#Sunwalker’s Gift

[thatcerealkiller]

More HC for Spawn Astarion and Tav who learn that the magic in the Sunwalker’s Gift is not the ring itself but embedded in the ruby which wasn’t big enough to grant Astarion robust sun immunity. So they go searching for the original rock/mine it came from and after some blood sweat and tears Astarion has a new ring set and a pair of earrings at 4ct each.

[sserpente]

The Sunwalker's Gift

Synopsis: Legends say those who were cursed to live in the shadows are not lost. There is a ring, a ring of incredible power that allows its vampiric wearer to walk in the sun once more. If there is one thing you know, it is that Astarion—your partner, your lover—deserves to own this ring more than anyone. You put yourself in great danger to acquire it for him without his knowledge but in the end, you succeed. So now, what magical piece of jewellery would be more suitable to propose to the vampire spawn you want to spend the rest of your life with than this one?

A/N: Who’s the goose that’s on the loose…

Words: 1694 Warnings: so much fluff, mentions of smut, SPOILERS FOR ACT 3

Blood, tears, sweat, another suicide mission. The rusty ring in your hand almost appeared as if it hadn’t been worth it to risk your neck and sanity for it but appearances were deceptive. This unassuming piece of jewellery in your hand held the answer to Astarion’s prayers. The very object that had made this long and exhausting search so rewarding in the end.

He didn’t know about it yet. He had no idea you’d had a lead with this legendary object at all. And after months of relentless and disappointing searches, Astarion had all but decided the ring was just another myth created to mock him in his misery… to the very point you had begun to doubt your decision to stop him from finishing Cazador’s work and letting him ascend.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head to chase the thought away. No. Walking in the sun was not worth spoiling his mind, his very soul—regardless of the fact you would have never left his side. You’d decided that the night he had confessed his feelings for you. This man was to be yours, forever.

Now you’d give this ring a little bit of polishing, and a bath in vinegar and soap and then you were certain it would look as good as new. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face, to see the first moment he slid it on his finger and stepped back into the daylight without tadpoles and sacrificed souls. Nervousness washed over you when you pictured your plan in your head but there was no doubt—only excitement and impatience.

Today would change his life for the better. Perhaps one day, if he so wished, you would even find a way to cure his vampirism altogether but for now, you wanted him to have this gift.

Your shared bedroom was empty, the sheets unmade and the smell of sex still lingering in the air. You were still getting used to the nocturnal lifestyle, of course. Staying up with him all night and sleeping during the day was messing with your inner body clock but it was a small price to pay to be with him.

The wooden door leading out to the balcony was open, the barest hint of light pouring through the gap. You approached it on bare feet, the hinges creaking when you pushed the door open further.

“There you are,” he mused without turning around. Astarion was leaning against the metal railing of the balcony, staring into the darkness. A few torches here and there lit the still-sleeping city as the sun began to crawl up from behind the hills, the chirping birds urging it on to start the morning. He truly was a sight to behold—shirtless and pale, even with the everlasting scars Cazador had inflicted on his back, you were overcome with the urge to drag him back to bed and have your way with him in an instant. You did that a lot these days—giving him pleasure upon pleasure without asking for anything in return. Astarion had learned in a rather rewarding way what your mouth and tongue could do for him. Teaching him to be intimate with you in a both consensual and sensual way was a task you were happy to pursue.

You hummed in response, walking up to him to sling your arms around his middle from behind, the ring hidden in the pocket of your morning robe. You pressed the side of your face against his back, his cold skin cooling your heated cheek.

He had been doing this a lot lately. Dragging out the final moments of the night, catching a glimpse of the sun and Baldur’s Gate below him before retreating to the shadows again to ensure his own survival. No more. You sighed.

“What is it, darling?”

“Nothing… I just… love you.”

Astarion chuckled—a barely audible sound coating your heart like sweet honey. At last, he turned around to face, your arms still wrapped around him. You had to look up to meet those crimson-red eyes and the gentle smile tugging on his lips.

“I love you too.”

“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again, my love.”

“Nor I from you,” he purred. His smile was gentle, genuine. You’d fought hard to make him drop that wall of feigned confidence and reveal the real feelings lying underneath. Now, you couldn’t get enough of it. “Let’s head back inside. I’m starting to feel… warm.”

“Just a moment, please.”

The vampire spawn raised his eyebrows but waited nonetheless.

“You said forever,” you went on, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Yes?” He dragged the word out and smirked, reciprocating your hug now; his palms resting against your waist. His closeness calmed your nerves, encouraging you without him knowing.

“I… I want forever to start now. I want us to belong to each other and I want everyone to know.”

“Oh my… you’re feeling quite poetic today, my sweet. I don’t object.”

The first sunbeams hit the stone floor of the balcony upon his playful teasing and you could tell that he was getting nervous, eager to flee to the bedroom to avoid the angry burns he expected any moment now.

With a deep breath, you freed yourself from his embrace and took a step back to get down on one knee. It was then you saw the surprise dominating his beautiful face, his lips parting. Determined, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the shiny ring, holding it out to him.

“Astarion Ancunín… will you make me the happiest woman of Faerûn and marry me?”

