like the predator he is… your stomach instantly drops to your knees.

For a man who is horrific at planning, he surely knows how to calculate a breathtaking seduction… and they always begin with him giving you that look.

“Cmon soldier, let’s go find something new and sharp and deadly shiny!” Karlach tugs you towards the closest smithy, and away from where Astarion is eyeing you like you’re his next snack.

Your Cleric loops her arm through yours and giggles. “Yeah and maybe we’ll find you a little something else to wear that isn’t scaled armor and chainmail.”

“Ooooh, yeah,” Karach peers over the top of your head to cackle back at Shadowheart, “find you something Fangs won’t be able to resist.”

You manage one last look over your shoulder before they turn you into a shop, one last glance at that devouring leer from your lover. But you watch that seductive grin instantly swallowed by a scowl as Gale grabs his elbow too. You barely hear the Wizard whining something about books and spell scrolls…

You shrug. Astarion would manage. Some time where he wasn’t trying to bury his cock balls deep in your thighs for once might be good for him.

The shops flash by you, a whirlwind of coin and scents and giggles, mirth and merriment. Something you and your friends haven’t had… ever. You hold too many parcels and pouches. Of course it would be easier to stash most of it into pockets or your pack if you still wore your nice, sensible armor. But no. Karlach wouldn’t let you out the door to the clothing shop without putting on that sweet little gown you bought. So now, you walk down the street, arms laden with parcels, your thighs rubbing together without the practicality of pants, the slits up the skirt over the fronts of your thighs almost too high as you shuffle your load. Not to mention how the sun is beating on your shoulders and the tops of your breasts that hadn’t seen light since you began this journey.

You had too many things: a book for Gale, some soaps for Halsin, a bottle of Baldur’s Grape for Wyll… but you needed to return now. Karlach and Shadowheart wanted to push on, so many more stores around this corner or that one.

But you needed a rest. And someone to carry your shit.

It’s only after you make a right, you realize it’s the wrong turn. Crates line the alley, and your arms are just too sore to keep going. Resolved to rest a moment, you set your gifts down, looking at the end of the narrow way to where it hangs over the Chionthar River.

“Lost, darling?” you feel his breath on your neck even as his words barely leave his lips. Astarion hovers right over your shoulder, how he snuck up on you so quickly, you can only shake your head.

“Typical rogue,” you huff an exhausted laugh. “Just couldn’t help being a prick and being stealthy at the same time?”

“I believe you mean, typical hero, coming to save his damsel in distress, lost in the sea of the City,” he flashes you that fanged smirk that makes your stomach flutter. “How fortunate I am here, with my skills and knowledge…”

Your turn in the little space he’s given you, between that crate behind you now and his looming body before.

“My hero, come to the rescue,” you simper, very much aware of the ways his eyes are dilating as they dart over your cleavage, down your lean but unsunned arms, even to where your new dress sinches at your waist.

“Heroes are usually rewarded handsomely for their efforts, darling….”

You feel him closing in on you, his thighs butting up into your skirts, but you giggle as you reach for one long, wrapped parcel from the stack beside you. “Here, hero,” you tease. “A different sort of weapon you enjoy sheathing than the one I think is on your mind.”

His brow arches, a pleasant smile on his thick lips. He leans back just a bit, reluctant but curious about what gift you’ve set in his hands. The paper and cloth tumbles at your feet, revealing a shining new dagger, a blade nice and light as he pulls it slightly from its scabbard. “My, my,” he tries to sound smooth, trying hard to hide the lump in his throat at the thoughtfulness of your gift. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He smiles, a true grin that deepens the wrinkles by his eyes, but it only happens once he turns away a bit, thinking himself mostly out of view. His hands slip the new blade into his belt, before pulling out something from behind his back. “But this time, you’re not the only one with a surprise, I am not woefully unprepared….”

A small square box in his cold, pale palm, he opens the paper lid.

Eleven little chocolate hearts fill the lining, except for one vacant spot that stares back at you. You feel him pressing closer again, the box basically pushed against the curve of your breasts.

“You got me… chocolates?” you cock your head, picking one up and giving it a sniff.

“I’ve always wanted to have a reason to… indulge in such finery. You’ve given me more than enough reason,” he purrs. Eyes fixed as he watches you bring it closer to your mouth. “They are so… sensual and delicious, I couldn’t help but hurry to find you for a nibble.”

You squint at him, sensing there is some… game at work here. “Seems like you got peckish on your way here,” you smirk at the empty spot. “Thought you didn’t enjoy the taste of anything that wasn’t blood, my vampire.”

“For this… I made an exception,” he grins wider, and you stare into his eyes, eyes almost black as he begins to press you against the rough wood of the crate. “Taste it, my dear… it goes down so smooth, so deliciously, you’ll… burn for more.”

You lick it, feeling a foreign heat that runs right from your tongue to your belly, a sweetness to its cream that you are unfamiliar with….

“They are a specialty around these parts, darling, a little something to, well…” he catches your hand, guiding the small chocolate between your lips, “why don’t you stick it in your mouth and swallow and find out.”

Something about that tingle on your tongue already, you seem to hum with your need for more… more of the chocolate, more of him…. No.

All of him.

You smile softly, closing your eyes and opening your mouth. It’s sweet and warm and… decadent. The little treat that he places on your tongue brings you to life. And you moan with abandon, delicious little noises as you savor its taste, until you do swallow it down. Eyes still closed to the world, you feel nothing now but the way his hands have found the bare skin of your thigh. Ghosting up your flesh, his nails skate beneath the hem of your skirt, drawing it higher… higher.

His touch is warm, you notice, the only thing warmer is your own increasingly burning skin. You pant, looking into his face where he looms above you. “What’s in those… sweets?” you need to swallow midway, and somehow, being so close to him to feel his breath on your cheek only makes the burning worse.

“Aren’t they sinfully good?” his voice is deep, rumbling as his hands find purchase beneath your clothing. It takes him no effort to lift you and set your ass down on that poor, helpless crate behind you. “Lovers’ chocolates… a specialty, an indulgence from the pleasure houses on these streets. And, as I’ve never had a lover with which to share them in two-hundred years…”

You are shaking as he slots himself between your thighs, the skirt of your new dress lifted quickly around your waist. With that infamous dexterity, he slinks his fingers beneath your undergarments and inside your cunt, the chocolates already flushing your skin and soaking your folds. “Seems like the right time to indulge in the decadence?”you are slurring your words.

“Indeed.” His fingers slowly stroke you, slowly pierce deeper into your channel as his other hand pulls you right to the edge of the crate. You don’t care it’s some alleyway… that anyone could see you or hear you. Not now with the chocolate in your blood, not now with his touch crooking and thrusting into your folds.

“You’ve indulged in your own little treats, haven’t you?” he whispers right against your lips. “This dress for one, by the hells, so much easier for me to do… all manner of things now.” Just to prove his point, his free hand steals into the neckline of your bodice, pulling that breast free. Moaning, arching, you writhe as he plucks at the hardening nipple. He smirks at you, a brief little laugh on his lips before he wraps them around it and sucks.

Even his mouth is warmed, his own tasting of the chocolate raging through his body, he did have a head start after all. With how your every nerve burns and your own sex swells to be sated, you marvel at how he’s taking his own godsdamned time right now—teasing out your arousal. As if he ever needed to work hard for you to be ready for him and his cock.

Ugh… the thought of it makes you salivate. You reach for his leathers, fingers shaking and fumbling with the ties. You groan, giving up on the laces completely. Pulling the waistband down, you ease his erection free. Even that beneath your touch is hot. Swollen. Ridged with veins so risen, you can’t look away from its… beauty.

“Even more eager than usual, aren’t we darling?” he rasps against your breast. His teeth, his fangs score slightly on the pad of your nipple, making you bite your mouth shut as you scream.

“Please…” you whimper as you try to pull his hips closer by his cock. But he stands firm, fingers still sweeping inside you, mouth still teasing your flesh.

“Oh I don’t think so…” he lifts his head to place a peck on your pouting lips. “There’s so much more of you to taste first, my little treat.” He grabs into your dress once more, lifting free your other breast before he devours it with the same skill and tenacity as the other.

His tongue is wet as he swirls it, lips so skilled at sucking your flesh, by now he knows every inch of your body. But it’s the way his thumb draws over your clit, a bit harder and tougher and timed to perfection with the lap of his tongue, you burst in a searing wave of climax. Barely a warning, and you are reduced to a moaning, gushing, flailing thing. His fingers are gripped firmly inside you, hard and thrusting as you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

But it’s the little pain you barely register, his fangs cutting into the top of your breast as he now feeds, that makes you almost come again, an aftershock to the intensity of the first. You gasp for air in your burning lungs, somehow you’ve managed to hold his cock through all your throes and shocks of orgasm. And now, he bucks into your fist, growing harder and harder the more and more he feeds.

Astarion’s fingers slide out from in you with a squelch, hips rolling with increased force into your grip. “You just had to treat yourself to a dress but insist on keeping those undergarments? Tch,” he sucks his teeth as he shakes his head in mock disapproval. “You’ll know better for next time, won’t you.”

“Whatever you think best,” you grin, half-unknowing the words coming from your mouth. Your hips buck for more… that heat in your body growing more and more unbearable, despite the soothing warmth from your single climax.

Gracefully, he leans in all the closer, unsheathing that new little dagger you got him. You feel it’s cool, deadly edge press softly at the base of your neck. “Shh, shh, shh,” he smirks with lust-dark eyes. Down to his dangerous smile, he mimics how you first met. “Not a sound now…. But those undergarments of your will just have to go… have to be sacrificed for what I need to do to you….”

You shake in anticipation, eyes fixed on his sultry, arrogant, fang-toothed grin as he slinks lower. That blade leaves your neck, perfectly intact. But as he steals its point beneath your skirts, its sharpened edge cuts the thin material of your underwear. Material ripping meets your ears as he performs the same little flick of his wrist against your other hip. Standing and returning his blade, he pulls the silky band out from under you.

“Seems I’ve done you a favor.” He leers down at you, palming your undergarments, smelling them, and putting them in his pocket. “You’ve already simply ruined these already, at any rate.”

You reach for his waist, the air kissing your wet folds too much now. He could stand there and taunt for so much longer, but it’s too much to bear. You guide that thick, warm, blunted head of his cock between your thighs, wrapping your legs around him until he’s filled you.

He practically mewls your name at the force. “Gods, I should have known not to underestimate what those chocolates would do to you, darling.”

He grunts the last word as you buck against him, trying to make him start taking you. Coaxing him just a bit deeper in. He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. Not with the way your cheeks must be glowing red with how hot they feel… not with the way you feel your arousal soaking the top of the crate now, growing cold as it leaves your burning body.

Hands grip the flesh of your ass beneath your dress, holding you firmly in place as he takes control. Eyes almost black, skin un-undeadly hot where he touches you, he feels so good… better than ever… the pulsing of his thrusts consuming you and sating that fire the chocolate has put in your belly. All you can do is grab him by that sweet ruffled collar, inch your way around his neck, and hold on for dear life.

That tightly held veil of refinement begins to slip, you hear it in the snap of his hips into you and against the crate, in the feral growls he makes each time he pierces harder and harder into you….

You crane your head back, mouth panting and wide as you show him what else you want him to do… you bear your teeth at him with a playful snap.

It’s more invitation than he needs, fangs sinking into the crook of your neck, the top of your shoulder. Bite… suck… swallow. Then he lifts again, repeating the same into your pounding artery. Bite… you moan so loudly…. Suck… his lips pull so hard on your flesh you can feel it bruising… Swallow… he lifts his head to pant for air. The most self-satisfied smirk on his sharp, pale face before he yanks your neck to the other side, leaving you a match set of bites there.

Bite…

You flood with pleasure, cresting over the edge harder than you could imagine.

Suck…

Your walls suck him in too, trapping him as he begins to stilt and buck harder. Climax for him sweeping him away harder too.

Swallow…

You scream into the mass of his silver curls, trying to muffle your cries where he’s lowered to feed on the top of your breast.

But he arches back, letting out his own panting groan, coming and ramming hard into you at last. You pray the crate doesn’t give under you with a laugh. Your hands steal into his hair, caressing down his smirking cheeks.

“How… many more of those chocolates did you get…?” the question barely carries on your breathless voice.

“Not enough,” he groans, licking the last trickles of your blood as he tucks your breasts back into the neck of your dress. What was your new dress. He chuckles, deep in his chest, cock still buried inside you. Reading your thoughts. “Don’t you fret, darling. I’ll buy you another dress. One for each I ruin.”

“Oh because…” you laugh, waving your hand down your front. “This level of violence will happen to my dresses again?”

“Every time you wear one, my love,” he breathes his own laugh before he finally… at long last… catches your lips in a slow and lingering kiss. “Undoubtedly every time.”

You shake your head even as his lips continue to work yours, as his hand winds into the hair at the base of your neck.

“Karlach and Shadowheart are going to give me such grief…”

“Only because they were right… I just couldn’t keep hand or fang off you, my darling.”

[happy-beeeps]

Sweat it out

Summary: tav comes down with a nasty flu, and one of her travel companions begins to worry... and maybe realize his feelings

WC: 1.3k

warnings: none i think! idiots in love

f!tav x reader

It’s quiet outside Astarion’s tent as he paces back and forth. Halsin has been inside with you for far too long, and the lack of communication has him worried. How long has it been since he hasn’t ended the night with your words, your breath near his? Weeks, months?

He doesn’t like to think of it. In fact, he’s doing an excellent attempt at thinking about anything else as he paces, and fails to notice the clatter of their camp members walking over to him.

“Chin up soldier, the rest of us seem okay, it probably has nothing to do with her tadpole.”

“Karlach is right,” Gale agrees, “it seems unlikely that the rest of us would be spared the same fate if this truly was connected to our wormy affliction. She will pull through.”

As much as it pains him to admit it, Gale is right. For all logical sense, this should have nothing to do with the mind flayers—but the thought offers little comfort (few things hinging on Gale’s ideas rarely do.) 

It has started this morning, you had remarked how your head felt wrong. You felt wrong. You had ignored it, had soldiered on. As the day progressed, you complained of aches that had not been there, of chills that ran down your arms. Your skin grew pallor, covered in a sheen of sweat. By the end of the night, a cough ragged at your chest, and you could do nothing f else but whimper to yourself. The slightest motion had set tears out of your eyes, your skin burning itself to rid your body of whatever was happening.

Only Halsin, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart accompanied you now, the two healers were working overtime on an attempt to find your ailment, and Lae’zel was not easily persuaded to leave behind one of her dearest friends.

Astarion thinks of the dagger pressed to poor Wyll’s throat when he kindly attempt to guide her towards a spot nearest the fire.

He’s worried about you. This isn’t new, he’s made peace with the reality that he cares for you, he just hasn’t figured out how to say it. Now, he fears the opportunity may be slipping from him.

It’s Halsin’s booming voice that calms his nerves, he and the other two step out from the tent, his grin palpable even from where Astarion is standing. “She’ll be fine. It’s a nasty virus, I’ve given her a brew to aid in the healing, and I’ve created tonics for the rest of us.”

As he passes them out, Shadowheart walks up to Astarion, who is quickly making his way towards your tent. “You… don’t need a tonic. On the account of you being, you know. Not really alive.”

“You’ve got such a way with words, really,” he breathes, but his eyes flicker to the flap of your tent, “so I can go see her?”

Lae’zel speaks up, placing a firm pat on his arm as she walks by, “she’s certainly been asking for you.”

* * * 

You have two clear, feverish trances.

The first is of your mother. A memory that’s not uncommon, one you drift back to anytime you attempt to rest an illness away. Its familiarity brings comfort as you attempt to sweat this bug out, and ignore Halsin and Shadowheart’s proding over your body. 

The other is… newer. One you hadn’t expected. You’re in a secluded section of camp, feet tapping against the water, skin swathed in moonlight. Your wearing nothing other than a long, white shirt, unlaced dangerously along the neck. This is no more than two days ago. 

You follow the memory along, watch from your eyes as you trace circles along your bare thighs, until you look to your side. Astarion is there, eyes swimming with emotion, as he gnaws on his lip.

Memory Astarion reaches out, grabbing your hand, weaving your fingers together. “I’m glad you’ve convinced me to stick around after our escapades, you are entirely addicting.”

Memory you leans against him, pressing your weight against his. His skin is cool, the chill sending tiny bumps along your exposed legs. “I’m glad you’ve decided to humor me, Star.”

You’re mortified when your eyes flutter open, your mouth in the process of muttering his name, to realize he’s here. Next to you. In your tent. As you sweat through probably a third pair of smallclothes.

“You rang?” He’s cheeky when he speaks, but his hand goes to palm your stomach quickly, as if he’s checking to make sure you’re here, you’re still you. The concern is sweet, and it sends an all new kind of flush across your body.

“Feel so sick, Star.” Shit. Is that tiny little voice coming from you?

He moves then, gentler than he’s ever moved before, carefully contorting his body around yours and pressing you against him. In an instant, it’s like a salve to your soul. You’re covered in him—his smell, his weight, his temperature. The chill itself is a whole other soothe to your aches. 

“I know you are darling, but Halsin said you’ll be better soon.”

“Can’t get you sick,” a cough takes your lungs briefly, “who’s gonna pick the locks for us then?”

He laughs, and smooths a few stray hairs out of your face. “I won’t. Officially medically cleared, according to Shadowheart. On the account of my ‘not being alive.’”

You move to nod your head, but the pain makes you stop. Astarion is quick, and he cushions the movement with his hand before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I hear you were dreaming about me?”

“Maybe. Lots of trances. You know how it goes.”

“Was it particularly scandalous? Is that why my little love is so keen to swear?”

“Don’t have it in me to hit you.”

“You wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s a calm silence that takes you next, Astarion stroking your hair as you listen to the distant clamor of your friends. You break it, after another moment.

“I remembered my mother.”

You don’t often talk about your family, and he knows this. He moved just slightly so you can see his face, curiosity and warmth covering his eyes. “What was it?”

“When I was little, I got sick, nothing bad but still sick. My mother, she’d rub my hair and sing to me,” you pause to close your eyes, as if you could will her here right now, “she’d go to our kitchens and shoo the cooks out, she’d make me her special soup, and when she brought it to me she’d promise me she’d teach me one day.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“She was. Smart too. She always knew things about me that I didn’t know.”

“Oh, like what?” Astarion’s face shimmers with a laugh and you use the last bit of your strength to attempt a shrug and burrow into his chest.

“She used to tell me she knew I’d end up with someone older. Don’t know if she knew how old.”

After your words, as if in cue, your chest begins its steady rise and fall, and Astarion recognizes the twitch in your fingers. You’re trancing again. Which means he’s stuck with your words and their heavy implications.

Still, with the way your overheating body simmers against his cold touch, he resolved that he doesn’t mind their weight, not at all. In fact, he’d like more of your burden.

You don’t slip out of your trance that night, but feel the briefest ghost of a kiss on your forehead.

When sunlight rolls around, your eyes blink awake. You’re weak, you can feel it, but better. You go to sit up, but realize quickly Astarion’s weight is still against you, one arm cradling your head to his chest, one arm twisted beneath you. 

You’ve never quite felt so comfortable, so held. You don’t remember what you told him last night, don’t remember exactly what he said. Instead, you decided to live in this moment now, and pray to all the gods you’ll get to relive it again soon.