It took him a heartbeat to remember how to draw oxygen himself, it seemed. He muttered your name under his breath, red eyes fixed on the plain but powerful ring in your hands. He didn’t recognise it, of course, didn’t expect it to be what it was. He had no reason to believe that this unimpressive piece of jewellery was about to return something to him which should have never been taken in the first place.

“Marry you?” he repeated, almost unbelieving. “I… I do, love. I want… yes.”

Yes. You smiled, the weight of uncertainty falling from your shoulders at once. You took his hand in his, sliding the ring on his finger and rose to your feet again, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him.

Astarion melted into your affectionate treatment without hesitation, yet you could tell he was holding back. Uneasy, he pulled away.

“Darling, as much as I would like to savour this moment, could we celebrate our engagement inside?” He glanced at the sun rising higher and higher. Any second now the balcony would be fully submerged in its warm light.

Instead of responding to his plea, however, you only smiled at him. You were certain this would work—you had seen the ring in action after all, made sure it was safe before you took it to your love. You had met up with Dalyria, one of Astarion’s spawn siblings, in secret, only two days ago for this exact reason and she had volunteered to try the effects of the ring—saying it was the least she could do in return after Astarion had freed them.

“I need to get inside!” You reached for his hands when he panicked, holding him in place. Only seconds later, you were both drowned in the soft morning sunlight.

Astarion squeezed his eyes shut and flinched, expecting the burn and the pain the day brought him—but nothing happened. He remained standing, the sunbeams warming his skin.

“What… what is… how is this possible?” he breathed out.

“The Sunwalker’s Gift. It’s the ring, Astarion.”

His red eyes widened, disbelief swinging in his smooth voice as he looked down on his ring-clad finger to admire the shining piece of jewellery reflecting the sunlight. “But… but how? How did you get it?”

“The mage we found and spoke to contacted me a few weeks back. He put me in touch with a bard who meddled with vampires before—two of which, after a couple of pints, revealed that the ring was every vampire’s secret dream and rumoured to have been buried with a deceased vampire lord in the lands north of Rivington a couple of centuries ago. After that, the mage and I returned to do more research and discovered where his tomb is located.”

“And you went to this tomb… alone? Have you lost your mind? Gods, anything could have happened to you!” He was trying his best to be upset, truly. You had to hold back a giggle when his voice went a little high-pitched. It was flattering knowing that the only person this gorgeous man had ever truly shown honest concern for was you.

“I wasn’t alone, I promise. I had help. Halsin and Gale accompanied me.”

“Halsin I can understand. But… Gale?” He pretended to gag, eliciting another childish giggle from you. But then, his tone became more serious once again.

“You did this for me… I…” The very hint of an embarrassed laugh clung to his words. “I’m not sure I even deserve you.”

“You do. I love you. And you’re stuck with me now. You just agreed to be my husband, remember?”

“How could I?” Astarion muttered your name again. There was admiration and affection as it left his lips like a prayer. You had no doubt that part of him was still processing what this engagement ring really meant. It was too early still for joyous screams and running across the flower fields hand in hand. “Thank you. This is… I did not dare dream of this and yet you continue to surprise me. I just… thank you, my love.”

You nodded. “I told you all I want is for you to be happy. I would have turned every single rock in Faerûn to find this ring for you. Now come on. We have a long day ahead of us and a wedding to plan.”

Astarion smirked, his red eyes sparkling with joy, relief and affection. “Darling… there is nothing I’d like more.”

A/N: I am so crazy for him this is abnormal even for me. I'LL BE GETTING A GROUP PHOTO WITH THE WHOLE MAIN CAST AT MCM, I'M SO HYPED!

[trashmancer]

Drawn for the Bloodweave Brainrot's Art/Fic Swap; in response to tuffgreg's incredibly beautiful fic "cutting through the cracks of the concrete". On the day of their wedding, Gale gives Astarion a Sunwalker's Gift.

[dhampling]

the sunwalker's gift gn!reader, 3.3k

“What is all of this in aid of, anyway?” He asks in a lazy drawl, seemingly unbothered. “The adventuring stuff. Do we have a destination yet?”

inspired by this ask where the reader finds a ring - after a lot of searching - that allows astarion to walk in the sun, and proposes with it. enjoy! wc: 3.3k cw: none. gn reader, fluff, all good stuff. no use of y/n. like one vague reference to sex. that's it. liberties taken with the idea of the sunwalker's gift.

Tardy.

“Here then, yes?”

A gentle dirt path carries to the town boundary, the marker one of dry wood and old brandish. Windows of amber; smoke rising to the stars, a biting chill settling on the ground as gateclose approaches.

You turn the map in hand to compare against the settlement before you.

“Think so.”

Astarion takes your arm in his, leaving the map hanging free in his wake. 

It takes all the will you can muster not to take his hands in yours and spin him in some sleepy glee-bound whirl in the sheer ecstasy at the thought of what you have planned - instead pulling each other something ragged down the slope in a half-step, half-cant; giddy at the thought of Firewine by a fireplace as your breath clouds the air foggy past your heads.

You’re in a position where - maybe for the first time since the Netherbrain fell - you can see the end. 