[charmandabear]

11. Astarion x Reader 👀

We're not going to worry about how long it'll take me to answer these. We're not going to talk about it. Listen, I'm trying so hard to not make these into whole things, I just want to treat them like writing exercises, but I physically can't not finish smut once it's started.

From @astarionfreak's smut ask game ~ other entries

11. "I touched myself last night thinking about you." "I know."

Tags/Warnings: reader isn't gendered but has a vulva, blood/blood drinking, p in v sex, somewhat rough sex (reader gets a little feral in this one)

You're not subtle about it at all.

Every time he catches you staring, you quickly turn your head. At one point you even just shift your eyes, trying to pretend you're looking at something behind him. But there's no way he isn't at least a little suspicious.

Since the night you let Astarion bite you, the tension between the two of you has been palpable. Something about having him pressed down on top of you, his lips on your neck and his hand cradling your neck in a way that was disproportionately gentle set something on fire inside you. You really thought that you could just get over your little crush if you got it out of your system. Sate the need and you could go back to just being friends... Or whatever you are with him.

But it had the opposite effect. Now, his very presence turns you on. The wind catches his scent and you instinctively press your thighs together. He grins after making some sassy remark to Gale, and the glint of his fangs in the light makes your mouth go dry. You even need to suppress a moan when he gets a particularly impressive kill. You really hope no one heard that one.

So now, sitting around the campfire with the rest of your companions, you're just trying desperately to appear normal. You laugh absentmindedly at whatever joke Karlach just made while in your mind, Astarion's railing you up against a tree. It's only when you realize that Wyll has been trying to ask you a question for the past 90 seconds that you know you're too far gone to be in polite company.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it, long day," you make the excuse lamely. "I'm going to turn in a little early, I've got a bit of a headache."

"Do you want something for it?" Shadowheart asks with a frown. "I've got some herbal remedies that might help."

"I'm fine, I think I just need some rest." You force a smile onto your face. "'Night, all." You walk back to your tent stiffly, speeding up to cover the last few meters quickly. Your breath wracks through your body and your blood pounds in your ears. You've never - never - gotten this worked up over another person, never mind a man. Honestly, he's not even really your usual type, you'd normally be much more likely to pursue someone like Shadowheart. But she so clearly has a thing for Karlach, and that's not something you'd want to get in the way of.

But this pale, devastatingly handsome vampire elf has your desire in a chokehold.

You light a lantern inside your tent and take out your journal to sketch. You try to conjure some of the imagery you saw today to keep your brain off Astarion. Scratch and the owlbear cub playing. The terrifying harpies that almost lured one of the tiefling children. Astarion's blade dripping with harpy blood while his bright red eyes sparkle with mischief and the thrill of he kill.

Fucking hells.

You eventually put your journal away and lay down on your bedroll, staring at the ceiling of your tent while the others continue to chat and laugh outside. You listen to their conversation die down, their goodnights, and finally the distant sound of crickets and other nighttime fauna. Your eyes start to grow heavy, or at the very least bored of looking at the support rods in your tent.

You only realize that you've drifted to sleep when you're startled awake by a soft tapping on the canvas flap that separates you from the rest of camp.

"Y-yes?" Your voice is shakier than you'd like, although it's not like a vicious creature would politely knock on your makeshift door. The flap lifts up to reveal the literal last person you'd like to see right now.

"Hello, darling," Astarion grins in that irresistible way that he does. "I wanted to check in on our fearless leader. You've seemed dreadfully jumpy all day."

"Oh! Um." You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. "I'm.. fine. Thank you, Astarion." You nod your head in a gesture of dismissal, but he doesn't move.

"Are you sure? You're positively flushed." His smile suggests he knows more than he's letting on. You chew on your lower lip to distract you from the growing ache between your legs.

"I'm perfectly fine, Astarion, thank you. Good night." You reach to close the tent flap but he holds onto it. Your fingers brush against his and it's like a jolt of lightning passes between your hands.

"I'm not buying it," he hums, dropping his voice. He pushes his way into your tent and you scramble backwards. The last thing you need is for him to touch you - you might not be able to control yourself if he does. "Now tell me, what's had you so hot and bothered all day?"

"N-nothing," you stammer, wishing you could just disappear on the spot. He raises an eyebrow and you backpedal. "Well, fine, I think something Gale cooked isn't sitting quite right with me. I was... embarrassed." The lie rings hollow even to you.

"Come now, love, we both know you're a terrible liar." He crawls towards you on his knees, a predator stalking his prey. Your breath catches in your throat. "Do you have something you need to confess?"

You're trapped. You've run out of room in the tent to back away, and Astarion has all but crawled on top of you. His scent is intoxicating and his eyes gleam in the low light. The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"I touched myself last night thinking about you."

"I know." The grin that curls across his face is fiendish. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

"You know?" Then you gasp suddenly. "The tadpole..."

Astarion lets out a bark of a laugh, loud enough that you're worried it might wake your other companions. "Darling, I didn't need a tadpole to figure that one out. Like I said, you're a terrible liar." He nudges his knee closer to the apex of your legs and you can feel your arousal making your underclothes wet. "What I want to know is, how did you picture me? My head between your legs? Did I have you on all fours in the forest? Or..." His lips ghost against yours now and your head feels dizzy with lust. "Or perhaps I had you pinned down in this very tent, taking my time as I had my way with you?"

Your instincts take over and you close the minimal distance between you, pulling him down on top of you as you ravage his lips. You claw at his clothing, no longer interested in maintaining decorum. He tears at the laces of your breeches, pulling them down below your hips and exposing your dripping cunt to the open air. A cry rips through your throat as he licks a thick stripe up your slit, and his chuckle rumbles deep in his chest. He pulls up on his knees and grins down at you, open and wanton, as he slips out of his pants.

"So very eager," he hums as he frees his cock, engorged and already dripping. A shudder runs through you as you see it, and you yank on his shirt and pull him down to meet you. You kiss him roughly, catching his lower lip in your teeth as you hook your leg around his waist.

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Astarion," you hiss through gritted teeth, and you groan loudly when he easily sinks in up to his base.

"Someone wants the whole of camp to hear," he growls in your ear as he begins to slowly thrust into you.

"Then you better make it quick so we don't wake them," you snarl in response, all pretenses having vanished. You tangle your fingers into his hair and press his face to your neck. You feel his lips stretch into a smile just before he sinks his fangs into you, the icy shard of pain melting into the heat of his mouth warming with your blood.

You jut your hips up into him, desperately chasing your release as he drinks his fill. He fucks into you, hard and messy, and before long you're feeling the pressure building in your core.

"Gods, Astarion, don't stop," you gasp hungrily in his ear, and he increases his pace to a punishing rhythm. You're starting to grow faint from blood loss just as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Your walls clench and shudder around his length and he tears his mouth away from your neck, his expression wild and bloody. A few more broken ruts and you can feel him spilling inside you, the feeling his pulsing cock prolonging your own climax.

The two of you eventually still, covered in a sheen of sweat and panting heavily. Your ears strain to hear if there has been any disturbance in camp to indicate that your other companions heard anything. Outside your tent remains, thankfully, silent.

"Well then," Astarion exhales quickly as he slides out of you. "Darling, if it's going to be like that, then you just need to invite me next time."

[2plottwist]

A Fabled End

Summary: You end up with a magical, impossible to decipher book. Before you know it, you and Astarion are literally sucked into the story, having to play your parts in order to escape. The catch? You have to play star-crossed lovers.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader, referred to with she/her pronouns

Characters: Astarion, various made-up fairytale creatures, super brief Gale and Shadowheart appearance

Warnings: absolute tooth-rotting fluff, the f word (scary!)

Author: Emma:)

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: this is definitely a longer read, but oh my god, do I think it is worth it. This is my favorite thing I have probably ever written. I hope you enjoy it as much as Kenna and I do. (p.s. fan art is appreciated)

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you glanced over the text again. Wyll and Karlach had gone out looking for supplies nearby your camp and had found little to nothing- besides a very large, very magical book. It had been offered to Gale first, who kindly declined to prepare everyone dinner. So it was given to the next best option- you.

After the enormous tiefling plopped it in your hands, you took a second to examine it before revealing its contents. Though it was cast in worn leather, swirls of purple emitted from beneath the cover, beckoning you closer. At first. 

Encoding it had been a rather infuriating task. Every time you looked at it, the tangled mess of runes seemed to change, spelling out some ancient, or made-up, language. No matter how hard you concentrated, the meaning eluded you, as if the book was mocking your attempts.

“Why in the hells could Gale not busy himself with this?” you grumble to yourself, pricking up the pointy ears of one of your nearby companions. 

“Having a hard time, darling?” Astarion drawled, sauntering towards where you were sitting in front of your tent. “I knew you struggled with finding me good bits of reading, but you appear to be illiterate.”

You rolled your eyes at the words despite the fact that your undead companion was probably right. You'd pored over various dusty tomes for years, but you couldn’t make anything out of the book. 

“Hey.. it’s not my fault you don’t appreciate ‘The World According to Bumpo’,” you shot back, referencing the fictitious tale you had brought back to him from the goblin camp. “It’s got layers.. You’ve got to actually use your mind to discover them.”

The vampire let out a dry laugh before lounging on a pillow that was laid against the wall of your tent. “Well, in that case, I guess neither of us know what it’s really about, hmm?”

Though his words were pointed, you recognized the playful lilt of his speech. It was a delicate balance, Astarion’s personality, and you couldn’t tell if it was by design or by accident. 

You groaned, dropping the heavy text in between the two of you. “Before you embarrass yourself by belittling me further, why don’t you have a go?” you say, motioning your hand toward the discarded book. 

“Hmm,” Astarion considers the proposition, tilting his head and smirking. “Alright. I suppose I have nothing else to do during the precious hours I have to myself.” 

He picked up the book, giving it a once-over before carefully flipping through the dry parchment. His brows furrowed, and he muttered something to himself before laughing.

“Oh, this is interesting,” he said casually, as if discussing the weather.

“What? What is?” you ask excitedly, attempting to peer over the cover and see what he was seeing. 

“You really are illiterate, aren’t you?” Astarion continued, shooting you a devilish grin. “There’s text right here, as common as drows in the underdark.” 

You narrowed your eyes, unable to believe what the elf had just told you. You had stared at the book for so long, the indecipherable runes were practically burnt into your eyes. 

“What does it say?” you ask, tilting your head.

“Hmm, well,” Astarion starts before clearing his throat and adjusting his voice to a mockingly low one. “The path to freedom lies in truth. Only when you embrace what you have discovered can you leave this place.” He chuckled again, meeting your gaze. “A bit ominous, isn’t it?”

“You’re full of rubbish,” you shoot back, shaking your head out of frustration. “You can read it, just like that? After I spent all that time trying to decipher it?”

Astarion grinned, clearly enjoying the surprise on your face. “What, you don’t think I have any skills beyond my charming wit and dashing good looks?” 

You cross your arms, looks mirroring the dejection you felt within yourself. 

“I assure you, darling, I’m not making it up. But, if you’re still so inclined to doubt me, why don’t you come and see for yourself?”

You frowned at the elf before reaching out to take the book from him, but Astarion didn’t release his hold. Your fingers brushed against each other, and for a moment, the two of you hesitated, locked in a brief standoff. Then, the pages of the tome began to glow with a soft, ethereal light. 

“What in the Hells-” you began but were cut off when the light flared, engulfing both of you. The world around you blurred and twisted sharply, and you were suddenly yanked from your camp with a force that left you breathless. 

When the light finally faded, you found yourself thrown onto a cobble path- right in the middle of a picturesque village, the kind that belonged in a fairy tale.

As you stood, you noticed blooming flowers lining the cobbled roads, their sweet scent filling the air. The roofs were thatched in all colors of shingles. Nearby, a baker had opened his window, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting into the street.

You blink in confusion before realizing you were no longer in your clothes- you were dressed in a flowing, ethereal gown that shimmered like starlight. Beside you, Astarion looked equally stunned, his usual dark attire replaced with a fine, tailored getup that made him look every bit the nobleman.

He glanced around, then down at the book, which was still in his hand, now glowing with a faint, pulsing light. 

“Well,” he mused, his tone a mix of amusement and annoyance. “It appears we’ve been… transported.”

You shot him a look, your frustration bubbling up again. “Transported? Where? Was it the book?”

Astarion held the suspect up, smirking. “Hmm. It seems our little tug-of-war triggered some sort of enchantment.”

Before you could respond, the two of you were approached by a plump woman, her bright pink cheeks and exaggeratedly twinkling eyes making her look like a character from a children’s story. 

“Oh, my darlings!” the woman exclaimed, her voice as melodious as a jingle. “You two are just the most perfect couple I’ve ever seen!” 

Before you could protest, she was pushing you towards an intricately decorated cottage at the edge of the village. A sign hung above the door; it depicted two cartoonish dragons curving into a heart. Below it, you could make out “Enchanted Encounters by Madame Delphine” in a deep purple, delicate handwriting.

With a flourish, she gestured at the building. It was just as cartoonish as the sign, if not more, with its heart-shaped windows, a thatched roof adorned with twinkling lights, and a garden bursting with oversized, colorful roses.  

“Welcome, welcome to Enchanted Encounters, where love is our specialty!”

As she ushered you deeper inside, the air was filled with the scent of lavender and roses, and the walls were lined with love-themed trinkets and framed, exaggeratedly romantic artwork. Despite the overwhelming theme, the atmosphere was warm and inviting. Soft, fluffy cushions and plush armchairs were scattered around, and a fireplace crackled.

The woman motioned for you and Astarion to sit. You exchanged a wary glance with Astarion before he gestured to an armchair. “Ladies first,” he purred, flashing you a devilish smirk. 

The woman plopped down into a chair opposite you. “I have so much to tell you! First things first-”

“Now wait just a second,” you interrupted, shifting uncomfortably in your dress. 

“What in the hells is going on? Who are you?”

The woman smiled softly, the expression on her face as if you had just asked her the most mundane question.

“I am Madame Delphine, matchmaker extraordinaire! And you, my lovelies, are here to discover the magic of true love.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “We’ve been trapped in a book, for the gods sakes. You know that, don’t you?”

Madame Delphine’s eyes widened with a touch of drama, as if she had known all along. “Ah, that’s the crux of the matter! The village of Fable’s End is a place where destinies intertwine. The magic here seeks out those who are at a crossroads, those who might benefit from a little extra push in discovering their true feelings,” she mimed pushing the air as to add emphasis. 

“Well, that’s just lovely, but we had important matters to attend to,” Astarion retorted, motioning to his head. 

Madame Delphine chuckled softly, her laugh a melodious sound that seemed to resonate with the whimsical surroundings. “But that’s just it! The magic doesn’t always wait for the perfect timing. You see, the enchantment isn’t about disrupting your lives but about giving you a unique opportunity to reflect.. And connect,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. 

“Madame Delphine,” you start, your tone firm but respectful, “you’ve made a mistake. You brought us here under the impression that we are lovers. But that’s simply not true. We are not in love.”

Astarion, his arms crossed, added, “Oh, indeed. This whole scenario feels rather contrived.”

Madame Delphine’s eyes softened with a mix of sympathy and understanding. “I see. Well, if you truly believe that, then perhaps it’s best to explore what the village has in store for you with open minds and hearts. The journey might reveal more than you expect.”

As Madame Delphine spoke, an unexpected, shimmering light began to swirl around you and Astarion. The colors shifted, and the cottage’s walls seemed to dissolve into an ethereal mist. The light took on the shape of a heart, and the air was filled with a gentle, melodious hum.

You and Astarion exchanged puzzled glances as the enchantment’s glow enveloped you. Suddenly, scenes from your past adventures began to play out around you, projected in vivid, heartwarming detail.

You saw shared glances, instances of unspoken support and subtle gestures of care. The images revealed how your bond had deepened over time, showing you moments that had seemed insignificant but were actually filled with unspoken affection.

The scenes began to shift to more intimate moments. You saw yourselves laughing together by the campfire, comforting each other after a battle, and sharing quiet conversations. 

When the light finally faded, Astarion’s eyes met yours, his usual aloofness softened by a vulnerable gaze. “I didn’t realize… We’ve been through so much together, haven’t we?”

Your cheeks flushed with a blend of surprise and embarrassment, and you nodded slowly. “Yes, we have. And when I think back on everything…”

Madame Delphine, who had been quietly observing, smiled warmly. “Sometimes, it takes a little magic to help us see what’s been there all along. Your journey here has allowed you to confront your true feelings and understand them more deeply.”

You stared at each other for a moment longer before the matchmaker interrupted your thoughts.

“Now, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we? You see, my dears, this isn’t just a simple matchmaking service. This is a story, and every story has its rules.”

You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “Rules? What kind of rules?”

Madame Delphine leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. “You’re not the first couple to find yourselves in this delightful predicament. This village, and indeed, my matchmaking services, have seen many a pair before you.”

Astarion looked intrigued, his usual smirk replaced by genuine interest. “What happened to them?”

“Ah, well,” Madame Delphine said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “some found true love, others simply discovered something about themselves they never knew. But all of them played their parts—quite literally. You see, in this story, you must embrace your roles as lovers. The more convincingly you play your parts, the closer you’ll come to breaking the enchantment.”

You frown slightly. “And if we refuse to play along?”

Madame Delphine’s face became somber, though her cartoonish eyes still held a glimmer of mischief. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend that. The enchantment is quite persistent, and resisting only prolongs the tale.”

Astarion leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “And what exactly are these roles we’re supposed to play?”

Madame Delphine clapped her hands together, her cheery demeanor returning. “Oh, nothing too difficult! Simply be the star-crossed lovers you’re meant to be. The village will do the rest, guiding you through various trials and encounters. Just remember, the more authentic your feelings, the smoother the journey.”

You glance at Astarion. “Well, it seems we don’t have much choice.”

Astarion, with a dramatic sigh, offered her a small smile. “I suppose so. I do love a good drama.”

Madame Delphine clapped her hands with delight. “Splendid! Now, off you go, darlings. The story awaits, and I’m sure it will be a most enchanting one!”

The two of you stood, walking out of the cottage. As the door closed behind you, you sank to your knees, head in your hands. “Gods, why is there never any fine print on enchanted objects?”

Astarion, standing beside you with an amused smirk, glanced over. “And here I thought you liked surprises, darling. Isn’t this all just a bit of unexpected fun?”

You shot him a look, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh yes, so much fun. Being trapped in a magical book, forced to play the part of lovers—absolute delight.”

Your bickering was abruptly interrupted by a clanging sound and the appearance of a rather comical figure. 

A paladin, clad in ridiculously oversized armor that made him look like a walking castle, emerged from behind a heart-shaped archway. His helmet was so large that it wobbled precariously with every step he took, and his lance looked more like a toothpick in his gloved hands. 

“Ho there, fair maiden afar! A beautiful thing, a shining star!” he shouted, voice vibrating throughout his suit of armor. “How I cherish Lathander, my guiding light, for blessing me with such a sight.”

“Is he.. Rhyming?” You questioned, sharing a quizzical look with your companion. 

“I think one weirdo is enough to deal with today,” Astarion stated before pushing on your waist, ushering you to walk away. 

“Halt, pale fellow! Leave her be, so kind, so mellow,” the knight declared with exaggerated bravado, his voice echoing through his oversized helmet. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow, turning back to the paladin. “Oh, and who are you to address this.. Maiden?” he asked.

“I am Lord Reginald, in the flesh. And her heart.. With mine, I’d like to mesh.” 