And it’s close. Ridiculously close. 

You want nothing more than to drop and do it now. Knees muddied in the dew-thickened dirt clod and breeze heavy with frost under the big pale moon - teeth chittering, looking up to him;-

Gods. You can picture it. His eyes hooplike with uncertainty, the one last drip of doubt teetering on his tongue - is this some kind of cosmic joke? - a quiet whisper under his breath, a little tilt of his head. Hair rippling in the moonlight. A moment of mutability as he reconciles all you are, all you’ve become together. That there’s a future in which sincerity is all he knows moving forward.

No.

Before morning, for sure.

-

The gate welcomes you in one last waning breath as the guards head to their watch turrets until dawn, and it takes a minute to truly come to terms with civilization once more. Your eyes flit to each of the little flickering lanterns and candles in windows; to the railings adorned with browning vines and disused terracotta pots.  

It’s been months since you and Astarion have been somewhat settled anywhere. Since the Absolute fell and you set off for adventures beyond anything you or he could ever imagine. Navigating the Underdark together, treading darkness above ground; wherever, it wasn’t of any real importance. You’d find lodging where you could, eat with whoever welcomed you; and you did it together.

Of course, your ulterior motive has managed to remain a secret. From clandestine discussions with the Society of Brilliance all the way back to the Gate; to fevered exploration in the deepest chasms of Sembia. Nights spent looking over the ferryboats on the Sea of Fallen Stars and discussing so many different futures the two of you could live. 

He is completely disarmed and unsuspecting at your side. Radiant. Hopeful. The world is changed and he wants to see every bit he passes with eyes wide open to good fortune.

“A town called Tardy? Really?” 

He sneers.

You shrug.

“It has a fun ring to it. Tardy.”

The word bounces on your tongue as you taste the mull-soak set between your teeth. 

A wordless mission to stave off the chill now has you settled fireside in the closest inn with mulled Glowfire. The clock ticks and there’s lively chatter a little behind you in the main tavern room.

“The Scoundrel's Cellar, though. Now that’s a good name.’

He takes a small sip. 

‘Why Tardy?”

You turn your head to him with a tight quirk of your upper lip.

“You’re asking me why?”

“Not really.’

Astarion looks at you and smiles.

‘It’s just… nice. To be able to talk at such leisure like this, I think.”

His cheeks are ruddied by the lashings of wind, the hint of a twinkle in his eyes as he reveres you. Hair a little unruly in the mop of curls atop his head but still unbelievably well-kempt for a man who's been on the road for months now. Lost wholly in his sheer exuberance, his joy in living despite the lack of a pulse. His chalice is close to his chest as he warms his hands.

You daren’t linger on your own appearance, thinking a silent prayer that the bathroom has a mirror. 

It’s a long moment before you reply.

“Yes! Yes. Absolutely.”

He throws you a quizzical glance but the smile doesn’t leave his face as he shifts to look down at his drink.

“I sometimes picture having a fireplace, you know. How-’

A brief pause.

‘How nice it’d be to sit by it, on an evening like this. Home.”

Astarion stretches a palm outward to the flame and closes his eyes, basking in the scalding heat. Amber shades. Pallid skin a perfect canvas.

“What would you be doing, by the fire?” You query softly as you watch the gentle flickers of his hand, outstretched.

“I- I’m not sure.”

Something resembling a coy smile creeps onto his face, overrun by a timid quiet uncharacteristic of your long-term lover. You lean over to him and take his nimble fire-warm hand in your own. A small kiss planted firmly on the hot skin.

“Go on.’

The willing smile on your face as you egg him on, chin to palm. He tilts his head coquettishly. 

‘What do you see in that beautiful head of yours? Because I can see it now - a sitting room full of tapestries and hangings; all of your design, of course. Patchwork blankets. Big comfy seats.”

“Ugh. Fine. Yes.’

Any ill-mannered jest fades almost immediately as he looks into your eyes and beams once more. He is safe here. He knows it.

‘I’m thinking big seats. Maybe-’

He brings his arms out wide.

‘Maybe this big? Possibly bigger? Somewhere to lounge, naturally.’

His hand finds yours in the low light once more, a tentative clutch as he maps out the vision in his head. 

‘Soft carpets on stone floors. Incense - none of the dull stuff though, darling; only pure patchouli - and… and lanterns with glass of all colours, so the room glows with light constantly.”

“So we’ve set the scene. Then what?”

Astarion rolls his eyes at you fondly.

“And then… I don’t know. A little cat on the cushions. Books, papers scattered on the carpet as despite the fact we have those big comfy seats; I’m not seeing myself to be inclined to move Her Majesty.”

“After the cat at the Last Light?”

“The very same. But I want a girl cat. Boy cats feel… weird to me. Cats are girls.’

He grimaces and waves his chalice-hand.

‘Anyway. Her Majesty on the lounger, me on the floor. I’m drawing up patterns early into the morning. Big, thick shutters over the windows; but it doesn’t matter because the lantern light is so vivid, and you;-’

There’s a feather-soft look to him when he does look at you.

‘Oh, you.’

You become aware of him drawing small circles with his thumb, eyes unmoving; unblinking. 

‘Always you. My love. Should you decide to join me in long-term domesticity-’

He plants a kiss on your hand as you did his. Your stomach is pure cream as you listen, nodding slowly with lids of honey.

‘Then you. Everywhere. Beside me on the carpet, laughing in that delicious way you do. Astride me in our bed -’

You smirk. He looks at you a little deviously.

‘Well, not just bed. Anywhere, really.”

“Is that what the loungers are for?”

A small grin.

“Maybe.’

You gesture for him to continue with a knowing grin.

‘Anyway. Yes. The future. Us. A townhouse somewhere in the Gate.” He sips slowly while pondering.

“What about younglings? You were fond of Yenna.”

The wine erupts down his pale chin in shock, eyes like saucers.

“I’m sorry?”

“Children.” You repeat, holding his gaze with firm affection. 

He moves to laugh but there’s a wavering indecision in the way his brows crease.

“Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. But if it is?”

He stops to think for a moment when the call for Grand High Lord Supreme General Admiral Ancunín - his favoured travelling name - comes from the frazzled barmaid at the front of house to signal your rooms are ready, and all discussion overruled by the fact you’re both bone-weary beyond belief.

As your hand moves to your pocket, you feel it.

Sequestered away in the little velvet box you bought from the Night Market months ago and kept for this. 

Later.

-

Hours on and you’re settled. A small room with an adjoining washroom - modest, but surprisingly comfortable; and just as you’d hoped, there’s a balcony. 

Astarion lounges on the bed with a large leatherbound book, looking fondly at you from time to time as you busy yourself with your recent findings, taking inventory and stashing bits away in their respectively labelled bags of holding.

“What is all of this in aid of, anyway?” He asks in a lazy drawl, seemingly unbothered.

“What?”

“This. The adventuring stuff. Do we have a destination yet?”

“No, not in particular.’ You turn to look at him over your shoulder.

‘Why? You’ve not been bothered before?”

“And I’m not now. But I am curious.’

He grins devilishly on the bed and flips the book closed, placing it next to him and sitting straight - legs crossed. 

‘What’s the plan, lover?”

“Who says there’s a plan?”

He’s got you right where he wants you. 

You feel yourself becoming giddy again - heart wholly aflutter. You’re aware that he’s attuned to the regular pitter-patter between your ribs and despite the conscious attempt to regulate yourself back to calm; you almost want him to find you out this way. 

“Nothing. I’m just wondering where we’re - well, wandering. It’s beginning to feel a little aimless”

There’s a moment of silence, prolonged as you fiddle further with your trinkets.

“I-’

You reach for the box in your pocket and run a thumb over it reactively.

‘I’ll tell you later. I promise.”

He looks at you with a curious furrow, trying to eke out a little more information in the quiet din but you’re wise to it at this point in your relationship. You simply yield into his glance with a pleading smile. 

“Okay. Okay. I’ll leave it with you. But I do expect answers!”

You heave a sigh of relief. He’s definitely picked up on it.

Once all of your spoils are packed away you take a trip downstairs to purchase more wine and request a bath to be drawn - after all, you’ve been on the road with rivers as your only source of cleanliness for gods know how long.

There are nerves. Of course there are nerves, small pins prickling from within and setting you ablaze with each new thought of him beside you for life, threads weaving a rich tableau life together. Lilting violins and piano sonatas. Finery for days. Some small townhouse, just as he’d described it downstairs. 

But you found the thing you’d set out to find on your adventures. Where you head next is entirely up to the both of you.

Provided he says yes, that is.

You imagine the worst possible rejection he could give you - “No, darling. Let’s keep things as they are for now.” - and yet the thought of him calling you darling in that syrupy murmur is rousing enough to keep you afloat. 

The bath is tepid, door open whilst Astarion watches from the bed between pages.

“More wine, love?”

“Please.”

Calm. Rain on the thatch roof. 

He perches on the side of the washtub, one leg crossed over the other as he passes you a glass full of red. Hums absent-mindedly as he swirls the perfumed waters with a dainty hand. 

Your mind drifts to the ring. How beautiful it’ll look in place.

He looks at you with that curious glint in his eye, and you roll your head to the back of the tub in an attempt at meek avoidance.

“Pretty.” He quips. 

You laugh quietly.

“Hm?”

“You. Pretty. Hair all mussed like a siren. A vision.”

He lifts your wrist from the water and kisses the back of your hand a few times over, while you squirm in jest. He only retaliates by kissing you harder with a fiendish giggle. 

“You’re one to talk.”

The lantern by the mirror lights the tips of his curls from behind. Angelic.

“Yes, I am beautiful. So are you. My darling.”

It must be late now. Maybe late enough.

As you lift from the water - assisted by your lover’s hand - and enrobe once more, you feel it.

Now.

-

Astarion begins his usual routine of light-proofing the room and blocking the shutters as the threat of sunrise looms on the horizon.

Well. Light.

The rain doesn’t show any sign of ceasing.

Nonetheless, you feel ready. A habit you can’t wait for him to break, checking the shutters for cracks.

“C’mere.” 

He turns to you and looks you over.