Astarion’s wariness gave way to amusement. “Her? Are you sure? She’s rather unpleasant in the morning.”

You reach out and hit him on the arm. 

“You dare insult her, a rose, a petal?” Lord Reginald boomed back, attempting to lift his helm from his eyes. It clanked back into place. “For your sake, sir, I hope you have the mettle.”

“Are you threatening me now, Lord?” Astarion shot back, then turned to you. “I’m growing rather bored.” Realizing he had unintentionally rhymed, he muttered “Shit” under his breath.

“A duel it will be then, for the lady’s heart!” Lord Reginald said, raising his lance. “Come forth then, sparrow fart!” 

Astarion narrowed his eyes, shooting the lord a steely look. “Sparrowfa-” you hit his arm again, a laugh threatening to spill out of your mouth. “Alright then, a duel, you say? And what weapon do you propose we use, lordling?”

Lord Reginald puffed out his chest, though it seemed more a result of his armor's bulk than his own physical prowess. “Not with swords, not with steel! We shall engage in a battle of words in which the lady must feel!”

You, caught between laughter and astonishment, looked at Astarion with a teasing grin. “I think he wants to duel it out over.. Romantic poetry. Seems like you may have a rather shit hand.”

“Perish the thought,” Astarion said. “How could I refuse such a challenge?”

He smirked, stepping forward with a flourish. “I suppose if it’s a duel of words, I should rise to the occasion.”

Lord Reginald straightened his oversized helmet with a flourish. “Let us begin the duel of melodies and verses, for the heart of the lovely Y/N calls me across universes.” 

The knight stepped back and cleared his throat, preparing for his performance. He launched into a grandiose ballad with exaggerated gestures and a booming voice:

“From distant lands, both far and wide,

I’ve ventured forth with armor’s pride.

To win the heart of one so rare,

I sing my love with tender care.”

You smiled at the heartfelt, if not somewhat over-the-top, performance. 

When Lord Reginald finished his verse with a flourish, he took a deep, exaggerated bow, his armor clanking with every movement. “My heart, my weapon. My words, my shield. Now, pale one.. Do you yield?”

Astarion stepped forward, his demeanor calm and confident. With a playful glint in his eye, he began.

“Beneath the moon’s enchanting light, In shadowed depths, where stars ignite, Our journey’s path has led us here, With every step, my heart grows clear.”

His verses felt tender and sincere, and you blushed as he took a bow, looking at you with a smirk as he did so. The village seemed to respond to his melody with a soft, shimmering light. 

“You think that’s all? I’m not impressed,” Lord Reginald boomed. “Let’s see if you can handle this new test.”

He cleared his throat again before continuing. 

“In twilight’s glow and morning’s dew,

My heart beats only, dear, for you.

Your laughter rings like sweetest chime,

A melody that transcends time.”

You raised your eyebrow at the lord before looking back at Astarion, who seemed unimpressed. “That one was pretty solid, Star. I’m not sure if you can do better than “a melody that transcends time.”

Astarion huffed before turning back to the knight. 

“Through battles fierce and nights so long,

It’s with you, Y/N, where I belong.

In every glance and every sigh,

You’re the reason why I fly.”

As Astarion finished his verse and took another bow, you looked at him with admiration. Lord Reginald gave a respectful nod.

“Your performance was most admirable, Astarion,” Lord Reginald said, his voice filled with respect, and thankfully, no more rhymes. “I concede that the heart of the fair Y/N is yours, though I shall continue to admire her from afar.”

You stepped forward, your eyes sparkling with appreciation. “Thank you, Lord Reginald. That was quite an entertaining duel.” 

Without another rhyme, Lord Reginald turned, clanking down the path and out of the village.

The two of you watched him walk away for a moment before you turned to him, smirking. “The reason that you fly, eh?”

Astarion frowned, facing you. “Oh, don’t you dare. Did you see what I was up against? The bastard was, unfortunately, rather well-spoken, if not annoying. Like Gale,” he spat.

You laugh. “I’m just teasing you. Your ballad was quite charming.”

He rolled his eyes, smirking. “Well, you weren’t exactly against embracing your role as a muse.”

Your exchange was interrupted by a burst of joyful laughter and the sound of rustling leaves. In the center of the village square stood an enormous, exuberant tree. Its branches swayed with an upbeat rhythm, and its bark seemed to be drawn on. The tree had eyes, large and twinkling with excitement, that were set in knots in the wood. 

“Oh, oh! They’re coming!” the tree’s voice rang out in a sing-song tone. “Hey, over here! It’s Arboris! I’m a talking tree!”

You looked at each other, brows furrowed, before approaching the odd sight. 

“Hello, there! I’m Arboris!” the tree repeated, looking at the two of you expectantly. You hesitated before giving it your names. “Hello, Arboris. I’m Y/N, and this is Astarion.”

The tree’s branches shook again. “Oh, I am so absolutely thrilled to meet you! Yes, I am! What fun we shall have!” 

You crossed your arms. “Gods, please don’t burst out into rhymes,” Astarion quipped under his breath. 

“To continue your delightful journey, you must solve my riddles. Oh, but you two are such pleasant company, I almost don’t want to tell them to you! Oh, what a dilemma!” they cried, casting their eyes to the ground. 

You and Astarion exchanged another glance- you’d hardly said a thing. In fact, the pair of you likely came off as stand-offish. Pleasant company wasn’t the first thing that came to your mind. 

“Riddles, you say?” he asked, his tone curious. 

Arboris clapped their branches together in delight, shaking deep green leaves onto the ground, seemingly forgetting about being upset. 

“Oh, yes, yes! And with such a splendid theme at that! I’m positively giddy! Here comes the first one!”

They continued clapping for a moment longer before they stilled completely, eyes turning a deep shade of purple. In an ominous voice, they declared:

“I am a bond that binds hearts tight, 

A feeling that makes everything right.

I’m often whispered, sometimes declared,

In moments of joy or when hearts are bared.

What am I?”

Arboris began waving again happily, as if nothing had changed about them. “Come on, come on, what is it?” they squealed. 

You turn to Astarion as you contemplate the riddle. 

“Do you think they ever run out of rhymes here?” he groaned.

You ignored him. “Let’s see.. If I was the optimistic type.. Hmm. It sounds like ‘love’ itself!”

Astarion nodded, grinning. “Yes, it has to be love.”

With a smile, you spoke aloud, “The answer is love!”

Arboris became even more animated, branches swaying in a celebratory dance. “Brilliant! Oh, how wonderful! You’re so clever! Now, onto the second riddle!”

They grew still again, eyes turning the same shade of purple:

“I am a gesture that’s sweet and dear, Often given when loved ones are near. I can be soft or full of fire, I’m a sign of affection and desire. What am I?”

Astarion’s face lit up with recognition. “Why, it’s a kiss!”

You nod in agreement. “Yes, it’s definitely a kiss.”

You answer in unison, “A kiss!”

Arboris practically danced with joy, their branches moving in a jubilant swirl. “Oh, how splendid! You’re doing marvelously! I can hardly believe it! Now for the final riddle!”

The tree stilled once more:

“I am a bond that ties two hearts, A connection that never departs. Though time may pass and distance grow, Our feelings for each other always show. What am I?”

You and Astarion looked at each other. After a moment, you speak up with a smile.

“It’s a promise. It’s the bond between hearts that remains strong.. despite time and distance.”

Astarion nodded in agreement. “Yes, it’s definitely a promise.”

Arboris’ branches erupted in a cascade of sparkling leaves and squealed. “Bravo! Oh goodness me! You’ve answered all my riddles with such flair and insight! What a delightful pair you are indeed!” 

The two of you smiled at each other, despite the barrage of rhymes. 

“Oh, carry on now, on your adventure! But do remember our time together, when you met Arboris, the talking tree!” They waved a branch at you in goodbye. 

You and Astarion turned and walked down another cobbled path, laughing to yourselves about the encounter. 

“That creature was something else, wasn’t it?” Astarion remarked, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I think Arboris might have been a bit too cheerful for my taste.”

You chuckle. “You know, I think Arboris and Halsin would get along famously. Imagine the two of them together- enjoying the freedom of nature’s gifts,” you said, mocking your druid companion’s deep tone. 

Astarion let out a sharp laugh, before mocking the tree. “Oh, Halsin, pick my leaves! And Halsin would be like, 'very well, if the Oakfather sees fit'.”

The two of you laughed, shaking your head. Turning a corner, a grand mansion adorned with opulent decorations came into view. It was certainly out of place in the sleepy village; the mansion’s splendor was undeniable, with intricate carvings and luxurious tapestries giving it an air of aristocracy. 

Standing at the entrance was a striking noblewoman. Her gown, a flowing ensemble of crimson and gold, was adorned with sparkling jewels that caught the light with every subtle movement. 

The woman spotted the two of you, and her eyes lit up with an unmistakable glint of interest. Her gaze lingered on Astarion. 

“Well, well! What a delightful surprise!” the woman exclaimed, her voice rich and melodious. “I am Lady Seraphina, and I must say, it is a pleasure to meet such.. Intriguing individuals.”

Astarion, ever the epitome of charm, inclined his head in polite greeting. “The pleasure is all ours, Lady Seraphina. I am Astarion, and this is Y/N.”

You offered a courteous nod, but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discomfort as Lady Seraphina’s gaze became increasingly fixed on Astarion. The noblewoman’s approach was not merely cordial; it was laden with flirtation. 

“Ah, Astarion,” Lady Seraphina purred, her voice dripping with exaggerated affection. “You’re quite the striking adventurer, aren’t you? I’d love to hear more about your travels. Perhaps you’d care to join me for a private chat inside? I’m sure we could find many… fascinating topics to discuss.”

As she spoke, Lady Seraphina’s hand brushed against Astarion’s arm, lingering a moment longer than necessary. Her eyes were wide with an artful blend of admiration and seduction. For you, the sight was a jarring contrast to the polite distance you were accustomed to. Your heart raced with a blend of irritation and something deeper- an emotion you hadn’t expected to feel so intensely.

You had always prided yourself on your composure and self-control. Yet seeing Lady Seraphina made your chest tighten with a pang of jealousy. The way her eyes sparkled as she looked at Astarion, the subtle but unmistakable way she attempted to draw him away from you- it all seemed to chip away at your usually steadfast resolve. 

You had been trying to ignore the way Astarion’s charm seemed to attract attention from all quarters, but this was different. The noblewoman’s words were brazen and direct, and the unspoken challenge was impossible to miss. You felt a surge of uncharacteristic possessiveness; it was clear Lady Seraphina was trying to seduce Astarion, and the sight stung. 

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. “Lady Seraphina, while your offer is generous, Astarion and I have our own plans. We prefer to explore the village together.”

Your tone was steady, but there was an edge to your words that surprised even you. Lady Seraphina’s eyes widened slightly, her practiced charm faltering for a moment as she processed your unexpected intervention. 

“Oh?” she replied, her voice carrying a note of barely concealed irritation. “It’ll only be a moment, I’m sure.” 

You look at your companion who seemed to be smitten with the fact he was being flirted with. He glanced at you, devilish smirk gracing his features. You felt a tug from the tadpole burrowed in your head.

‘Just playing my part.. Like you did so graciously with Lord Reginald.’

With that, the lady tugged him into the mansion, the loud thud of the wooden doors closing in front of you making you jump.

“You bastard!” you shouted, hoping he could hear you despite the thickness of the door. 

You shake your head before becoming lost in thought. ‘Is he trying to make me.. Jealous?’ you thought to yourself. Because dammit all, it was working. 

What in the hells had come over you? When Madame Delphine had forced you to reflect on your relationship with the vampire, you realized something that you had tried to suppress deep down. With the weight of the entire realm on your shoulders, feeling anything for anyone was selfish, would deter you from the task.

Oh, but the way Astarion made you feel. He made you feel alive. Like you could do anything, be anything. And you could only hope you made him feel the same way.

After a minute or two, you couldn’t help but be drawn back to reality, or whatever it was, by the heaviness of the situation. You had to go get Astarion.

You pushed the door open quietly and stepped in, being greeted by an equally lavish hallway. What appeared to be hundreds of other hallways branched off of it, all lined with doors. 

“Oh, hells,” you murmured to yourself. You took off down one hallway, picking up the ends of your dress to ensure you didn’t trip over it. Slowly, you had managed to make your way down the entire branch, pressing an ear to each door and hearing nothing. 

Feeling defeated, you turned to walk back down to the main hallway, when suddenly, a shrill scream rang out. A door burst open, and there Astarion stood, gasping for breath. He caught your eye in an instant. 

“Oh gods, Y/N, you have to hear this- Lady Seraphina was trying to-” His eyes were wide, and his cheeks slightly flushed as he struggled to find the right words. “I didn’t think she would actually, well, you know..” You stared at him in confusion, and right before the realization dawned, Astarion shouted it out.

“Gods, Y/N, she was trying to fuck me!”

“Are you always this stupid, or are you making a special effort to torment me?” you shot back. “I could’ve told you that at the front door!”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the sight of the visibly flustered vampire. He rolled his eyes as you reached your arm out to him. He linked his in yours, and the two of you began to run out of the mansion. You leaned in, your laughter mingling with his as you navigated the lavish hallways.  

As you exited the mansion, Astarion leaned against the door, finally having a moment to catch his breath. 

“Now, before you say anything,” he panted, “I didn’t go in with the intention of that happening.” You placed a hand on your hip. “Oh? And what intention did you go in with? Playing a friendly game of lanceboard and having a glass of wine?”

He glanced sideways at you, and hesitated. For a moment you thought he wasn’t going to speak at all, but then he continued. “I thought it might be a bit… amusing to see if I could make you a little jealous.”

You raised an eyebrow, a sense of relief washing over you. “And what in the hells made you think that was a good idea?”

Astarion shrugged. “Well.. you made me endure Lord Reginald’s attempts to make you swoon. I thought I might return the favor with a little.. Strategic distraction.” You laugh. “That’s rather bold of you.”

Astarion’s lips curved into a grin, exposing his pearly fangs. “Ah, but there’s something rather intriguing about seeing you flustered. And I must say, it worked better than I expected.”

Just as you went to respond, Madame Delphine appeared, her arrival marked by a swirl of colorful mist and an air of dramatic flair. She had changed into an extravagant gown of deep purple and red, and her face was covered by a mask resembling a cat.

“Voila!” she stated, twirling around before meeting the expectant gaze of you and Astarion. “Impressive, hmm? Weren’t expecting that, were you? Then again, you two have done all sorts of things I haven’t expected.” She paused for a second and looked at Astarion. “Lovely rhymes, by the way.”

Astarion scoffed as she pulled out a letter from her corset. “Why does everyone act so surprised by that?”

Madame Delphine gingerly handed you the parchment. “I have a final challenge for you- one that is both grand and delightful.”

Astarion turned to face her fully. “And what might that be?”

Madame Delphine’s smile widened as you opened the letter. “You are cordially invited to the Enchanted Revelry! Oh, it will be a wonderful time. It will be the final challenge of your journey here in Fable’s End. A chance to showcase not just your charming features, but your true feelings for one another in the most enchanting of settings.”

“The- what?” you ask, tilting your head.

“Why, a masquerade ball, lovey! Simply attend, I’ll do the rest. I’ll be just like your Faerie Godmother, eh?”

Astarion raised an eyebrow and turned to you. “Well, it seems we’re in for quite the evening.”

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “I’m sure the revelry will be just the thing to top off our adventure. I mean, we’ve already faced the barrage of ballads- a ball should be a piece of cake.”

Madame Delphine clapped her hands together with glee. “Excellent! I shall see you both at the ball.” In her usual burst of theatrical flair, she conjured a majestic castle right before your eyes. The building seemed to rise from the very heart of the village, its walls sparkling. 

With a final, enthusiastic wave, she disappeared.

The grand entrance of the castle loomed before you, adorned with cascading banners and glittering lights. From beyond the doors, you could hear elegant music playing, and the scent of delectable treats wafted through open windows. You couldn’t help but feel excited- despite your predicament, whether it was inside a book or out in the real realm, attempting to keep mind flayers at bay, you were still a girl, enchanted by dancing and big dresses. 

As you entered the castle, the doors closed behind you with a soft, resonant thud. The ballroom was an exquisite spectacle, with crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over an elaborate dance floor. Couples swirled elegantly in their masks and gowns, their laughter mingling with the melodious strains of the distant orchestra.

However, as you and Astarion stepped into the ballroom, you were separated by an unexpected enchantment. A gust of wind swept through the hall, and you found yourself alone on one side of the grand space. 

“Wait!” you called out, your voice tinged with urgency. “Astarion!”

But your call was swallowed by the crowd, and Astarion was soon lost among the masked revelers. Frustration and concern mingled in your chest as you scanned the ballroom, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

As you struggled to find your way through the throng of masked guests, Madame Delphine appeared beside you once again. With a wave of her wand, she conjured a resplendent gown for you.

The gown shimmered with hues of deep emerald and silver, its fabric flowing like liquid moonlight. Accompanying the gown was an intricately designed mask, shaped like a graceful fox with delicate filigree patterns.

“There you are!” Madame Delphine said, her voice filled with delight. “You look enchanting! Now, to find Astarion, you must let your heart guide you.”

Before you could respond, Madame Delphine vanished in a swirl of sparkling mist, leaving you alone in your magnificent new attire. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and stepped into the ballroom.

The grandeur of the castle was breathtaking, with its high ceilings and sweeping staircases leading to ornate balconies. The guests, all adorned in their own elaborate masks and gowns, danced and mingled beneath the glittering chandeliers. You felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation as you moved through the crowd, your eyes scanning each masked gentleman with hopeful anticipation.

Every masked face you encountered seemed to carry an air of mystery, and the enchantment of the night made it difficult to distinguish one from another. Despite your frustration, you found yourself caught up in the rhythm of the event, letting the music and the atmosphere guide you.

On the other side of the ballroom, Astarion wandered about, half blinded by his own mask. The dance floor was a swirling sea of masked figures, their costumes and masks creating a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. To the casual observer, Astarion might have seemed like just another guest, but his every movement betrayed a focused intent. His eyes, sharp and alert, scanned the crowd with a keen determination. This hunt was different from any he had known before—it was not for prey, but for the one person who had captured his heart.

Astarion’s movements were smooth and calculated, each step and turn a testament to his skill in navigating both physical and social landscapes. He slipped through the crowd with the ease of a shadow, his gaze shifting and darting as he searched for you. The ballroom's ambiance—the swirling music, the laughter, and the gentle clinking of glasses—seemed to fade into the background as he honed in on his target.

His mind raced with thoughts of you, each memory a vivid reminder of why this search was so crucial. You, with your grace and warmth, had become the center of his world. The way you moved, the way you spoke, and even the way you challenged him—it was all part of what drew him to you. This hunt was driven by an emotional urgency, a longing to find you and be with you.

The thrill of the hunt, so familiar to him, was now tinged with a new, profound significance. It was no longer the thrill of the chase for its own sake, but rather the pursuit of something far more precious. Each masked face he passed seemed to blend into the next, a sea of anonymity that only heightened his determination. His heart pounded not just with the excitement of the chase, but with a deeper, more intimate anticipation.

He maneuvered through the crowd, his senses attuned to every subtle shift in the atmosphere. Astarion's eyes, narrowed in focus, finally caught sight of a familiar figure amidst the revelry. His heart quickened as he recognized your elegant silhouette, your back turned to him.