“Hm?”

“Come here! Please! I’ve got something for you and it simply can’t wait any longer.”

The box is light in hand, soft. You’ve checked it multiple times for the ring and all is in place.

The way he steps to you is cautious. Catlike.

“Is this the thing? Is it finally time?’

You pull him in next to you on the edge of the bed, taking both hands in yours.

‘I can see that little box. Hopefully a trinket worth the hours of agony I’ve endured waiting for you to reveal your secrets.” He grins, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

You don’t say anything, freeing one hand to take the box.

“This is-’

A sharp inhale.

‘This is it. Wherever we go from here, it’s mutually agreed. All of it. But this is what I’ve been looking for, hence my leadership skills taking forefront again.”

“Don’t tell me. It’s a Bracing Band!’

You shove him gently and he giggles, reinforcing his clutch on your hand. 

‘Okay, okay. I’m done. Show me.”

He waggles his fingers around your palm and grins expectantly. Gods. You rip the bandage off and open the box to him.

He’s seen a picture of it before - it’s in one of his books, that’s where you got the initial idea - but you know he hasn’t read it or he’d onto you weeks ago.

And he doesn’t recognise it. 

“I- What is this?”

A gentle whisper as his eyes run over the golden rays cast with aged enamel. 

“A ring.’

Astarion’s death glare takes a new form, this time wholly inhibited by the uncertainty in his frozen hunch.

You stand and spin to a kneel on the floor in front of him.

‘A special ring. Really, really special; in fact.’

Plucking it from the velvet, you hover the band over his fingertip.

‘Firstly though. Marry me?”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so completely and utterly shocked. 

Mouth firmly agape as red round eyes attempt to scan yours for any sign of deceit, jowls trembling a little in the yellow lantern glow. A small gulp as his lips meet once more.

“You picked an inn called The Scoundrel's Cellar, in a town called Tardy, in the middle of a thunderstorm; to propose marriage to me?”

“Had to be here, had to be now. Couldn’t wait any longer. You’ll understand in a minute, I promise.’

You rise a little to cup his jaw in hand, sinking into a chaste kiss. 

‘Astarion Ancunín, will you marry me?”

“Gods!’

There’s a brief tremor as his lips wobble, then a practised breath as he speaks. One hand reaches for your flushed cheek to mirror the gesture. 

‘Of course I will, you brute. Maybe you could’ve done with a better choice in ring, of course; but I can learn to love it, I’m sur-”

“You are beyond insufferable, Astarion. Kiss me right now.”

The immediately resulting kiss is brimming with yearning. A cup full to spilling as he takes the ring in your hand whilst you put it on him. 

He hunches all the way over to meet you on raised knees, grabbing at body-warmed bedclothes for one another; tenderly, in peals of quiet laughter between breaths and silent shouts.

“Wait. I’m not done.’

He’s giddy now, too. Knee bouncing. 

‘There’s a reason it had to be that ring.”

“It’s hideous, pet. Give me a reason to love it.”

You spin to your feet and to the furthest shutters, opening them a slight as he watches on in guarded curiosity with the biggest smile lingering on his face. 

The first hint of light. 

“C’mere.”

“You’re bossing me around an awful lot today, my darling betrothed.”

The weight of the moment is colossal, ocean deep. Despite his sheer joy he won’t come willingly. The burns from the dock the day the Absolute fell were molten for weeks and you still both have night terrors ringing loud with the sound of his agonising yells. 

A gentle hand extends to him. 

“The Sunwalker’s Gift.”

Then it clicks. Slowly. The final puzzle piece.

“No. Surely.”

“Yes.”

“It can’t be.”

“It had to be.”

“What if it isn’t?”

“Then we have a wedding to plan in the Underdark. But I wouldn’t traipse across the realms on just an inkling, you know.”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

“Well then.’

Your hand waits expectantly, fingers mimicking his waggle.

‘Just a finger. Please.”

He sits on the bed, spinning the ring mindlessly; before he looks at you with a resolute nod.

“I’ve trusted you with far worse, all things considered.”

Astarion approaches slowly and meets your hand, interlinking your ring fingers together and waiting for your word as you position yourself within the light.

“On three?”

Three arrives and nothing happens.

Hands raised, fingers lit in a single low beam of early light. Frozen.

“Astarion? All good?”

He moves your hands wholly into the light. Nothing. Twists the tangled fingers as if examining for damage. Rain careens into the window.

“I- Yes. Yes. All good.”

Dumbfounded.

You erupt into a bubbling grin, pulling him to the balcony doors and planting another soft kiss onto bewildered lips. Looking to the worn bronze handles with a brief head tilt.

A simple, overwhelmed nod. Brows knitted together in a milky daze, mouth slack. He looks like he’s going to collapse. 

The doors edge open and you cautiously step to lead him by arm.

Nothing. Not a single sizzle, no cinders. Forearm, arm, body; head.

No tug on your hand as he races back indoors. No wretched cries of pain nor gasps of hurt.

It’s a few seconds before he speaks. The sun now burns bright enough to see the streets below with razor clarity.

“The rain. My- my hair-’

Barely above a whisper.

‘Looks perfect. As it always does.’

Your eyes don’t leave him. Not once. He’s completely floored, gazing into the middle distance mindlessly. 

‘Love, sit.”

You gently tug an iron-wrought balconette chair over to him and help him to find purchase atop it amongst his overwhelm.

“I- I love you. Thank you.”

“Anything. Anything for you.”

He shakes from his haze once wet through, lightning on the horizon awakening the Astarion you recognise best. Closes his eyes with a soft smile.

“You’re going to catch your death out here, you know.”

His grip on your hand is vicelike, clutching it to his chest with zealous reverence.

“Then we’ll have to have a hot bath later. Right now though, I think a celebration is in order.”

You free yourself from his grasp for two moments, barreling back inside for the last of the wine and the large bedsheet. You place both chalices on the iron table and sit beside Astarion outside in fits of laughter whilst wrapping the sheet over both of your heads. He snatches your hand back and kisses it for an age. Devoted.

“To Tardy?”

He lifts his chalice in his free hand, and you do the same in yours.

“Tardy!”

[comatosebunny09]

Inspired by @sserpente’s The Sunwalker’s Gift.

Imagine being a shopkeeper, selling heirlooms and antiques in a quaint mom-and-pop shop.

Business is incredibly slow. You find yourself flipping through the worn, deckled pages of a book, your chin cradled in your palm. There is nary a customer in sight. Not since that new, mainstream jewelry store popped up down the street.

You’re about to close up shop early to enjoy what’s left of the day—it’s lovely outside. Too pretty to be tucked between these browning walls. But the jangle of the store’s bell lures your attention to the door.

Finally.

You look up as you prepare to greet the store’s newest occupant. But you forget how to talk—forget how to breathe—rooted to the floor like a basilisk has petrified you.

He’s ethereal amid the sunbeams pouring into your tiny store. All wintry-skinned, thin, and tall, dark lenses perched on his sharp nose. Rounded cheeks, petal-pink lips, and foxlike features.

His hair is what entrances you. Swaying like snowflakes in the breeze, and you wonder if it’s as soft as the snow it resembles. Vaguely, you register it sifting through your fingers, smell it exuding the faintest hints of rosemary and firewood.

The stranger surveys your shop, one hand tucked in his pants pocket, the other holding onto an oversized coat. Even his stance is princely. Nothing captures his attention for too long as he peruses through your wares, feigning interest in your rickety things.

You suddenly feel insecure; small—he strikes a picturesque figure amid the dusty antiques lining your shelves. The store across the way would probably suit someone so devastatingly beautiful better.

Nevertheless, you remember how to speak. Square your shoulders, plastering on your most welcoming grin despite your nerves exploding like solar flares beneath your skin.

After smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, you offer the customer a warm, rehearsed “Welcome!”

He perks up at the sound of your voice. Lips twitch into a half smile, silver brows lifting slightly. Your heart hiccups at the sight.

The stranger saunters towards the counter, carrying with him the scent of bergamot and brushed sage. It’s a homely scent. Somehow nostalgic as he leans towards you, tilting his shades down to ingest you with eyes the color of smoldering coals.

“Good afternoon, love,” he drawls, his accent thick with regality. The purr of it causes your body to flood with warmth. It’s almost dizzying, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

You swallow, your throat thickening with your voice. “What brings you in today?”

“Actually.” He looks thoughtful, a long finger tapping his chin. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers like all the world’s secrets bare themselves to him. “Maybe you can help me with something.”

You watch with bated breath whilst the stranger retrieves something from his coat pocket. It catches in the sunlight. Glints a pretty ruby red as he places it on the display counter with a resounding clack.

“I’ve been trying to part ways with the damned thing for ages. Yet somehow, it always finds its way back to me.” His gaze is far off for the barest of seconds before he replaces it with a nonchalant shrug, waggling his hand dismissively. “It’s long since served its purpose. An antique, if you will. I wondered how much it would go for if it still holds any value.”

He speaks of it so contemptuously. As if it’s been a burden to carry all this time. But it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Tarnished gold, carved with intricate runes you can’t quite decipher. It houses a gorgeous crimson stone that seems to hum and swirl with energy—with power. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light or your nerves causing you to hallucinate.

You’re delicate as you hold it against the sun’s rays, further studying its design. In your peripheral, you capture the stranger’s eyes, regarding you with something you can’t quite place. Disdain? Curiosity? Fondness? Whatever it is, it unnerves you. Makes your mouth fill with sand as you clutch the ring in your palm, intending to scrutinize it some more in the back. It radiates against your flesh despite it being so frigid.

“I’ll have to take a more thorough look at it,” you conclude, masking your shakiness. You muster another smile. “Would you like some tea in the meantime? It may take a while to appraise it properly.”

“No thank you, darling,” replies the fair-skinned stranger, leaning against your counter in an easy slouch. His smirk is back, boasting what you mistake for a fang, peeking through the plushness of his lips. “Never had a taste for the stuff.”

“Coffee your thing?”

“Gods no.”

“Water?”

He waves you off with a quiet scoff, venturing away to prod and examine the other little trinkets in your shop.