As he approached you, the world seemed to narrow to just the space between you. The masks and costumes of the other guests fell away, leaving only you in his field of vision. He moved with a purposeful elegance, closing the distance with a sense of anticipation that was both thrilling and a bit terrifying.

You spun around, seeing Astarion standing several paces away. Behind his mask, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke of both relief and adoration.

Astarion, with his predatory grace now softened by his genuine feelings, bowed before reaching out and offering a hand. The search had led him to the person he had come to love, and the fulfillment of that pursuit was more satisfying than he could have ever imagined.

As the music shifted to a softer, more melodic tune, the ballroom seemed to clear slightly, allowing you and Astarion to draw closer. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. You hurried towards each other, weaving through the remaining dancers.

Finally, you met in the center of the ballroom, where the music swelled, filling the space with a sweeping, romantic melody. Astarion’s eyes were alight with joy as he took your hands in his.

“There you are,” he said softly. “I was beginning to think I’d never find you.”

You smiled, your eyes shining as you looked up at him. “I was searching for you, too. However, I knew I would find you.”

The orchestra’s music swirled around you, and as if by design, the dancers around you fell away, leaving you and Astarion alone in your own world. Astarion held you close, his hands resting gently on your waist as he guided you through the dance. 

Your heart was racing. The way Astarion’s gaze lingered on you, the warmth of his touch, and the rhythm of your dance all combined to create a profound sense of connection. You felt as if the entire evening had led to this singular, perfect moment.

As the waltz reached its crescendo, the dance seemed to slow, drawing you closer. The music swirled around you, and as you moved together in the final, lingering steps, your faces drew near. Gently, Astarion pulled up his mask, then yours. You could feel his cool breath fanning against your face. 

“Well, my dear,” he began, voice barely above a whisper. “It seems we’ve survived this.. Masquerade of madness. But before the curtain falls on our little performance, there’s one last thing I’d like to do. 

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the intimacy of the moment. By him. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“I was wondering… since we’ve managed to breeze our way through every other challenge, would it be terribly forward of me to ask if I might kiss you?”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, but you quickly regained your composure, matching his playful tone. “Terribly forward? Perhaps,” you replied with a smirk, “but then again, when has that ever stopped you?”

Astarion chuckled softly. “Touché. But I’d rather not assume. After all, I’ve been trying to behave myself… most of the time.”

You tilted your head slightly, your smile softening as you looked at him. “Well, since you’ve been so well-behaved, I suppose I can grant you this one request.”

Astarion’s expression shifted, a mixture of genuine affection and delight replacing the earlier teasing. “In that case, I shall take this rare opportunity and make the most of it.”

With a gentleness that belied his usual bravado, Astarion leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with unspoken words and emotions that had been building between them for so long. It was a revelation, a silent admission of everything you had been too guarded or too afraid to say. His hand, cold and steady, cradled the back of your neck, drawing you even closer. 

As you slowly pulled away, the lingering sensation of the kiss remained, a sweet ache that left both of you breathless. Your foreheads pressed together, and the quiet after the kiss was filled with a newfound understanding. It was as if the kiss had woven a thread between your hearts, something strong and unbreakable, a promise of what was to come. “Thank you, Y/N. For the dance, for the adventure… and for this.”

You smiled, your heart full as you looked into his eyes. “The pleasure was mine, Astarion.”

Before you could fully savor the moment, a sudden shift in the air signaled a change.

The grand ballroom began to dissolve around you, the enchanting lights and sounds fading away. As you felt yourselves being transported back to your world, the figures of Madame Delphine, Arboris, Lady Seraphina, and Lord Reginald became visible once more. 

Madame Delphine waved energetically, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Farewell, my dear adventurers! Until our paths cross again!”

Arboris, despite being clearly uprooted, was placed on a velvet chaise lounge, a tablecloth draped over them. They gave a jovial wave, their branches and leaves rustling with the movement. “Bye bye, dear friends! Oh, do be good!”

Lady Seraphina, now dressed in an elegant gown that matched her haughty demeanor, offered a graceful nod. Though her expression was one of polite interest rather than warmth, there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. “It seems you managed quite well… despite our little disagreement.”

Lord Reginald, wearing an oversized blazer, gave a flourish with his lance, his voice carrying a hint of good-natured pride. “Bravo! Your performance was most impressive. Until we meet, I’ll hope you’ll be-” he turned to Lady Seraphina. “Damn it all! What rhymes with impressive?”

With a final burst of magical light, you found yourselves back in your own world, sitting right where you had first touched the book. Gale was the first thing you saw, his hand waving in front of your face with a look of mild concern. 

“Ah, there you are! Welcome back to the land of the living,” he said, his voice tinged with relief. “You’ve been out for over an hour. We were starting to get worried.”

Before either of you could respond, Shadowheart’s voice echoed from within her tent. “Hold on, Gale! I finally found the spell!”

Gale waved a hand dismissively in the direction of Shadowheart's tent, clearly more interested in ensuring you and Astarion were alright. But Astarion, with a rare, contented smile, simply waved him off. “We’re fine, Gale. We just… had a bit of an adventure.”

Gale raised an eyebrow, clearly curious but perhaps wisely choosing not to pry. “Well, as long as you’re both alright,” he said, stepping back to give you some space. With a final glance between the two of you, he turned and walked away, leaving you and Astarion alone.

You sat there in the fading light, the camp bustling quietly around you, but it all seemed distant, unimportant. What mattered now was the shared experience that had shifted something fundamental between you. Astarion’s hand still held yours, and as he looked at you, his usual teasing smirk softened into something more sincere.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “I know we’ve been through a lot together, but what we just experienced… it felt different, didn’t it?”

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a mix of understanding and affection. “It did. It was like everything we’ve been avoiding or denying just came to the surface. And now… now I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Astarion’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself to the moment. “I feel the same. I’ve spent so long not trusting, not letting anyone get too close… but with you, it’s different. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know one thing—I want you in it. I want to be a part of your life, whatever that looks like.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached your eyes. “I want that too, Astarion. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

As if drawn together by an invisible force, you leaned in, sharing a kiss that was both a reaffirmation of your bond and a vow for the future. This kiss was slower, more deliberate, filled with the understanding that you were stepping into something new, something lasting.

When you finally pulled apart, the world around you came back into focus. The camp, the fire, the distant sounds of your companions—it was all still there, but now it felt different, brighter, as if the future you had just spoken of was already beginning to unfold.

You leaned your head on Astarion's shoulder, a small smile playing on your lips. “You know,” you murmured, “I think we make a pretty good team, even when we’re thrown into ridiculous situations.”

Astarion chuckled, gently resting his cheek against the top of your head. “Ridiculous is an understatement, my dear. But yes, I suppose we do make a rather formidable duo, don’t we?”

You nodded, your smile growing as you closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Neither would I,” he whispered.

You sat there in silence, the night wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. And as Astarion glanced over at Gale, a mischievous glint in his eyes, he couldn’t help but add, “But I really do look forward to calling him Lord Reginald.”

You burst into a fit of giggles, and Astarion grinned, his heart lighter than it had been in centuries. The adventure was far from over, but for now, you had found something even more precious—each other.

[avocado-writing]

I love love love your bg3 writing so much. I'm so glad i found your blog.

if you're comfortable writing about marriage, could you write the companions (minus lae'zel) reactions to a githyanki Tav proposing? like, Tav has done research into material plane customs and what marriage entails and has decided they want that with their love.

thank you if you do!! ♡♡♡

Astarion

A little baffled when he sees you get down to one knee so sincerely, thinking you can’t possibly be about to propose. That’s not a thing githyanki do is it? Gods, he should have asked Lae’zel…

Eyes widen when you produce the ring. Dead heart skips.

Is utterly bowled over that this is happening. That anyone would think he was worth proposing to, especially wonderful you.

You start a spiel about why you think you’d be a spouse he should consider, usual githyanki directness, and he cuts you off - “you don’t need to convince me, my sweet. The answer is yes. It’s always yes.”

You slide a ring onto his finger and he watches the way it sparkles.

You must have saved up for ages. He never thought he’d be deserving of something like this, but is going to try and see himself through your eyes from now on.

Gale

As you drop to a knee, he’s sorting through every piece of information in his head that he knows about githyanki, because you can’t possibly be about to —

Just stares for a moment when you bring out a ring. He sees your brow furrow.

“you are displeased.” Him, quickly, “no, no! Far from it! I’m just… surprised.”

”why would you be surprised, Gale? You are the most treasured thing in my life, and I believe this is how people in Faerûn seal that bond.”

He’s reduced to speechlessness at your sincerity. All he can do is nod and put on the ring, allowing you to scoop him up in your arms and kiss him over and over ❤️

Karlach

The second you drop to a knee she says yes.

“Karlach I believe I am meant to ask the question first—” “sorry, I got overexcited! do it properly then.”

”… will you marry m—“ “YES”

She grabs you and pulls you into her embrace, holding you in a bridal carry and kissing you deeply.

“Would you like to see the ring?” “There’s a ring too?!”

She’s so happy, man. You’re certain you’ve never made a better decision in your life.

“I researched into what gem would be preferred in a ring, and measured your gloves to get the size correct.” “You did all this for me? 🥹” “Karlach, you are worth moving the stars for.”

She goes around the camp showing off her ring. She can’t stop smiling all day ❤️

Shadowheart

Raised eyebrows when you kneel.

“Hmm, I wasn’t aware that githyanki knew of marriage.” “I didn’t. I read up about it. But I suppose if you’re against it—“ “no no, I didnt say that…”

Smiles when you drop to a knee again, pretends to be coy in her answer, but she knows she’d never say anything but yes.

You lay there with her that evening as she discusses all of the intricacies of planning a wedding, her hand tangled in yours, going into great detail about what she wants. Her face hurts by the time she falls asleep because she’s been grinning all day.

Wyll

He is so utterly surprised when you propose — but not for any untoward reason.

“Wait right there!” his face is so excited when he runs back into his tent, and when he re-emerges he has a ring box in his hand too.

“oh… is it custom for us both to have a ring when proposing?” “No, my darling. It’s just fortuitous luck that I was going to propose to you, too.”

“I see. So is your answer yes, then?” “Of course my love. A thousand times.”

You smile widely, and the two of you exchange rings, before he reaches over and kisses you sweetly.

Halsin

Is happy, but also wants you to know you don’t have to do this. That proposal might be a custom of this plane but if you aren’t certain, it isn’t something you have to do.

“I want this, Halsin. I have done my research thoroughly. I can think of nothing more joyous than being married to you. I do not enter into the lightly, and I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He smiles so widely it threatens to crack his face in two. Lifts you in his arms and gives you a passionate kiss, assuring you that he will make you happy for the rest of his days.

Can’t stop looking at the ring on his finger. He’s an old elf, but he’s never felt more treasured in his life.

Minthara

Smirks. She knew this was coming.

Doesn’t say much, but confirms “you made the right choice. Yes. I will marry you.”

She scrutinises the ring as you slide it on your finger, but seems content. She keeps glancing down to how it reflects the light.

Proves just how pleased she is later that night in bed 😏

[madforhoran]

Reunion (pt. 1)

Pt. 2 - here.

X X X

It had been six months of trying to get your life together. Six months since you defeated the Elder brain, since you saw Astarion running away from the sun. You’d felt so guilty that you didn’t even try to contact him. You thought he must resent you for what he’d given up after walking away from the ritual. All you wished for him was not to have his hands and soul stained with so many deaths, to see he was already strong and powerful just the way he was. 

“You’re right, I can be better than him.”

He’d agreed with you, but watching him run away in fear of burning to a crisp didn’t feel like much of an accomplishment. Such a lousy friend you were.

You made yourself somewhat presentable, putting on the most flattering dress you owned and travelled back to the place that hit you with nostalgia immediately upon arrival. The campsite near the lake. The conversations you used to share with your former companions, the trials and tribulations, the memories still so vivid in your mind.

You could smell food, burning wood. You could hear Karlach’s roaring laughter. Shadowheart was walking around the lakeshore with Scratch and the owlbear, Wyll was talking to Jaheira and Halsin, and Gale was having a conversation with an astral projection of Lae’zel. 

And there he was. 

Beautiful as ever. 

Sitting next to the campfire, fiddling with his knife. Your fingers remembered the softness of his white curls, the coldness of his skin. Your lips remembered the touch of his. Your heart remembered how you’d robbed yourself of what could’ve been. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, tempted to run away before he noticed you. Yet at the same time, you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. 

How could you go for so long without seeing him? He was on your mind non-stop anyway. 

He turned his head.

“Shit,” you cursed inadvertently. There was no escape. He was coming towards you now. But you weren’t blind to the happiness and confidence that radiated from him. He looked genuinely content. 

“Ah, finally gracing us with your wonderful presence, darling? People were putting bets on you. I won, obviously.” 

Oh, how you’d missed his voice.

“Astarion… hi.” Your thoughts were turning into mush. “You look well.” 

He chuckled. “As complimentary as ever. Some things just don’t change, do they?” 

Something about him had changed though. It was a good change. There was no bitterness, no resentment in his voice that you expected there would be. You had to know what he’d been through all this time on his own. Hiding in the sewers? He looked too well-kept for it.

You decided to cut to the chase. There was no point beating around the bush, not with Astarion, not when you hadn’t seen him for so long. First things first, you had to address what had been plaguing you the most after you parted ways.

You took a deep breath, swallowing the guilt constricting your throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t seek you out. I felt horrible, like I failed you.. Failed our friendship.”

“You didn’t.” His smile was full of genuine warmth. “I had to process things on my own time, alone. It took a while. But eventually I realised that shadows and darkness are a part of me, same as my fangs. This is a curse only if I allow it to be, if I allow it to define me.” 

There was peace in his voice that you hadn’t heard before. You could feel pride soaring in your chest. You had hoped to hear something like this from him but it surprised you nonetheless. 

“This is finally ‘me’ in all my glory, for better or for worse.” He grinned and you had to suppress the urge to touch him and kiss him right then and there. It was exactly what you wished for him. To heal and accept he was perfect the way he was. Strong, resilient. 

“So what have you been up to?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Well, darling, I've taken a turn as an adventurer and a hero. Inspiring hope in people, rather than terror. I do try to inspire a little terror though. It’s still me after all.” His face beamed with excitement. “Turns out nobody actually cares about murder when you murder the right people and I’m quite good at it!”  

You let out a giggle without meaning to. Only this man could make you laugh about murder. At least now his thirst for bloodshed had a proper direction. And gods, his confidence was extremely attractive. Not that he was ever unattractive, but until Cazador’s death, he was operating under fear and trauma. His self-perception had been warped by two hundred years of gaslighting and torture. Seeing him this happy finally lifted the burden you’d carried for the past six months.    

“Who would’ve thought of Astarion becoming a hero?” you teased. “I distinctly remember you scoffing about how utterly awful it is and how heroes suck, or am I wrong?” 

He rolled his eyes with playfulness rather than annoyance. 

“Oh, how I’ve missed you, my dear, you and your hero speeches! What can I say, you inspired me.”

Your heart did a little jump inside your chest. Being in his presence again felt so familiar and comforting, alluring even. 

Another memory flashed through your mind. 

“You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

Saying to him that he needed a friend, not a lover, was one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Maybe this was your chance to rectify it, unless Astarion had found somebody else. You had no idea how to approach the topic to make it less awkward. This would require a bit of liquid courage.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?”

He gave you his signature silly little bow. “Of course, darling. I’ll be here, eagerly waiting for you.”

You clearly needed a lot of courage.

One drink. 

Two drinks.

Three drinks.

They weren’t enough. You felt his eyes on you, watchful as always for a seasoned rogue. He approached you and swatted the half-drunk wine glass out of your hand. 

“I think you’ve had your fill. We don’t want any drama here, though it would definitely spice up the evening.” He clicked his tongue and lifted you from the chair, dragging you away from the table towards the more quiet area where your tent used to be. You gasped at the sudden touch of his arms around you.

“W-wait,” you stuttered. 

It was now or never. 

“I want to-to ask you…something,” you mumbled, praying not to pass out and utterly embarrass yourself in front of him. 

“Don’t tell me this is why you got yourself piss-drunk. To loosen up that sweet tongue of yours. That isn’t like you, is it?”

Gods, he was so close you could smell his perfume. You yearned to touch his forever beautiful face, his beautiful everything. You felt so damn stupid. He was in love with you back then, but what now, after you’d practically abandoned him?

“D-do you still like me, Astarion?” Your heart was beating so fast now that you could hear it echoing in your ears. “As more than a friend, I mean.”

He pursed his lips and ever so theatrically imitated a thinking gesture. “You tell me, darling, you know me well enough.”

You weren’t so sure. As difficult as it was and despite the wine dizzying you, you were determined to stay on course. 

“Answer me. And please stop deflecting.” 

He smirked. “My dear, you want me now when I have no problems to deal with, is that it?” 

Deflecting yet again. He never stopped being a little shit and you both hated and loved it about him. 

“I want you,” you said, louder than you meant to. “I’ve always wanted you.”

“Your actions spoke otherwise,” he countered with a cheeky smile. 

There was no way in hells he was going to make it easy for you. In the end, it was your fault. His response stung despite his joking manner because of course, he was right. You closed the door instead of walking through it, and he respected your choice. He always did. But it looked like he would not let it slide now that the cat was out of the bag, the bastard was enjoying himself.

“At that time I thought it was for the best. I was wrong, okay?” you spat out going on offense. Damn, this wasn’t going according to plan but when did anything go right when this man was involved? Actually, you didn’t even have a plan, only a complete blackout, your brain refusing to cooperate. “Not anymore,” you added, placing your hand on his chest. You noticed a hint of tenderness in his eyes, unless you completely imagined it with your wine-muddled vision. His palm gently rested upon yours. It was electrifying.

He raised his eyebrow and a devious smirk graced his beautiful lips. “I’m truly flattered, my dear, however your seduction technique needs some work. I thought you’d learned something from me, but clearly not.”

“You…you’re such an ass,” you chided. Hells, he was infuriating. Yet you didn’t move your hand away from the spot where his heart would be beating if he were alive.  

He snickered. “And you’re adorable.”

“Having fun, just like old times, huh?”

“It’s hard not to with you, sweetheart. I have to admit that I do enjoy our roles being reversed.” 

Shit, if you could wipe that smirk off of his stupidly handsome face with a kiss, you would. But you still had enough presence of mind to not do it.

You placed your other hand on his smooth cold cheek, running your fingers over his cheekbone. The face chiseled by gods. How was anyone ever allowed to look this perfect? Your thumb found a way to the corner of his lips, caressing it ever so gently. He didn’t pull away, stood still almost rigid, his stare buried into you with pure undiluted focus. 

As the alcohol slowly began evaporating from your system, you were certain right now you hadn’t imagined the tenderness. Mixed with amusement…and longing. Nothing changed about the fact that you could read everything from his crimson eyes, like from an open book. He presented himself as mysterious but one act of kindness and the facade crumbled. You’d seen it so many times. He wanted you as much as you wanted him. Intense warmth started to spread from your loins up to your face, threatening to consume you.

“Are you casting Charm on me, darling? That’s cheating,” he huffed. “And it doesn’t have an effect on the Undead.”  

You feigned being offended. “As if you didn’t know how my spellcasting works. I didn’t resort to cheap tricks before and don’t need to do it now either.”

“What is it then?”

“You tell me, darling.”

“So cheeky.”