“Take all the time you need, love. I’ve nothing but time to spare. And, by the looks of it, so do you.” He eyes you over his shoulder with mirth gracing his countenance. A flash of affection colors his gaze before he busies himself again.

You huff a laugh at his peculiar mannerisms, disappearing behind the curtain of the back room to fetch your jewelers loupe. All the while, your mind swims with wistfulness.

You can't help but feel like the handsome stranger who’d fatefully wandered into your shop is watching you, burrowing deep into your soul, even through the thick veil of your curtain.

masterlist

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hello Dear! I usually just read and fangirl on your HCs and series hihi but I was just gonna try if you can do a one shot of this prompt "One night, he tells you that these last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery" I CRIEEED TT^TT when I got it on the epilogue and I just wanna get some fluff and angst around 👉👈 G/N Tav would be nice 🙏

I already did this with my OC Tav Tiriel in the fic The Rogue and the Barbarian but I will gladly write something else based on this prompt!

Aftershocks

Synopsis: One night, he tells you that these last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.

Tags: fluff

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion is in the dungeons.

It’s dark and damp, and he notices the chains nailed to the wall. 

His body is sore as if he was beaten. He sits up and grabs a fistful of his own hair causing himself pain.

Of course, it was all a dream. The freedom, those four months of having the tadpole enabling him to walk in the sunlight. The six months after, in the shadows, but free. 

You were a dream, too. It never happened. He is his master’s kennels, beaten and tortured and soon he will have to go on a hunt to bring another unfortunate soul to its demise.

Astarion rarely dreams but his elven mind is so broken he has acquired the ability to see surrealistic and very real things during his sleep. It’s even worse than remembering horrors because imagination knows no limits.

His skin will be flayed again and again. He will undress in front of strangers and will do things he doesn’t want to. 

The tears burn his skin as the dark waters drown his mind in misery.

“Astarion! Are you alright?”

The voice is so unreal Astarion can’t believe he hears it.

You approach and kneel beside him. Then, you carefully take his hands from his face to make eye contact. “A nightmare?”

Astarion stares at you as if he was unable to believe you are real.

But you are.

It wasn't a dream. He really did walk in the sun for four months. He killed his master. He set himself free. And all those six months he walked on the roads of the Sword Coast, hand in hand with you.

Astarion digs his nails into his scalp as the feelings overwhelm him. He doesn’t know how to deal with it. Sorrow, anger. How did they dare to take his life from him? How did they dare to make him a slave, to lock him in the kennels? Why? Why did it happen to him? What did he do to deserve it?

But there are other feelings. Happiness, hope, joy. 

He is free, after all. He had the gift of sunwalking for four months. He met you and he isn’t alone anymore. Your warmth soothes him and so does your blood. You are everything and more. Something he almost lost because of his blindness and inability to trust.

Your tender hands are stroking his back. 

“I am a mess, ain’t I?” he cracks a smile.

“We all are sometimes,” you tug Astarion closer and cradle him in your arms.

He lies like that, his head pressed against your chest as you play with his curls and lull him like a child.

Now he remembers. 

These dungeons are part of a long-abandoned castle. It was just safe to stay there without worrying about the sun. They just happen to be similar to the kennels Astarion used to belong to.

A mere year ago he was a slave. He would never believe it was possible to acquire all those things.

Freedom. A person to love. The whole world.

You are here to kiss away his tears and nightmares. He can drink as much blood as he needs, feeding on animals and his occasional enemies. You share your blood, too, and it helps with anxieties. When you sleep together you cuddle under a thick blanket skin to skin, and Astarion feels safe and protected.

Loved.

Fingers caress his left cheek.

“Oh, I’ve just noticed,” you giggle.

“What is it, my love?”

“You don’t have dark circles under your eyes anymore. And they aren’t that puffy! You used to look like a person who didn't sleep well.”

“I-I didn’t know you looked like that”

“You did look rather sickly when we met. Still beautiful, though, don’t worry.”

Astarion finally manages to relax. Gods, he thinks he's a wordsmith! He can't formulate a simple sentence that he's been wanting to say to you for a week.

“Love”

“Hm, what is it?”

“These last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery”

You smile and he can’t take his eyes off your face.

“I love you, Astarion,” you tug him closer. “You are the best thing that could have happened to me.”

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume

[chaoticbardlady99]

Colored Seams (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: Cazador is dead and the Spawn were released to the Underdark. You and Astarion could not be happier in the days that follow in spite of the looming Netherbrain Threat. You decide to do both of your laundry when a tragedy occurs- you accidentally destroyed his blanket.

CW: Dead Dove, Panic attack symptoms, fluffy, suggestive content, no specific pronouns mentioned or character traits

Author Note: Nobody’s Fool and Floozy are going to be updated tomorrow :)

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated- thank you so much for reading 💜 pic is mine

Cazador is dead- well he’s been dead for a solid week now, but, with the nature of this adventure, that even feels like months ago.

Astarion sent the spawn to the Underdark, he remarked his grave, and his spirit seems lighter. He has a lot more pep in his step, jokes more easily, and he has been very, very into PDA. Lae’zel has even gone out of her way to remark on how affectionate he has been with you in public.