“I’ve learned something from you after all.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted and released himself from under your touch. “We shall continue this enlightening conversation later, I have some business to attend to. Come see me at the Rivington Mill in two days.” 

Bastard, leaving you all hot and bothered like this. At least you knew where to find him.  

[fruitsoxs]

Secrets

pairing(s); Gale x (GN)reader/tav summary; After a night of spilling secrets, you open up about never having your first kiss. Gale offers to fix that. warning(s); mentions of drinking alcohol! reader/tav is a bard wordcount; 1.6k notes; a short and sweet fic as a treat

The atmosphere is lively as you strum the strings of your lute, playing a soft tune as your companions drink and talk. It’s been a rather heinous couple of days traveling through the wilderness. Although there is still some tension lurking between the members of the party, the fighting has died down. There even seems to be friendship growing between the seven of you. 

After all the hard work you deserve a little time to relax. You pause the music, and reach down to grab the bottle of wine sitting below you. You bring it to your lips and take a long sip. After emptying the bottle, you go back to strumming. Your playing has become rather clumsy as the alcohol settles in your system, but the others don’t seem to notice. You play a song about some great heroes, which seems to fit your situation perfectly. 

As the song nears the end, you look around the fire to others. Karlach and Shadowheart are having some deep discussion. Lae’zel is off to the side, cleaning blood off of her blade. Wyll is trying to talk to Astarion, a conversation that seems to be going nowhere. You tilt your head as you notice one of you is missing. 

You can’t seem to spot Gale anywhere. 

You set your lute down to the side and stand up slowly, careful not to fall back over. You twist your head to the left, then right. Looking for any sign of his purple robe. A small twinge of worry courses through you as you begin to walk around, looking in between the leaves of the trees. You’ve made it across the camp by the time you start hearing a voice muttering words you can't quite make out.

You find yourself walking towards the soft curses, stopping when you see your magic companion holding out his hand with a small ball of light in his palm. He’s sitting on a log, hunched over with his long brown hair hanging in front of his face. Resting by his side is a half empty bottle of wine. You can’t quite hear what he’s saying- so you take a step forward. A  branch snaps below you, causing Gale to turn around and face you. The light in his palm disappears, but you can still see the fear on his face. “Oh!” he exclaims, the fear falling away when he sees it’s you. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake at this time.” he says, scooting over so you may join him on the log.

You wobble over, using the trunks of passing trees to keep yourself from falling over. He lets out a little chuckle as he watches you stumble closer. “How much have you had to drink, my friend?” he asks as you sit down next to him. You let out a small laugh. “Not too much, honestly.” He shoots you a questioning gaze before letting out a defeated sigh. “I suppose I can’t judge.” 

“You left the party.” You point out, tilting your head to the side. “Ah, yes. Don’t get me wrong, your playing was amazing- I just needed a moment to myself.” he tells you, his smile dropping. “Is everything all right?” You ask, worried about your favorite companion. 

He opens his mouth to tell you, but quickly shuts it again. It seems he’s unsure whether he wants to open up. “It’s… hard to talk about.” he finally says. He then goes quiet again, angling his body away. “That’s okay.” you reassure him, unsure how to help. He doesn’t answer. His face is unreadable, but you can tell that something is holding him down. The tension begins to get unbearable. So, in true drunk fashion, you elbow him in the arm with a sly smile. “Do you wanna know a secret?” 

His face contorts with confusion, before a small smile rests across his lips as he remembers you’ve had quite a lot to drink. “Are you sure we should be sharing secrets right now?” he asks, although his curiosity is piqued. 

“What’s the harm?” you answer, now grinning. 

“Alright. What’s the secret?” 

You look around dramatically, as if you’re making sure nobody else is there. You then lean in close and whisper. “I have horrible stage fright.” You then lean back, still smiling. “All of my confidence is fake.” 

He stares at you for a moment before bursting out in laughter. “You’re pulling my leg, surely. I haven’t seen an ounce of nervousness in you since I met you.”

“No, It’s true!” you exclaim. “Before every performance I’m practically shaking in my boots.” You tilt your head up to the sky. "Before you set foot on stage- it's all so terrifying. However, once you strum that first note- all that fear seems to melt away."

Gale nods in understanding, though his amusement doesn't fade. "So it's that split second before you begin your performance that gets to you? Before the music has even started and your mind still has time to get tangled up in a thousand different worries?" he asks. You nod. "Exactly. I get so caught up in the 'what ifs.' What if I mess up a note? What if they don't like my song?" You sigh a bit before continuing. "I'm afraid I'm not as confident as I seem."

A comfortable silence looms over the two of you as he takes in your words. His smile begins to fade as he reaches down to grab the bottle by his side. He takes a drink. “I suppose it’s my turn to share a secret.”  After a moment of hesitation he continues. “Sometimes…the weight of what I did holds me down. It makes me feel as though I am unable to breathe.” He tells you, his breath shaky. “Sometimes I find it hard to forgive myself.” 

You reach out and put your hand on his arm in a comforting manner. “We all make mistakes Gale-” 

He looks down at your hand, a painful smile stretching across his features. “I know.” He then lets out a soft chuckle.  “Perhaps I am being too hard on myself. I was young, and over confident in my abilities.” Still smiling, he looks back up at you. “When it comes to love, we don't always act in the most rational manner… It’s only later, when everything is all over, that we regret it. I’m sure you understand.” 

You grimace a bit and shake your head. “I.. actually wouldn’t know.” you mumble, heat spreading across your cheeks in shame. “I’ve never been in a relationship.” 

Gale’s eyes widen. “No relationship?” he asks, seemingly surprised. "With a charming and beautiful face like yours, I would have thought that romance would be coming your way left and right." Your cheeks grow warmer at the compliment. He tilts his head back slightly with a curious look "I won't pry if you don't want me to, but I am curious as to why you have never been in a relationship before."

You bite your lip nervously before saying. "I...suppose my music has always been my main concern. I always thought that I had to master my craft, and love would come later. I never gave myself time for relationships- but I regret it all now." you admit with a solemn expression. "I have never even kissed someone."

Gale stares at you in surprise. “Ah, I see.” 

He clears his throat, an  encouraging smile spreading across his lips. “Well, there’s no need to panic. I'm certain that there’s someone out there that would give up the stars and moon just to kiss you” he tells you leaning in a bit closer.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” 

His reassurance, although kind, doesn’t seem to ease your sour mood. He leans a bit closer, his cheeks rosy from the wine. “If it’s really bothering you that much, maybe…maybe I could give you your first kiss.” He offers, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Your expression morphs into one of surprise, cheeks now on fire. “You would do that?” You ask, your heart beating faster than it ever has before (somehow faster than it does in the heat of battle even). He smiles. A sweet, comforting smile. 

“It would be an honor.” He’s so close you can feel his breath on your face. 

You think it over for a second. Perhaps swayed by the alcohol, or the moonlight shining down on his face, you find yourself wanting this more than anything else. You turn your body completely towards him. “Alright…I…I’m going to kiss you then.” you stumble over your words. Gale smiles, waiting for you to take the first step. Nervous, and a little insecure  you purse your lips and move closer. Finally, you softly press your lips against his. 

Gale’s lips meet yours, warm and gentle. His hand rests on your waist, softly urging you to move closer. Your body complies, and the kiss deepens. It’s a rather clumsy moment, and you are completely unsure of what to do. Still, it’s electrifying.  

You pull away, letting out a nervous exhale. “Was that okay?” 

Gale smiles tenderly at you. “It was wonderful,” he says. “Perfect in fact.” He presses his lips against your forehead, before pulling away. “Now, you’ve had your first kiss. There’s no need to worry anymore.” he mumbles, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. 

“Thank you.”

He nods and pushes himself off the log. “Alright. How about we go join everyone else again?” he holds his hand out to you and helps you to your feet. You stay standing there for a moment, hand in his, staring up at him. He squeezes your hand, then lets it drop. Turning around to make his way back to the camp.

You stay frozen. Happy that you waited for this moment to have your first kiss, and scared about what this means for the future. 

[atsadi-shenanigans]

You Could Just Ask

Summary:

“You still gonna be a jackass to our friends instead of just asking me to pleasure you?” you say. He swallows. His adam’s apple bobs. “If this is my reward, absolutely.” He can’t see you smile at this angle. He can feel your grip leave his cock to slide your fingers through his hair before you grab. Still slow, still steady, giving him plenty of opportunity to stop you. He don’t. He lets you pull his head back, bare his throat, and only whimpers and shivers against you.

Or: Astarion is terrible about communicating what he wants. But Eleanor is getting good at translating gremlin.

Astarion has been in a fucking mood for two days now. It’s driving you nuts, it’s driving everybody nuts, and by all accounts, it’s driving him nuts. Ain’t nobody can put a finger on it, neither. He’s well fed, y’all went on a murder spree day before yesterday, and he even found a nice, silk jacket to wear around camp.

Man’s got it made.

And decided to be a bitch about it.

You sit at the breakfast fire, needlessly poking at the embers with a stick while he makes snide swipes at Gale’s cooking (which he don’t eat), Karlach’s clutter (she just found a stuffed owlbear to match Clive), and Lae’zel sharpening her weapons (he got a point, there).

Even Wyll stares at the fire, shoulders set in a tense line. Something’s gonna snap if somebody don’t do something.

“It’s not as if you can deal any real damage,” Astarion says to Shadowheart, who tried to get him off Gale’s ass and is now taking the brunt of it. “We all saw how accurate your spells were in the temple.”

She looks all cool and collected. Just lifts one of her eyebrows. But her knuckles are white as her fists tremble. Shadowheart fought off the mother superior of her former, well, it ain’t called a church, here. But she fought the bitch and won and she paid for it.

“That’s it.” You stand

Astarion clocks the movement and turns to face you (stares down his nose at you; or tries to since you two are the same damn height).

“Y’all wanna head out?” you say over your shoulder to the others as they stash their day gear into their packs. “I think we’ll stay here, today.”

“Gladly,” Gale mutters in an outside voice.

“Welcome to it,” Karlach says which means hoo-boy, even she’s getting pissy.

Wyll gives you a blank look, that slowly morphs into a sly “good luck” sort of grin. Turd. Everybody thinks the Blade of Frontiers is so upstanding, much nobility, wow. But Wyll is a sly little shit, is what he is. He just hides it real good until it’s time to strike.

They all shuffle on outta there double quick. Astarion watches them go as he checks his nails for damage that ain’t there.

Then you’re alone—well and truly, Shadowheart and her half-elven hearing—and you turn to your exasperating lover.

“The fuck was all that?” you say.

He just looks at you, all unimpressed. Sniffs. “What was what, dear? You’ll have to be more specific.”

You will not throw your camp slipper at him. He dodges too well, and then you got to go fetch the damn thing before either Scratch of Sweetums gets it and demolishes it (or drops it in the river, bad dog) (but not really bad bad dog, and he got pets later on, anyway).

“You’re being a dick,” you say.

To which he, predictably, rolls his eyes. “As if it’s my fault we’re surrounded by incompetent idiots.”

His gaze flicks down. Just for a second. You almost miss it, but it landed on the top of your tunic. You got yourself a new one of those, too. But only to wear around camp, cause it’s got itself a damn titty window under some satin neck straps. Astarion’s pupils flare wide a second, and then he glares at you as if challenging you to comment.

You been together several times, in several way by now. He usually initiates (you did once). But you got a suspicion.

You step closer. Reach out slow and careful to crook your finger over the top of his trousers, since he tucks his shirt in and all. Then you pull, slow and steady, leave him plenty of time and distance to stop you or pull away.

But his pupils dilate again, and he steps into you. Lets you drag him flush against your front.

“Astarion,” you say. The man actually licks his lips. “Did you get horny and decide to be an asshole to everybody about it?”

A hint of a smile tugs his lips before he buries that under scorn. “Of course not.”

But you’re learning his tells. The way his gaze hovers over your face, darts down to the titty window and the hint of cleavage like a hummingbird. Also the less than subtle grind against you as he says it.

“Were you being a dick to get us alone?” you say.

A pause, this time. His voice wobbles a touch when he says, “No.”

You lean in. Catch the way his face tilts to meet you.

“I think you’re lying,” you say against his lips. “I think you want me alone, and I think you went all bratty so I’d feel ornery about it.”

His inhale stutters. A minute shiver runs through him. “And what would you do if you were, ahem, ‘ornery?’”

It’s mind boggling how much things’ve changed in the months since y’all met. Since the disastrous first days of…this. That you can be here now, with him, talking like this? It’s a minor miracle.

He’s so fully pressed into you you can feel his cock twitch even through the cotton trousers.

“Did you do all this so I’d fuck you?” you say. You cannot keep the smile off your face or outta your voice.

He finally cracks. Closes his eyes and runs his lips over yours. Drawls, “Maybe.”

“Is it the strap?” you say. He’d picked it out and purchased it in the city, and then the nice sex shop man showed you how to put it on and, well, implied how to use it. And clean it (that part was very explicit, detailed instructions.)

The tip of his tongue swipes your upper lip. His hands ghost up your sides.

“Would you?” he says.

He takes charge in the sheets. But he bought that dildo to use on him, and he seemed to enjoy it when you did (he whimpered as you fucked him).

You’re learning what you like in terms of dirty talk (it’s surprisingly graphic). He’s an excellent teacher. So you gird your loins, ignore the heat all the way down your neck, and open your mouth. “You want me to spread you wide on my cock and fuck you all better?”

He sucks in a gasp. “Gods, darling, yes.”

Then his lips crash into yours and you’re both stumbling towards y’all’s shared tent.

The rest on AO3 for very, very rated E reasons.

[day-drawn-blog]

Part II : Slow burn ❤️‍🔥

Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

I feel your breath on my neck, the soft caress as cold as death

Your blood like wine, I want it in, oh darling make me drink and make me feel

- I want to live

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- Set in Act I

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace

Part IV : There is much to do and I still want to live

Part V : Our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : These ain't my sins, I'm not to blame

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours

Part VIII: your blood like wine invites me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

---------

Next day, you woke up early and you remembered the rollercoaster your heart had been through. And your little secret. Ah, you almost forgot. So caught up were you in your pining you ignored the safety of those around you, and the resolve you had made last night to help and protect those around you. And right now, nothing posed more of a threat than a blood sucking vampire posing as an ally. You did not quite trust him yet. After all, you did not know him well at all.

You left your tent, resolved to confront him.

To settle this issue as best as you can on behalf of those innocent of his real identity. You spotted him next to his tent. His messy curls, even more disheveled in the morning. But his countenance brighter than yesterday. You wondered if it was the effect of the favor you did him. Somehow a part of you felt happy, that you made a difference to him.

You broached the subject.

"Can we talk?" He looked up surprised. "About your... condition. I was curious how we were going to feed you from now on."

His eyes widened.

I guess he did not realize you would confront him about this first thing in the morning. But it has to be done, sooner the better. Before everyone else wakes up. "How... how are you?" He managed, flustered. At least he has it in him to be polite and ask, you thought. You approved of his shallow charm. Now to the point.

"I am alright. But I am worried." "You have my word. I will never put any of us in harm's way. And if I ever do, I will ask, first" he flashed his cheeky grin. You almost gave in. And then suddenly, rustling behind him, startled you both.

Shadowheart walked out of his tent.

You were completely blindsided, Astarion was more embarassed and looked away.

Shadowheart was surprisingly, normal. "Good morning. Are you guys planning breakfast? I heard talks about a meal, or something... " she drawled in her usual charming manner.

"Ah yeah.. something like that.."

you managed to say, and decided to drop it. Before your heart shattered into pieces again, you decided, you walk away.

You wished you could leave them at camp.

So you didn't have to be distracted by those two as you navigated such dangerous lands. But, you all always travelled together and at least there will be other people, to distract you, from Shadowheart and Astarion's intimate moments together, where he held out his hands, to help her on a step. Or she cast her guidance and radiance to protect him, or where he took out a threat with his sneak attack before they ambushed her.

You felt weaker in combat that day.

Several times, Karlach had to protect you. You almost got knocked down, and she had to help you up. Thankfully Wyll had your back too. You felt terrible how much you let this matter get to you. Back at camp, exhausted, and down to your last breath, you decided to put him out of your head once and for all. You needed to wash up, and rest.

This was not serving you.

As you sat in your tent that night, going over the events of the day. You felt tears come up. You wanted to be the one being protected. Looked after..by him. To be important enough.

To be valued and loved, by him.

Dammit. Why should you put him on a pedestal like this. Better start thinking really hard how you could avoid that from happening again. This was your only way. Should you ask them to stay behind at camp the next day? No ..you need every ally you can get fighting for your life.

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps. You were confused, you thought everyone had gone to bed early that night, tired from all the ambush you had faced that day. So who was it? And why were they coming inside your tent?The tent flaps parted, and you saw a familiar tall silhouette.

You stopped breathing in surprise.

You both stared at each other for a few moments before he broke silence. "I am sorry to disturb your rest, the hour is late. Terribly, and truly" and it seemed like he was second guessing himself and walking back out again. Then he stopped and turned around "You see, this was my first.. I had never drank from a ...thinking creature before. Cazador... my master, would only ever let me feed on rats. "

Where was he going with this?

"Would you be so kind, as to grant me this favor one more time? I completely understand if you don't want to, and this is, well very embarrassing for me to admit" You could see his ears turn red as he shiftily looked anywhere but at you. "But ever since last night, I have not been able to forget... how you tasted". "I could do anything for one more time...please?" And he looked at you with his eyes full of endless misery, that familiar pleading voice and gaze...

You were weak against that but you were annoyed.

Who does he think he is. Does he think himself so charming that he can just waltz into your tent, demanding you donate your blood for free while he went back to Shadowheart right after? You did want to be the hero to those that needed you, but this is just taking advantage of you. You liked him a little less at that point. You were fully resolved to turn him down. After all, this felt wrong, not just to you, but to Shadowheart as well.

You got up.

"I am afraid, Astarion, I will have to turn you down tonight. Isn't Shadowheart waiting for you? What will she think of your absence?"

"She doesn't know. No one does. And I would like to not tell everyone, as long as I can, if you help me. You are the only one, who knows. And if everyone were to find out, I am afraid they would not show me the kindness you did. I would be cast aside. And left to fend for myself."

For all the outward intimacy between him and Shadowheart, you realized, they were not after all, close at heart. What did you expect. Did you expect him to be someone that would allow himself to fall in love with someone or genuinely love and care for someone other than himself? Your first impression of him, was right. The suave and snooth bad boy, with a thousand charms was after all, just that.

You sighed.

Battling with your moral dilemma. You wanted to cave, and earn his trust even more, and maybe a bit of affection. But was that really the right way to go about it. To exploit his weakness? You couldn't. You needed to save everyone. Even the ones that were too proud to admit they needed saving. You sighed again.

"Astarion, I would like to help you. However I cannot, be your only source of.. sustenance. This will affect me in battle. And I thought we agreed you would feed on our enemies, since they are as good as dead, as you said."

If he was disappointed he did not let it show.

"But of course. I only just wanted a little bit. You wouldn't even feel it. I promise. It will be a gift, that I will never forget" He looked at you with his intense gaze that sometimes betrayed the storm raging inside him you suspected. "I understand..." His countenance fell. He was pained. "Have a good sleep. I'll see you around in the morning" And he turned to leave.

"Wait"

Dammit. You cannot turn him down. Or anyone. When they genuinely seem to need your help. But did Astarion really need you? Or was he being greedy? Were you being deceived? Probably. Behind the facade of one who seeks your help is someone simply using you. You felt that. And yet, you were drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

"Yes, you can...again, tonight. Only a little bit"

"Really? You would?" Genuine surprise in his voice. He quickly stepped in and drew the tent flaps shut. He took your hand and suddenly took the lead. Taking you to the back, gestured to you to sit. You sat down, he knelt in front of you, lifted your arm like last time, with both his hands, gave it a kiss, and looked at you one more time, as if to ask for your permission one last time, and when you nodded, proceeded to bear his fangs at which you looked away.

It didn't hurt, nor did it last longer than a few minutes. Afterwards he drew away, and sat down next to you, as if sated to his utmost. A grin across his face like last time. you looked at your wrist, and the two little dots where his fangs had pierced your skin. The ones from last night were fading. Tonight's red. He looked at you looking at your wrist. "Does it hurt?" He seemed...guilty.

"Let me wrap it"

He proceeded to tear a bit of linen from somewhere nearby and tie it around the bite marks. Hiding your doing, I see. This is no act of kindness. You felt your resolve melt. You felt glad to have been of use to him. But also sad, he was about to leave. And go back to shadowheart. You had served your role. He had used you, and no longer needed you.

Thank you ...you whispered to him

Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace

[littlejuicebox]

this is random, but a prompt idea that made me giggle is what if Tav wasn’t very interested in Astarion, maybe she’s from a more stoic or conservative country/realm/plane, so his flirting either went over her head or pushed her away… until she sees him sewing. Him acting ‘domestic’ immediately attracts her. Him secretly fixing Karlach’s bear, or later maybe fixing up Yenna’s clothes, makes her give him heart eyes.

Astarion, who already gave up after his flirting failed, is very confused by her sudden attention and requests for sewing lessons. For extra fun, what if post-brain she requests for lessons on sewing tiny clothes, not even realizing she’s asking how to make baby clothes—their baby’s.

Olive Branch

This is a bit different from my other work so I thought I'd give it a go! Not 100% satisfied with it, but I hope you still enjoy, anon!

Word count: 1.3K

Tags/warnings: All fluff, Astarion being Astarion lol

-----

Astarion finally gave up on seducing Tav . He’d originally pegged her as a naive, and therefore easily charmed and manipulated, cleric. Unfortunately, two weeks of wasted effort proved him wrong. She’d barely spoken or paid attention to him and his overt advances at all. 

Any attempts to entrance her with aggressive flirtation or the allure of his sexual wiles seemed to have an opposite effect. In fact, Tav would always gravitate more towards Wyll and Gale and preferred to avoid him almost entirely.

He couldn’t be the issue, of course. He was gorgeous, witty, and made it quite clear he was experienced in bed. He was the man of anyone’s dreams; he knows because he’d manufactured himself to be practically undeniable to the masses. 

So then it was obviously her… she was certainly the problem. Something about that – admittedly attractive – cleric was strange; she was oddly secretive about her goddess. The rogue couldn’t even be sure which goddess it was; Tav never referred to the deity by name.

Her apparent distaste for him was concerning, however. Just a few days back, the monster-hunter had outed him as a vampire. The entire group seemed ready to cast him aside after that, save their cleric leader. She’d granted him a moment of mercy and had been able to convince the others that he wasn’t a danger, though he felt he was on thin ice with her and everyone else. 

Astarion did not know how he was going to charm his way out of this one. And as the rogue sits in front of his tent, mulling over his options for ensuring his own security, he begins to consider that perhaps he should just suck it up and proposition Lae’zel or Gale. One of them would be sufficient, too. 

The elf is ripped from his scheming by a sudden groan of dismay from Karlach just a few tents over. When he turns to survey the scene, he sees the slouched tiefling grasping onto that stuffed bear she slept with every night, muttering something to a concerned Tav.

“Perhaps we can find a new bear, Karlach,” Tav says, frowning as she gently takes the stuffed animal from her friend and spins it around in her hand. The toy’s back seam is split apart; tufts of white stuffing spill from the opening.

Astarion instantly recognizes the issue. And the opportunity. Karlach is easily Tav’s favorite campmate – they were two sappy peas in a pod. It was likely that by offering his aid, he’d be able to win points with both the strongest member in camp and their illustrious leader, all without much effort on his part. Perfect.

“I can fix that for you, Karlach, if you’d prefer!” The rogue calls, snapping shut the book he’d been half-reading before taking a few strides toward his campmate, “It looks simple enough, wouldn’t take me more than an hour or so.”

Karlach, always the easily excitable, affable campmate, is grinning as she responds, “Really, Fangs?! You can do that?”

The silver-haired elf chuckles and then nods, taking the bear from a suspicious Tav before briefly examining it,  “Certainly. It’s nothing a simple whipstitch won’t fix.” 

And then he returns to his tent and quickly sets to work. As promised, the bear is good as new in just over an hour. 

*

Later that evening, the vampire sits close to the campfire, warming his icy skin. Apart from Tav, all his campmates had returned to their tents and since gone to sleep. The cleric was perhaps the only person that loved the fire almost as much as he did; she would often stare at it for long periods of time as if in prayer or meditation.

These nightly moments between the two of them typically passed in relative silence until one or the other dismissed themselves from the strained situation. Sometimes it felt as if they were fighting for a claim over the fire.

But tonight, Tav turns her head to stare at Astarion for a moment too long, prompting him to face in her direction with an arched eyebrow. 

“You’re quite talented at sewing,” She says, her eyes flickering across his face, examining it as if it’s brand new and not a visage she’s already known for weeks. Astarion thinks he sees her skin reddening, but then, she’s sitting remarkably close to the flames.

This olive branch is unexpected.

“Is that an actual compliment?” Astarion retorts, feigning shock and cocking his head just slightly, “I suppose I’ll take it, darling. I have to admit it’s preferable to the eye rolls and sighs you normally send my way.” 

Tav shrugs, not really refuting any of the rogue’s claims, before continuing on, “I suppose I didn’t think you had a domestic bone in your body. I misjudged you.” 

“Domestic?” Astarion asks, his tone betraying his displeasure at being called such a thing. He thinks she means to call him weak and is about to spew an insult in the cleric’s direction before she interrupts.

“I don’t mean offense,” She starts, throwing her hands up in surrender, “I apologize, I forget that isn’t always viewed as a compliment. But where I come from, domesticity is a highly favored attribute.” 

The rogue’s vitriol dies in his mouth as he assesses the woman in front of him. He can’t help it, he’s curious, so he asks, “And where do you come from, exactly?”

There is a long moment of silence. Tav heavily considers her response. And then she sighs and shrugs, “I’m from a hamlet in the Dalelands… it’s quite small, made up of no more than a few hundred. Most of us worship Hestia, the goddess of hearth and home.” 

Astarion’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to recall this goddess, but he doesn’t recognize the name.

Tav realizes Astarion has no clue what she’s talking about and visibly relaxes, “She is the goddess of hearth and home in our beliefs. Most inhabitants of the Dalelands worship Chauntea… Hestia worship is not widely accepted. It’s generally considered savagery.” 

The rogue shrugs. He really didn’t care who worshiped which god. In his eyes, all gods and goddesses were essentially the same and none of them seemed to respond anyway. Everyone was free to beg whatever deity for whatever handouts they wanted; he preferred to abstain from the practice entirely. 

“Good for you, darling, go on and worship whoever tickles your fancy,” The elf responds, turning once again to watch the fire.

Another stretch of silence, this one a bit more comfortable than any moments previous. Astarion doesn’t notice as the cleric quietly admires his profile, her eyes filled with a yearning that hadn’t ever been directed towards the vampire until now. 

After a while, Tav stands and briefly stretches her muscles. She walks a few steps toward her tent but then abruptly spins around to look at the rogue.

“Astarion?” She murmurs, her tone almost hesitant, as if she’s unsure of herself.

“Yes?” He replies, ripping his eyes away from the fire and dismissing his own thoughts to acknowledge the woman.

“Do you think you’d be able to show me how to sew like you? I only know the basics. I thought you could give me sewing lessons and I could teach you something in return… crochet or how to play the lyre, perhaps?” She asks, her hands twisting together in an anxious knot as she speaks.

The rogue nods almost imperceptibly, subtly cocking his head as he processes Tav’s sudden change in attitude toward him before responding, “Certainly, darling.”

Tav grins, and it appears almost childlike. Astarion feels the briefest flicker of affection toward the woman at her relative innocence, which is such a stark contrast to his own jaded nature.

“Okay, then. How about starting lessons tomorrow night?” She asks, still smiling, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

“Sounds like a plan,” The elf responds, and then watches with idle curiosity as Tav bids goodnight and walks away.

Astarion smiles as he returns his attention to the fire. He thinks this is a nice, simple plan; an easy way to keep himself safe in the wilds. Surely a plan as simple as this couldn't fall apart.

Right? 

[stormyjane7]

Teasing the Wave

Summary:

Your party obtains the wavemothers robe. which looks amazing on your vampire lover. Who will out tease who.

TW: Wavemother Robe, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Cock Tease

Read on Ao3

The journey to Baldur’s Gate has been a long one. Many a monster and evil do-er have been felled.You just finished a quest for the Wavemother and were granted a robe. Astarion snatched it as quickly as he could from your hands.

“While I think this would look marvelous on you darling, let me have it first?” You couldn’t resist Astarion’s puppy eyed look and agreed he could have it first. You soon found out why. The slits in the robe hit just right around his lower hips, exposing his well toned thighs. You sucked in your breath as you noticed there was no way he was wearing underwear under this. He was setting you up for failure and upon noticing your looks at him, he gave you the most devious grin.

The small journey to the tavern you were staying at seemed even longer with the teasing Astarion was doing to you. A bump of the hip into yours, swaying his hips as he walked in front of you, and not to mention his normally saucy banter was dripping this time.

“Ah yes this robe is freeing, isn’t it darling? Every inch is just so happy to meet the air.”

Your group thankfully made it to the tavern. Gale ordered dinner for the group while everyone went to unequip their armor. You got a small reprieve from your lover as he stayed down with Gale, most likely to tease him too to get a reaction of of the poor wizard.

By the time you came down the food was ready and Gale was ten shades of red. Whatever astarion did had obviously worked. You smirked as you figured it was time for payback.

You sit down next to Astarion and start fixing your plate of food. Not too much incase your plan did indeed work.

“Have fun with Gale did you?” You ask as you put some of the roast into your mouth.

“Absolutely darling. Though you are much more fun to tease.”

“Well it’s not like you don’t get something out of riling me up.” I slide my hand down and onto his thigh giving it a squeeze.

His eyebrows shot up and a grin started to hit his lips. Shockingly he didn’t say anything to you.

You kept eating, giving a squeeze to his thigh every so often and moving your hand closer to his center tiny bit by bit. You could tell he was enjoying the attention and possibility of the moment as the robe had tented up. Which gave you access to him at last.

The entire time continuing talking with your other companions and eating. When you finally touch his cock he slammed a fist on the table which shocked the group.

“Everything okay Astarion?” Wyll asked with no indication he knew what was happening.

“Yeah fangs, that was a bigger response to the big joke than necessary.” Karlach added.

Before your lover could respond you rolled your thumb over the tip of his weeping cock. This time he growled as silently as he could. He glared up at you, almost egging you on for more. You slide the precum down the shaft so that you could then move up again with ease. That seemed to have completely set him off as he gently removed your hand, stood up, and threw you over his shoulder.

“You’ll have to excuse us for the evening. We’ll see you in the morning.” He started walking up the stairs while all of your friends gave you quizzical looks. You tried to play it off like nothing but you could tell they knew something naughty was up.

Once in front of the door to your room he sets you down to open the door for you. You walk inside with him behind you and he spins you around to close the door with your body. He puts his hips into yours while locking the door. ''I hope you are ready for the hell you have unleashed my dear. you feel that?" he rubs himself into you "This is all your fault."

You slide down the door and quickly lift the front of the robe. You lick the tip of his cock and let the robe fall over you. Like this he cannot see what you are doing. He braces his hands against the door.

“Oh you little minx.” He growls as you put your mouth around him fully. You hum your approval of his words which makes him buck forward. You slowly start moving your mouth up and down his length, sucking harder when you get to the tip.

Astarion is panting heavily now, bucking his hips forward to fuck into your mouth.

As he starts sputtering in his motion you know he’s close to cumming down your throat. The thought makes you moan which is what sends him over the edge.

“Gods. Yes!” He was fucking into you until his cock stopped twitching expelling his seed into you.

You look out from under the robe up at him with the biggest grin.

“You really thought you’d get to rile me up instead? I had to turn the tables on you atleast once Astarion. You were begging for it.”

“Ha! You really are a little minx. On the bed darling. It’s my turn to show my thanks for an amazing outfit that gets my love so heated.”

You grinned at how much you got to him today instead of the other way around. You’d pay dearly for it once he gets his hands on you. But Gods it will be so worth it.

[charmandabear]

Yule

Summary:

While snuggling by the Yule fire, you forget just how sensitive elf ears can be.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 2.2k Tags/Warnings: post-game spoilers, cunnilingus, blood drinking, p in v sex, spawn!Astarion, soft!Astarion, fluff and smut, Astarion deserves to be bitten too

Read it on AO3.

Enough people said they'd still be interested in reading holiday-related fics even after the holidays, so here you go! Huge shout-outs to Idylla for their incredible art used in the banner. Their modern!Astarion absolutely ruins me.

Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve

Astarion curled against you as the Yule fire burned low in the hearth. You knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake all night, despite his insistence to the contrary. It amused you even more because, as an elf, he didn’t really need to sleep. But he had grown so accustomed to it at this point, snuggling up with you each night as you got your mandatory eight hours, it was a harder habit to break. 

You had only just put the most recent batch of cookies in the oven, but you were a little concerned for what would happen when you needed to take them out. Astarion was much like a cat in that way; if he climbed on top of you, it was a crime to disturb him. You could lay there forever, pinned beneath his weight, and you’d thank the gods for it. 

You peered down at him, sleeping so peacefully. He almost looked like a cat, pointy ears occasionally flicking at the warm air that emanated from the fire. You could practically see his tail swishing contentedly. Ever since killing Cazador and reclaiming his freedom, he’d been so drawn to creature comforts, looking for softness and indulgence in all he could find. 

You ran your fingers through his white curls, scratching his scalp absentmindedly. He shifted in his sleep, subconscious nudging him into your touch. You would sit here all night if you could, nails dancing over his pale skin while he slept soundly. You knew that eventually your timer would go off and you would need to take this latest batch of cookies out. But for now, at least, you could just enjoy having him pressed up against your side.

You stared into the fire as your hand wandered, gently stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck. You marveled at how much had changed in these past few months. Karlach and Wyll ventured to Avernus to fight on the front lines of the Blood War, and while you missed them, you knew you were only a ritual away from seeing them at the House of Hope. Gale had gone back to continue his studies in Waterdeep, and Lae’zel found herself living a surprising life of domestic bliss with Shadowheart, newly reunited with her parents. You haven’t heard much from Halsin, Jaheira, or Minsc, but you were certain that they were finding respite wherever they were. 

As you’re getting lost in your thoughts, you stopped paying attention to where your hand flitted across Astarion’s skin; that is, until you heard a breathy moan escape his lips. You looked down and realized that you were running the tip of your pointer around the shell of his ear. You pulled away suddenly, embarrassed as you realized you were basically doing the elf equivalent of teasing his nipples. He whined at the sudden loss of contact, and you sat frozen, unsure if he was awake or not. 

He stirred, legs squirming against a definitive bulge growing in his loose pants. He sat up and blinked sleepily, gears turning as he put together where he was. He turned to you and suddenly his eyes focused, pupils wide like a cat focused on its prey. 

“If you wanted something, you could’ve just asked, you know,” he said in a low purr, and you could feel yourself clench in response to the fire his words stoked deep in your core. 

“Sorry love, it was an accident,” you whispered, trying to sound cool but the crack in your voice gave you away. 

“Accident or no, you’ve made your bed, so I hope you’re ready to lie in it,” he said with a grin, fangs glinting in the firelight. He launched himself onto you, kissing you roughly as he tangled his hands in your hair. You tried to regain your breath as you kissed him back, your hands scrambling for purchase on his clean linen shirt. Your body bent back with the weight of his as he shifted on top of you, prying your legs open with his knee. An unseemly moan escaped your lips as he pressed his hardness right up to the apex of your thighs. You ran your fingers through his hair, though whether it was to regain control or just hang on for dear life, you couldn’t tell. 

Between the heat radiating from the fire, the slight delirium from staying up all night, and the way that your arousal for this man made your head swim, you could barely think straight. He continued to roll his hips into you obscenely, and you could feel the telltale dampness seeping into your small clothes. You spread your legs a little wider, trying to feel that delicious friction through the several layers of fabric that separated you. 

You broke the kiss to take in a gulp of air, beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. His lips migrated to your neck, flicking the tip of his tongue along the puncture wound that had only recently closed up. A shudder surged through your body at the sensation and you squirmed involuntarily, your body urging you closer to his. You rolled your head away from him, presenting your neck as a silent offering as you had so many times before. He needed no further invitation and sunk his teeth into the sensitive flesh, your simultaneous groans of pleasure mingling together in your ears. You knew you were courting danger by letting him bite when you were already woozy, but it was worth the risk for the good it did you both. He always became a little more powerful, a little more dominant right after drinking your blood; for you, the feeling of him siphoning just a little of your life force away gave you an unmatched feeling of ecstasy.

He detached himself from your neck and looked down at you, panting. The sight of him post-feeding always sent you into a frenzy. His cheeks and ears uncharacteristically flushed, his bloody lips in a sedate half-smile, hair a tousled mess, and a wild look in his eyes like he was ready to devour you. You could only imagine what he saw in return; your hair splayed out beneath you, eyes glassy, mouth open in a suspended moan as blood trickled down your neck.

He ran a hand down the front of your blouse and you arched your back to meet his touch. He was still pressed between your legs, your knees hooked around his waist. He ran a finger along the waistband of your pants, causing you to whine needily.

“Tell me what it is you want, pet,” he purred, the predatory cat out in full force. Your hips bucked up against him as you grasped at the rug beneath you. He looked so gorgeous in the orangey firelight, his skin soft and glowy. You pawed wantonly at the hem of his shirt, any semblance of speech leaving your body. He grabbed your flailing wrists and pinned them above your head, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.

“Your words, love. Tell me what you want,” he growled, a little more forcefully than before, eliciting another desperate mewl. 

“Ah- I.. Astarion,” you pled with him and he grinned, fangs pressing into your lips.

“Yes?” The word was a breathless whisper. He looked down the length of his nose at you, crimson eyes piercing into you.

“I want you to taste me,” you squeaked out, writhing beneath the hard length of his body. He pressed his lips to your ear just as he pressed his erection into your mound.

“Good girl,” he hissed, and pushed off your chest to slink downward to your hips. He grabbed your waistband and slid your pants down over your ass, dragging his cool hands across your heated skin. He pressed his lips into your hip and you arched into him, yearning to feel him on every inch of you. Your skin prickled from the heat of the fire, his contrasting touch making you shiver. 

He traveled downward, each kiss pulling a new and more debaucherous sound from your throat. His lips hovered above yours and he relished in making you twitch with need. After a second of teasing that felt like an eternity, he swiped his tongue along your slit and you groaned in relief. He dug his fingers into your thighs as he gently lapped at your folds, making you feel more heated with each pass. He spread your lips apart with his dexterous fingers, tracing lazy shapes with the tip of his tongue.

Your fingers curled into his hair once more, hoping to regain control of your cantering hips. He pushed his tongue deeper into you and your breath grew ragged, your hips begging to fully fuck his face. He relented to your control, letting you grind on his lips and tongue to chase your own satisfaction. Your cries grew in tandem with the pressure that mounted in your core, and this time when your hands wandered to stroke his ears, it was intentional. He moaned into your cunt, a deep, primal sound that sent vibrations directly to your clit, sending you over the edge. He buried his face into you as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, thighs squeezing around his head.

He pulled away once the pulses had subsided and you delighted to see his disheveled face, your juices reflecting in the firelight. He roughly pulled you up onto his lap, pulling your still sensitive swell down hard onto his erection. You moaned into his lips, sharing the taste of you with him.

“You saucy little minx,” he growled even as you could feel his smile through the kiss. Your fingers fumbled at his waistband, desperate to free him and feel him inside you. He peeled your blouse over the top of his head just as you released his cock from his trousers, tip already glistening with precum. Your breath hitched at the sight of it, your pussy already aching to be filled.

The length of his cock teased your folds, and he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, the pad of his thumb skating over the pert nipple. You threw your head back, raising your tits up with a heaving breath just so he could latch on with his mouth, suckling gently. Your arms around his neck, you danced your fingers close to his ear, teasing him as much as you were asking him for more. He pulled off your nipple with a pop and stared red hot daggers into you.

“Careful love. Mess with the cat and get the claws,” he warned in a low and dangerous whisper. He raised your hips up and pulled you down in one fell stroke onto his stiffened cock. The cry he tore out of you was your most obscene yet, but you were already so wet and hungry for him that you slid down to his base without resistance.

You began to ride his dick, your knees pressing against the floor as he stretched you out with every thrust. Now it was his turn to toss his head back, leaving his pale throat open and vulnerable. You sunk your teeth into the cold flesh, your dull human incisors not actually piercing skin, but eliciting a delicious groan from him nonetheless. He kept his hands squarely on your hips as you bounced up and down, relishing the slide of him along your inner walls.

You wanted to see him lose himself in you. You wanted him to come undone like you were. You needed more of those breathy moans in your ear as he unleashed the predator within.

You nipped at his earlobe.

Almost as though an external force possessed his body, he slammed you down onto your back without pulling out of you. He pushed your knees up to your ears and pounded into you forcefully, the edge of your second orgasm rapidly approaching. Your tits bounced with the force of his thrusts, and it took everything in your power to keep your eyes open so you could watch him unravel above you. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his red eyes looked down on you, positively feral. You could see his fangs through the soft o-shape his mouth formed as he came, his orgasm sending you crashing into yours. You could still feel his cock throbbing inside you with each burst of his seed even as your vision slowly faded into black.

You awoke a few moments later curled up on some pillows and a cool washcloth laid across your forehead. Next to you was a glass of water which you gulped down eagerly.

Astarion came back into the room, face still looking deliciously flushed and bitten, with a small plate of cookies. He kneeled down next to you and held one up to your lips, and you accepted the snack without hesitation. He pulled the washcloth from your forehead and kissed your cool damp skin, his lips almost warm in comparison.

“Love, you can't scare me like that. I thought I fucked you into a coma. If you're feeling unwell, say something,” he said, red eyes full of concern. You wave it off with a shrug.

“What can I say? Maybe I like messing with the cat,” you respond with a giggle as you bite down on your cookie, teeth bared playfully.

[bg-brainrot]

Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 9: Before Reaching Baldur's Gate

Chapter 9: Before Reaching Baldur's Gate

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Act 2, Canon-typical violence, consent, cw: alcohol

WC: 1.7k words, 9/18 chapters

Summary: Set during that one rest between Act 2 and Act 3 -- they talk about consent a bit, establishing their hug-boundaries.

Ao3 | [Hug8][Hug10] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

Tonight you’ve set up camp in a fortress, just one sleep away from your final destination: Baldur’s Gate. You’ve never been so anxious, so excited, felt so many different emotions, just from staring at the city you call home.

It’s been a difficult journey, one that your companions have felt just as deeply as you have. So when you see the city illuminated in the distance, you know it’s a welcome sight for you all– a true victory, one that not even the Absolute can take from you.

As their de facto leader, you know this is a time for the group to celebrate its win. And you just know that the view from the battlements is better than anything you can get from your tents down here. “Hey!” you call out to your group. A few perk up from their nightly routines, several start to walk over. “Who wants to climb that tower over there? I bet you we can see all of Baldur’s Gate from up there.”

It doesn’t take long before the entire party is clamoring up the ladder to reach the heights above you. Not even Gale, who’s making the entire climb through groans and cries about his bad knees, would miss this view.

You’re the first to reach the top, leading the pack up and climbing with practiced efficiency. As soon as you raise your head, your breath catches. It’s beautiful, you think to yourself. And it truly is, lit up like the beacon of hope you know it to be. Home.

As you walk to the edge of the tower, you can hear your companions filing in behind you. “There it is! Even after a decade, it’s lovely as ever!” Karlach extols enthusiastically.

“I’ve only been away for seven years, but my heart is no less elated,” Wyll responds, his eye crinkling in excitement.

“I’ve only been away for a few months, and I don’t understand how adventurers do this for years,” Astarion grumbles. “You both must have backs made of steel to sleep on the ground this often.” He easily takes his place next to you, arms-crossed, shoulder nudging yours ever so slightly as he stops. You nudge back a bit, but continue to stare out into the slumbering city, listening to your companions banter.

Karlach laughs a bit bitterly before saying, “Didn’t have much of a choice. Though I will say that you hardly notice what you’re sleeping on when you’re busy destroying demons.”

“Well, I still notice while destroying cultists,” the vampire responds, voice tinged with annoyance. Then to you he asks, “And what are you so enchanted by?” He leans into you more, and your body ends up at an awkward angle.

“We're so close," you say, simply, allowing yourself to rest on the crenellation next to you for balance. As it so often happens with him, you’re reminded of a cat demanding attention. “Aren’t you looking forward to it?”

He scoffs, lightly jostling you as he does so. “Of course I am, Cazador won’t know what’s coming for him.”

You grin at that, recalling your earlier conversations with Astarion, who was so worried that fighting Cazador would be impossible. Your group has faced the impossible now, facing a mad vampire lord seemed right within your grasp. “Damn right,” you say, finally turning to look at him, only to find his face incredibly close, eyes staring at you intently. “What’s the matter?”

Astarion looks back at the rest of your group, conversing amongst themselves, pointing out buildings in the cityscape, otherwise wholly preoccupied. Satisfied, he turns back to you and pouts. “Darling, would it kill you to hug me every once in a while?”

You startle, what is he talking about? Thinking back, you’re certain you hug him quite a bit, more than once in a while. You say as much, “Love, is your head alright? I swear I gave you a hug just yesterday.”

He continues to lean into you, but keeps his arms firmly crossed. “Yes, of course you hug me back,” he starts, tone explanatory. “But you barely ever hug me first. I can only think of one such instance and, while I much appreciated it, I would appreciate more.”

His words ring true, you realize. You’re not sure how much of it is a choice that you’ve consciously made or if it’s born of your underlying worry. It hasn’t been long since you entered this new phase in your relationship, and the past couple of weeks have been a lot of trial and error to get to a place of some comfort and understanding. As such, you know exactly why you’ve been careful, consciously or not. “I don’t want to touch you if you’re not ready for it,” you say, tilting your head toward his, whispering your words away from the rest of the group.

The vampire freezes a moment, his eyebrows knitting into a look of concern. “While I appreciate the sentiment, darling, a hug isn’t exactly carnal.”

You give him a flat look. “Of course it isn’t,” you respond back. “But it’s still… intimate. You should be allowed to decide when that happens. If you hug me, I know you want it to happen.”

Astarion finally uncrosses his arms, only to rub at his temple in exasperation. “Ugh, you’re being disgustingly considerate,” he says, closing his eyes. “It’s times like this that I wonder how we’ve even gotten this far.”

“Hey!” you exclaim in indignation. Lowering your voice again, you continue, “You know you’re the only one I’m this considerate to. I even told Gale we don’t have time for his little shopping trip.”

The vampire opens his eyes and shoots you a wry smile. “Ah, the very epitome of an unflinching leader. Besides, we both know you’ll give in to him anyway.”

“I will not,” you say, without much conviction.

“Regardless,” he says, holding up a hand. “I appreciate your kindness, but I am not a porcelain doll– as much as I may look it.” Astarion tilts his head up, as if to catch the starlight in his silver hair.

Pursing your mouth, you consider his words. Have I been too careful? “I… know that. I’m sorry, love. I’ll work on that, alright?”

“I know how you could start,” his eyes twinkle at you expectantly. 

“With a hug?”

“Yes, gods, just hug me already.”

Some part of you still worries, still hesitates, but in the light of Astarion’s pleading expression they melt away a bit. Facing the silhouette of the city you both call home, you wrap an arm around him and pull him into your side. “Like this?” you turn to ask him, noses almost touching.

“Mmm, it shall do,” he answers softly, leaning into your hug, touching his nose to yours for a moment before looking out at the city. “What a romantic scene we've stumbled into. I can see why bards write about it.”

You hum in agreement, tilting your head to touch his. “Maybe if we save this gods forsaken city a few bards will pick up our tale.”

“In that case,” he starts, finally wrapping his own arm around you, squeezing you to him. “We’d best make it memorable.”

You stand in each others’ arms for a while, occasionally pointing at the city as you spot places you’d like to share with each other. You’re not sure how long you spend staring out at Baldur’s Gate together before your companions jolt you back to reality.

“Oi! Lovebirds!” You both turn in unison without hesitation to the source of the interruption, Karlach. Her and the rest of the group have gathered back at the ladder.

It’s Shadowheart that responds, “It’s getting a bit chilly up here. What do you say we pop open a bottle of wine and celebrate our return home?”

“As long as it’s not firewine,” you reply, shuddering at the idea of drinking any more of that swill. Pulling Astarion by the torso, you start to move toward the group.

He tugs you back gently, ignoring your questioning eyes to call to the group, “We’ll be down in a bit, not done here quite yet.”

“Suit yourselves! But take too long and I will drink all the good shit!” Karlach says, laughing as she heads down the ladder. The rest follow right behind her, their words and footsteps fading on the night’s breeze.

Once they’ve left, you look back at your lover, eyebrow raised. “And what aren’t we done with yet?”

“Our hug, obviously,” he says, waving his free hand at you. “Or did you really think a paltry one-armed hug would satisfy a man of such appetites?”

You only take a second to process his words before gladly diving into him with both of your arms. You wrap Astarion in an all-encompassing embrace, a vice-grip full of love and warmth. “Better?” you ask, turning your head to the crook of his neck.

“Much,” he sighs into your hair, reciprocating the hug with no hesitation. A moment passes in a silent buzz of happiness, before he speaks again. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding ridiculous,” he begins. “But here, in your arms, it almost feels like I’ve already made it back home.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, but you’ve gotten better at surviving his sincere compliments. “You’re right, I should hug you more often.”

“I knew you would see reason,” he laughs. “And if you're ever worried about hugging me, you're quite welcome to ask. Now, since you always ask so nicely, would you allow me to kiss you?”

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you nod. “Yes, please.”

Astarion smiles at you, an unfiltered joy shining in his eyes. His cool fingers cup your chin as he pulls your face toward his. Your eyes close as your lips meet his in a slow, tender kiss. With the city as your backdrop and this lovely man in your arms, the world feels more focused, your purpose clearer. Baldur’s Gate awaits you, and you’ve never been so eager to answer its call.

[galebrainrot2024]

GalexTav Enemies to Lovers Pt. 26

Summary: Wyll and Karlach give Gale a pep-talk before he reveals the truth to Tav and a special guest shows up to camp. Gale reveals the truth to Tav about their time together at Blackstaff. WARNING: Extreme angst ahead. This made my heart hurt and was hard to write. Hope I did the event justice. Thanks @meglet1 for encouraging K to rough up Astarion a bit haha Word Ct: 15k

Part 25 | Master List | Read on Ao3

Gale felt each pair of eyes hone in on him as he stepped from the coolness of his tent to the scorching light of day. He was hot, too hot and sweat pooled in unmentionable places. He rubbed his palms against his robes, “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Gale said this to no one in particular - perhaps scratch, who wagged his tail merrily and none the wiser. 

Tav was on the other side of the encampment and Gale wondered if he had to tell her at all. Despite the intensity of Wyll and Halsin’s gaze, he felt nausea creep in his throat and hurried back into his tent. 

“How foolish you must look!” Gale seethed, pacing and biting the side of his finger before brushing it across his lips. He groaned and covered his face. “Get out with it, then, go out and face her - this is the cowards way, you know.” 

“You most certainly are right.” 

“FOR THE LOVE OF THE -“ 

“That is no way to greet a friend.” Tara sat idly, swiping a paw over her ear before bringing it back to her mouth to run her sandpaper tongue across it. 

“Tara! What are you doing here? How long have you been here?” His voice rose with both excitement and frustration. “It is far too dangerous for you to be out here, of all places! How didd you surpass the shadowed curse?” 

“Never you mind all that,” she said sternly, “I came to see how you were fairing - your mother and I have been worried sick. You vanished, without so much as a magic mouth spell to speak of your whereabouts.” 

Gale barked a laugh and rose his brows, shaking his head. “Tara.” He knelt, groaning as his knees faltered and brought a hand beneath her chin to scratch. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” 

“Hm,” she let out a satisfied purr, leaning into Gale’s touch. “No one get’s the particulars quite like you, Mr. Dekarios.” She let out a pitiful yawn and whine as she stretched, extending her body in downward dog. “We have a great deal of catching up to do. Before we do, for the love of all that's dear, shave. Then you can fill me in on what I've missed.”

“The day I shave this beard, Tara, is the day I shave you,” he said, pointing a finger to her in jest. His heart swelled with gratitude for her, despite her nagging - she had been a loyal friend for countless years. He was glad to have her here, now, before he had to go through with this. “I am so very glad you’re here.” 

Crunch. 

Gale snapped his neck, his eyes narrowing as errant sounds drifted from outside the tent. He rose to greet the frantic, inaudible whispering and opened the flap. Karlach and Wyll turned quickly, false grins plastered on their faces. “Oh, hey-ya!” Karlach said in a too-sing-songy voce. Gale sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Doing all right, Gale?” 

“Oh, you know, still alive and kicking despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay, coupled with the severe anxiety of revealing the truth to Tav. I’m alright, I assure you.” 

Wyll snorted and shrugged. “I’m not sure who you’re trying to fool, it won’t be either of us Gale. I watched you try to come out of this tent a dozen times today to talk to her, and each time you snuck back in.” Gale flushed, embarrassed. 

“More observant than I gave you credit for.” Gale mumbled.  

“Can we come in? The rest are out getting firewood and supplies. We can even go on a walk if you’d like?” 

Gale sighed, and gestured for them both to come in. As Karlach stepped through the threshold her squeal sent Tara’s haunches bristling and she lowered her body to the ground like a pancake. “Easy, Tara.” Gale chuckled, brushing a hand over Tara’s head. “Karlach, Wyll, meet Tara.” 

“Oh, what a cute cat! I never had a cat as a kid!” At this, Tara hissed and Karlach held up her hands. “I meant no offense, sorry pretty kitty.” 

“I am not a cat.” Tara said through gritted teeth and hopped up onto Gale’s bed, rolling into a delicate ball. Tressyum’s typically weren’t afforded speech, but the vocal charm was simple enough. 

Gale smiled bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Karlach, “She’s a Tressyum. I assume you’re not familiar with them, based on your reaction. Tara could manage to show you a bit more courtesy though..” Gale shot Tara a withering look and Tara yawned in response, stretching out a paw. 

“Perhaps if you had told your companions about me they wouldn’t have been confused, Mr. Dekarios.” Gale groaned and rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, it’s alright,” Karlach said, falling back into the chaise with her arms crossed behind her head. “Man, I forget how nice it is to spend time in here. So roomy and fancy, it makes me feel like a proper princess.” 

“Quite the set up you’ve mustered for yourself, Gale,” Wyll said, fingering the lace cloth that dawned the circular table. “I almost feel at home.” There was a reverence to his voice, a somberness Gale couldn’t place. He wondered if it made Wyll think of everything he had lost. 

Gale rested a hand on Wyll’s shoulder and gestured for him to sit. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I imagine you both have a bit to say. Can I offer either of you some coffee, tea?” 

Karlach snickered, “Almost have a proper bed and breakfast going!” She teased. “Hey!” She shot upright, “What if, after we get out of this, we open a B&B? Waterdeep, Baldur’s Gate, anywhere…” she sighed as she drifted into daydream. “Right, what were we talking about?” 

“Such… interesting companions.” Tara said, nestling deeper into the comforter. “What is all the fuss about, Mr. Dekarios?” 

Gale sighed, recounting the story to her. Tara needed little reminding of Gale and Tav’s shared past. “You mean to say the same girl from Blackstaff is the same person who pulled you from the portal? Mr. Dekarios, you must tell her.” 

“I know,” Gale hissed, rubbing his temples and sighed. “I know.” 

“You can do this, mate.” Karlach chimed in, and extended her hand for Tara to sniff. Tara looked at the hand with disinterest, giving one sniff before turning away. “It wasn’t right for Astarion to stir the pot - he has no idea what he’s talking about and, I hope you don’t mind, I roughed him up a bit to remind him it wasn’t his business.” 

“You what?” Gale felt the color drain from his face. This would certainly make things worse. 

“Not physically, I mean I gave him a little nudge that he complained about but when we were out earlier I pulled him aside and gave him a what for. Told him it was disrespectful and tactless what he did earlier, and if he wants to stir up drama he has no business being a part of, he can go hand out with Mizora and Zariel in the hells. Those two really have a knack for it.” Karlach smirked, pleased with herself. “It wasn’t his secret to share. No one messes with my mates. Even if you’re one of my mates that’s doing the messing.” Less threatening than he assumed. Perhaps Karlach improved his chances of success. 

“I told him I was going to keep my good eye on him.” Wyll said, grinning. “I don't know if our pale rogue has anything good in his heart, or even a scrap of it left for anyone. His heart seems cold as ice and it’s a shame he is trying to make you slip and get hurt. Perhaps I am judging him too harshly.” 

Gale snorted, “Unlikely.” 

“Hey now, it’s not our place to judge any book by its cover, or the first few pages.” Karlach insisted. “This isn’t about Astarion, not really. He just happens to be a well-placed pressure point. You were always going to need to tell her. Talk to her, Gale. And leave out hypotheticals.” 

“Talking. Right. I’m good at that.” Gale felt his body shake, trepidation and sickness coursing through every cell. Then, the sound of voices. 

“No time like the present,” Karlach said, slapping his back and stood, her and Wyll taking their leave. Gale followed. 

** 

As soon as they stepped out, Gale felt his body seize and try to escape. He felt heat rise to his face and wanted to turn and retreat. He froze and Wyll gave him a gentle push forward. “You can do this, Gale.” Karlach nodded enthusiastically and pumped her fist. 

If only Gale believed it. The others began filtering back and he steadied himself, inhaling and rolled his shoulders back, his chest puffed. “You are a strong, capable wizard. You are sharing a truth, an ugly truth and a truth nonetheless.” 

He made his way towards the others and their idle chattered died as soon as he was within earshot. The walk was awkward to say the least, the eyes of his companions studying him as he kept his eyes locked on Tav. Her expression was enough to make him ill. 

“Can I have a word?” He said, extending a hand to Tav and ushering her to follow. 

Although she denied his hand, she nodded. “Lead the way.” 

** 

They walked to the edge of Last Light, the rocky waters lapping against the dark shore. The air between them was suffocating. Agitation radiated from Gale like necrosis and he could almost taste Tav’s unease and confusion. “Well?” She managed, stopping and crossed her arms. “I think we’re far enough away. Out with it.” Despite her attempt to be formidable, her voice trembled. 

Gale bit the inside of his cheeks so hard he tasted blood and he shut his eyes. The sound of his heart drowned out thought, and he felt outside of time and space itself. When he spoke, his voice was strained: “I hardly know where to begin. I’ve spent countless hours imagining this very conversation and now that we’re here…” 

“Gale.” 

“Alright, alright.” He held up his hands and gazed at her. He memorized her expression, taking in how the light hit her features, how the fire tangled across her hair. Her eyes were full of tenderness, despite it all. He knew that wouldn’t be the case for long and the tidal wave of emotion broke upon his shores. “I… wanted to take a moment, to take you in.. I’m afraid I’m just about to remedy any fondness you might have of me.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair and pulled. “Oh, I have played this conversation over a thousand times and I still feel woefully unprepared.” 

“Please,” her voice was a plea, her arms fell to her sides and she looked helpless. Gale wanted nothing more than to hold her, to brush his fingers across her skin and tell her how much he loved her. 

He swallowed and began, “You remember our final presentations at Blackstaff?” 

She nodded even though her brow furrowed. “What of them?” 

Gale felt his heart shatter as he held her gaze, trying to convey the magnitude of his regret and desperation for atonement. His breath came in uneven, ragged gulps. “I….” He cleared his throat, “I may have had something to do with how your presentation transpired.” Gale wished he hadn’t been looking at her now as he watched countless emotions pass over her face before settling into a furious disbelief. 

“What are you saying?” Her voice was more taut than freshly tuned lute string. 

“I’m saying that I…” there was a pregnant pause before the words quietly slipped from his lips, “sabotaged your presentation.” 

A strange hiccup escaped her. “That’s not possible…” Gale watched color drain from her face, her body crumpling in on itself. Her hand flew to her forehead and she leaned against the rocks. “What do you mean.. Gale, what did you do?” 

The words flew from his mouth in a flurry, projectiles of shame. “I am the reason no wizard in the realms would touch you. I… managed to get my hands on a sussur flower and I slipped it into your pack and the water I spilled on you… well… it was wizard’s bane. A… backup plan. I just… we had been so competitive, no one else was nearly as capable as you and I felt so… enamored and threatened at the same time. You garnered so much favor and acclaim, so much attention from Mystra and I… I was a jealous, selfish child who had no concept of consequences or the pain I could inflict. I didn’t think your entire presentation would crumble so horribly, I thought you’d have been clever enough to foil my plan, I thought...” The rest caught in his throat when he realized Tav’s face streaked with tears. He fell before her on his knees, trying to take her hands in his and she pulled them back viciously. “Tav, please, I only wanted to-“ 

“Don’t touch me,” she said, moving away from him. Gale felt his body seize, icing over as her expression darkened. She began to laugh abruptly, almost maniacally. “I should have known… I should have known better… this whole time…” she shook her head and glared at Gale, her tone laced with loathing. “Were you hoping to sleep with me first before you had to say anything? Humiliate me further?” 

“What? No! Of course not-“ Gale began, scrambling to stand and she pushed him back. The gesture startled him. “Please.. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I would never have done…” 

He was interrupted by her derisive laugh that snaked through his veins like wyvern toxin. “Forgive you?” Tav scoffed and her body shook. Gale was enveloped by the waves of derision undulating from her. “I hate you.” She hissed, pushing against his chest. “I fucking hate you.” 

“Tav, please…” His breath wouldn’t come, tears began to pool in his eyes and his chest was gripped with fear. He had imagined she would react poorly, but… it felt as if an anvil had been dropped on him, as if he were being suffocated by a pile of boulders. The emotions that swept through him were unbearable, unlike anything he remembered. It was worse than the looming threat of the orb, worse than Mystra’s disdain. 

Gale wasn’t prepared for her hatred. In all the scenarios he played in his mind, he avoided acknowledging the worst possible truth. He had hoped, perhaps naively, she would understand. That the fondness that brewed between them would be enough to soften the weight of betrayal. It was not so. She shook her head, and began to flee towards camp. “Wait!” He called despaired, tried to follow but she was too fast and he was woefully out of shape. 

He collapsed to the ground, vicious sobs crucifying him. The noises were guttural, feral - he was a dying animal, wounded beyond repair, determined to meet his dark fate alone. He couldn’t breathe. As he gasped for air, Gale clutched  his chest he tried to ground himself to no avail. He was drowning. 

It’s what you deserve…what did you expect to happen?  

His vision blurred and he drifted out of himself, feeling his mind slip away - a protective measure. He felt warm, stable hands grip him and lift him as if he were weightless. “Karlach?” He croaked, his throat dry and raspy and he clung to her like a child seeking refuge. 

“I’ve got you, soldier.” Her voice was kind, gentle. “Let’s get you back.” 

[sideshow-cellophane-blog]

Wyll's Enchanted Boots: Part 2!

Act 2, also

It didn't take long for the group to come back. Tav, Gale, Laezel, and Halsin had spent a long day in the shadow lands searching for hints about a child named Thaniel, and had made little progress other than adding to their map, felling some enemy creatures, and meeting with some harpers. They would head northwest the next day in search of that inn they mentioned, but their day had been cut short to exhaustion.

Tav and Gale collapsed at Shadowheart's tent to heal while the others went off on their own. 

Halsin was used to getting looks from his new allies, but he felt more intense gazes as he headed back. He tried to meet eyes with Astarion and Wyll, who looked away too quickly. Both looked quite disheveled and flustered.

A smile tugged at his lips. "Did something happen while we were gone?"

"Hm?" Astarion answered too innocently. "Oh, nothing much. We scavenged a ruin nearby and found fresh clothes. Wyll found some boots your size, they're already near your tent."

Wyll snapped his attention to Astarion. "You-! Nonsense, Astarion brought everything back by himself."

"Don't be modest darling, not when you went through all of that hard work trying on the enchanted clothes."

"And here I thought you were the one to make those yourself. Seems I underestimated your mischief."

Halsin was too tired to mind whatever was going on between the two. He continued to his tent near the water and stripped off his armor piece by piece, sighing in relief to change into fresh clothing after a long day in darkness. 

The eyes remained on him, as they usually do when he changes. But this time something different happened. 

Something very different.

 He slipped into a fresh pair of boots, new ones that must have come from their scavenging, and he turned to check on the others.

He felt the boots tighten - odd - and as he took that first step he nearly crumpled to the ground. A feather-like tickle ran up his soles, and another after that. His face twisted in confusion, then realization as the enchanted boots started to tickle every inch of his feet without mercy. He chuckled and looked to Astarion and Wyll, whose grins were as wide as the druid's. He did not see Karlach and Shadowheart also looking, momentarily distracted from her healing spell. 

"Oh - OH!" He stomped his feet on the ground as the magic kept tickling, and his giggling picked up. Halsin crossed his arms over his stomach and crumpled to his knees. "Wha-HAHAHA! Whahat is thihihis?!" 

"Got him!" Karlach cheered. "Poor Wyll couldn't handle those things for more than a few minutes. Isn't it fun?"

"He couldn't handle being grabbed by his love handles either," Astarion teased. He pinched Wyll's exposed sides and got smacked. 

"I can't help my sensitivities," Wyll pouted. He fended off Astarion's teasing fingers as Halsin belly laughed harder and louder. "Stop! Let Halsin be the center of attention, will you? I've been tortured enough today."

"Hmph. I'd wager Halsin rivals even you Wyll! He's certainly as loud."

Halsin was fully lying on the ground, kicking his legs against the dirt. He tried to remove the boots, but they held tight to his skin. He flopped back over as they dug beneath his toes. A squeal escaped him, and he pounded a fist on the ground. How long had it been since his nerves were exploited in such a silly way? Had they ever been? Certainly no one was brave enough since he became an archdruid. He had forgotten how fun it could be, and admired how it brightened the team around him. They had all been so melancholy after the creche.

"Whoa," Tav breathed as they approached the hysterical giant behind Karlach. "Where did you guys find those?!"

"Astarion did earlier today near some ruins," Shadowheart said firmly. "He and Wyll were going at it earlier. It was his idea to give them to Halsin next."

"Stop dropping names," Astarion said nervously. "Stop dropping my name. Karlach brought them to his tent, after all."

"Yeah but he can't touch me without burning, unlike you Mister Giggles," Karlach laughed. "Halsin! You doing okay?"

Their favorite gentle giant was giggling so hard he could only gargle through half-started words and jumbled pleads. He kept his arms crossed over his stomach and rolled from side to side, kicking all the while. Tears of mirth were escaping the corners of his eyes. 

"Well he isn't begging for it to stop," Gale said softly. "I hope that means he's enjoying himself?"

Halsin nodded through his hysteria. 

"I don't think you can take them off when you're wearing both shoes," Wyll commented. "Astarion and Karlach got them off when they were wearing one boot each, but it was impossible for me when I was wearing both…So, uh, one of us will actually need to… step in here." He grinned at himself.

Tav groaned at the pun. "You guys were in camp tickling one another while we were risking our lives fighting shadow creatures? There was a massive fucking spider man out there, goblins, undead creatures...Godsdamn it all, why couldn't you wait until we were back?! I would have loved to see Wyll losing his mind! And Karlach can be touched with these?!"

"Oh yeah," Karlach sighed. "Wish it could tickle other parts of me…"

"We have to entertain ourselves somehow while you're away," Astarion shrugged. "And look! You have your giggley show now, don't you? I didn't think it would really be so easy to fall the mighty archdruid."

"IHIHI'M GOHOHOING TO KIHIHIHILL YOHOHOU!" Halsin roared. He wasn't really having a bad time. Their group had been through a lot in such a short period of time and he hadn't laughed so hard in many long years. Being the center of their delight wasn't a blow to his ego, if it brought a genuine smile to everyone's faces. "GeheheHET DOHOHOWN HEHEHEHERE!" He barely managed to sit up, his entire frame shaking with mirth. He took a swing for Astarion's legs, missed, and growled as he tried to crawl forward.

"Oh~!" Shadowheart giggled. "He's mobile, Astarion!"

"Oh fuck - I'll get those boots off if you don't retaliate! Wyll and Shadowheart already got their revenge on me earlier!"

Halsin lunged again for the nearest person and managed to grab Shadowheart's leg. "Nahahahat….FOR MEHEHEHEE!"

She squeaked and knelt down to stop his fingers from curling into her knee and subsequently thigh. "Hehey! I didn't do anythihihing!" Still, she didn't put up much of a fight when he pulled her down into his lap and started to squeeze her belly. She snorted and began to giggle with a very red face at being manhandled by the group's current crush - besides Tav - and subjected to torture.

"Bah," Laezel finally spoke. "To be stroked lightly and laugh in such a way - how human. And childish."

"Please, it's fun!" Karlach threw out her arms. "Gods, as soon as I can touch you all I'll show you how a proper tickle fight should go. You'll see Laezel, they're so much fun with friends! Wyll you'll have to be my first, I already know some of your tickle spots and your laugh is so sweet! Gods, we need to catch up with Dammon."

Wyll tensed at the idea of being under Karlach's mercy, giant that she was, and shuddered in secret delight. "I'd…I'd be honored to see your joy when that happens," He said honestly but very hesitantly. "As long as you show some mercy."

"I'll watch," Laezel crossed her arms, secretly admiring Halsin's mirth. "But involve me and suffer death."

"Now that I'll avoid."

"Hehehelp!" Shadowheart giggled. "C-cahahan't! Escahahahape!"

"GihihHIHIHIVE MEhehehe Astahahahariohohohon! HaHAHAHA!" Halsin bellowed out deep belly laughter again when Shadowheart stopped clawing at his hands, and instead reached back to claw his own sides. 

"Well if I'm being thrown under the bus I may as well deserve it," Astarion sighed and cracked his neck. Wyll was easy to defeat in a tickle fight, but he knew Halsin would absolutely kill him. "Tav? Or Gale? Get his arms up, won't you?"

Gale smiled and cast mage hand. It hovered in front of Halsin and Shadowheart, and with some extra concentration it grabbed Halsin's hands and lifted them. "Alright, have your fun."

"With pleasure," Tav and Astarion both descended on Halsin with Shadowheart. Halsin fell backwards onto his back, cackling madly. Fingers fluttered and squeezed over his muscled stomach, into fleshy sides, creeping into his armpits, tip-toed and counted out his most sensitive ribs. He roared when - Tav? - squeezed that most sensitive spot just under his pectorals and into his top ribs. Shadowheart was pinching the softness below his navel. He rolled back and forth in a new level of hysteria he hadn't experienced in well over a century - it wasn't unwelcome, but he was going to get them all back for this. Namely Astarion, whose fingers curling in his armpits and skittering over biceps were sending electric bolts down his spine. 

"FIHIHIHIGHT FAHAHAHAIRLY!" He yelled. "GAHAAAAA! AHAHAHASSES! YOU DARE ATTACK AHAHAHAN! ALLY?! HAAaaaaaaaAAAHAHA!"

"Here," Feeling more sympathetic than the rest, Wyll sat on Halsin's legs to try and pull the boots off - he needed some form of relief. "Don't go too hard on him guys, I'm sure they've had a long day."

"Mm, I did most of the work," Gale coughed. "I finally got my fireball spell back."

"Most useful," Laezel nodded. "But it was I who had the highest body count today. You merely helped weaken them."

"Well without my fireballs we would have needed to use a revive scroll, or Withers, with the way you charge into battle."

Laezel took a moment to give Gale the benefit of the doubt. When he didn't continue with an apology for his boastful ego she uncrossed her arms and hesitantly started to poke at his sides and ribs from behind in retaliation. She used softer touches that she observed being used on Halsin, and Gale's concentration was broken instantly to a giggle fit. He curled in on himself and bent over in vain to escape her vice-like grip, but she pulled him into her chest. One arm held his waist, and the other pinched and poked at it.

"Hehehey! W-what- Lae'zel! Hehe!"

"Say that I'm more efficient in battle than you are!" She demanded, gaining confidence now that he was reacting the way Halsin was. "Suffer my superior light hearted torture!"

"Aw, aw, guys!" Karlach gasped. "Guys! It's our first tickle fight and I can't even touch you? Fucking hells that sucks!"

"Want a boot?" Wyll quickly hopped off of Halsin's legs with the enchanted boots, just in time for the mage hand to disappear with Gale's concentration. Halsin was free. "We'll get you one of these days ourselves."

"Gimme one, nobody can keep me from being a part of this!" Karlach cheered and pulled on one of the shoes so she could be a part of the tickle fight that was breaking out. 

Wyll sat beside her and watched the madness erupt. "I don't think you'll need these boots when we can touch you again," He teased. "You'll have our very willing team."

With his arms free and feet no longer being tortured, Halsin had grabbed the person who wasn't running away fastest: Astarion. And that was only because he was pushed into Halsin's body by Tav and Shadowheart to avoid that very fate. The spawn squealed in fear, girlishly swatting at Halsin's large arms as they wrapped around him. Halsin managed to keep the vampire on his chest as one extremely large hand covered the entirety of his belly, and scratched at it with vigor. Astarion choked on his first cackle, and then the noises he made would have made one think a hyena had entered their camp. 

"Prank an archdruid, and suffer the consequences!" Halsin roared in victory. Astarion writhed like a flopping fish on him, but he held fast. "I'm coming after ALL of you!" His large fingers scuttled to Astarion's sides, then ribs, and avoided his swinging arms by going directly into his armpits. 

Astarion's arms clamped to his sides, quite uselessly, and he practically jumped out of his skin. "NAHT THERE NAHAHAT THEHEHERE!" He arched his back into Halsin's chest and howled, stuck on his back. With both of Halsin's hands preoccupied, he finally managed to roll off him to the ground.

The escape attempt was stopped quickly. Halsin sat up and pulled Astarion into his lap, wiggling his fingers in those death spots all the while. "I'll be staying right here," Halsin assured him. "To teach you a valuable lesson!" 

Gale made it to his knees in front of Wyll and Karlach, the unfortunate first victim of Laezel's merciless fingers. "Admit it or suffer more forced laughter!" She kept demanding. "I am the best fighter! Even now I have you lying defenseless beneath me in a hilarious fit! Suffer a most silly wrath!"

Unfortunately, Gale couldn't breathe, and therefore couldn't answer. Choked pleads and squeals and half-hearted attempts to get her to move were to no avail, and he couldn't laugh hard enough from the militant alien's insufferable tickle torture. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and it was all he could do to keep his arms firmly pinned to his sides.

Tav and Shadowheart looked at each other with bright smiles. Shadowheart looked at Astarion, back at Tav, and had to shout over the maniacal cackling and howling laughter. "Get his knees!"

"No! Really?" Tav didn't hesitate. Too excited by the prospect of seeing Astarion giddy and out of control, they knelt down in front of the pair. Halsin had wrapped one leg around one of Astarion's, but the vampire's other kicked dirt. 

Just before Tav could start squeezing the trapped knee, Shadowheart's nimble fingers wormed their way under their arms. Tav squeaked at the betrayal and was pulled backwards into the cleric's chest, just like Astarion and Halsin across from them. 

Astarion was bent in half in Halsin's lap, shaking and cackling with giant bear fingers trapped and wriggling in his armpits. He started to slump over to the side and was pulled right back into Halsin's chest with a shout. He was shown a slight mercy as Halsin finally pinched his way down to Astarion's tummy again, and the poor thing snorted and twisted. 

Finally, FINALLY, the squeezes and skitters slowed to pokes and slower vibrations that Astarion could breathe and gasp through. "Oh, oho, haha, heheh, f-fahack…Ah gahahads, yohou're evihihil!"

"Evil wouldn't involve breaks," Halsin pinched his hip. 

"AHA!...B-break? You're not blohohoody stahahapping!"

"Look around you," He nodded to the group. Tav and Shadowheart were making each other squeak as they fought for control. Gale was wheezing as Wyll tried to talk Lae'zel into letting the matter drop. Karlach was in the middle of taking off the tickle boot, watching the group too. She gave Halsin and Astarion a wink. "I've never seen anything like it. You have made everyone so happy this evening. Even if it started at my expense, I intend for it to end at yours. Shared delight is such a wonderful gift like that, isn't it?"

"Hah? HAAAAAAHAHAHA!" Astarion swayed to the side and managed to fall over. Halsin was digging into his sides again, and focused both large hands on scribbling into the one now facing up. Astarion could only battle weakly at the stronger man's hands. 

Tav and Shadowheart finally called a truce, and Lae'zel was showing Gale mercy only because he had started to wheeze more than laugh. Wyll patted his back as Karlach grabbed the boots to hide at someone else's tent. Halsin wouldn't be done with Astarion for a few more minutes. Noticeably, he wasn't begging for it to stop.