Astarion’s confidence in himself is still a work in progress, but it makes your heart sing to know that he is slowly beginning to heal and you promised, in spite of the lack of sun your future holds, that you will be by his side to support him every step of the way.

He’s been exceptionally physically affectionate- you are still sore from the last several days of him ‘indulging’ in his newfound freedom. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are a mess, his clothes are a mess, and you are not about to let either one of you go out in obviously sex stained clothing.

You had decided to wash yours and Astarion’s things while he begrudgingly helped Gale retrieve old tomes from Sorcerer Sundries- Rolan’s recent instatement has allowed for Gale to read just about every tomb in the massive magic shop.

Ever since everyone found out Astarion could use spider climb, they have been asking him for his help in various tasks- he charges everyone (minus you, of course).

Gale had actually dragged Astarion along because he is technically looking for a book on your behalf for Astarion. He doesn’t know, but you and Gale have already begun the search for a Ring of Sunwalking.

Astarion loves the sun so much and you want to be able to give it to him- you all do. You could not be more proud of him and you find you enjoy acts of services and gift giving when it comes to him. He has had so little for so long and no one was taking care of him or making him feel special. You are very thankful that you get to be the one who provides him with these experiences.

For now, you don’t have a gift so you are going to surprise him with clean clothes!

He usually does the laundry because you hate doing it (something he learned and just kinda picked up on). You told him he didn’t need to and you feel bad for being a nuisance, but he would just roll his eyes, kiss you, and saunter off in the direction of the wash tub or wait until you are asleep so you can’t fret about it.

Astarion is actually quite adorable in his laundry routine- he even has a bag specifically for laundry soaps and scents. The man is right- he really did miss his calling as a perfumer.

You started with both your clothes. You used herbs for scent, soap for cleanliness, and Halsin helped to dry them with Wind. You then moved onto your bed sheets.

However, you realize you made a horrific mistake after it’s far, far too late.

Astarion’s comfort blanket, his first and only item while under Cazador, was torn apart. It had gotten twisted inside the sheets and it already hadn’t been strong enough to begin with. You didn’t even know you threw it in with the rest! You would never do that on purpose! You know it has to be washed gently and carefully.

“Tav?”

You are crying, entirely unaware of the fact that Halsin is widely concerned as you stare in horror at the murder scene before you.

“I destroyed his blanket!” Your voice is strained and your eyes must look as crazy as you feel because Halsin is looking very concerned for you.

“I am sure he will under-“

You are hyperventilating- there is no rhyme or reason and it doesn’t seem to matter what Halsin says- your mind is spiraling a mile a minute into oblivion.

He is going to dump you- Gods he may even leave and that thought terrifies you more than anything else.

You feel your lungs collapse in your chest and you can’t breathe.

You just wanted to do something nice for him.

You rush back to your bed after a brief pit stop at your shared room (you were forced, Gale was tired of waking up to you and Astarion being ‘adults’)- and you have pulled out every piece of yarn you can find. The majority of the blanket is intact, but there are chunks that have been unraveled.

The yarn is a faded gray color and all you have is your favorite color of yarn and a passionate hatred for mending things. It’s thankfully the same consistency and thickness, but Withers only knows how much time and patience you have.

Back to the room you go.

It takes you a few moments to study the pattern, but you immediately begin your work. Your fingers are pricked and sore, unsteady and clumsy. You have never been the best sewer, knitter, etc. so you can only hope that it can make up for even the smallest bit of destruction.

You finish right as you hear his voice ring through the main room- he is heckling Gale about something and you feel like you may very well vomit.

You had moved your things to the corner, just in case, but you still aren’t prepared to face him. Your tears begin to fall again.

You destroyed his blanket.

You are shaking and there is a lump forming in your throat as you try to stop your tears, ready to face probably one of the worst moments on this journey thus far.

He walks into your shared room- all smiles, but his mood quickly changes when he notices all of your things are packed away and your cheeks are tear stained. He looks sick with worry and now you feel even worse.

“My love?” Astarion’s frantic voice makes your stomach turn, “my love- what did I do wrong? What is it? How can I fix this?”

He is already at your side- Astarion’s eyes are filled with unshed tears and he is going to reach for you, but you just hold out the blanket between you.

The silence in the room is deafening and when he takes it- you clasp your shaking hands together and stare at your feet.

Astarion certainly must hate you- there is no way he can forgive you for this.

“I-I was just trying to do our laundry,” you whisper, “and I didn’t realize your blanket was rolled up inside our sheets and it… it fell apart.

“I tried to fix it the best I could, but I- I already know this is unforgivable and I am so unbelievably sorry, Astarion, and I know we are definitely over after this, but please don’t leave. I don’t want you to get hurt or turned into a mindflayer and if it’s that painful, I will just leave and-“

You and your rambling mouth are engulfed in a massive hug that stuns you to your core and you feel cool lips press a gentle kiss to your temple.

You fall apart- all the fear and anxiety from the last few hours has finally hit you. You are struggling to contain yourself and self-regulation isn’t happening. Every abandonment wound you have ever had has been ripped open and left to bleed everywhere inside the room.

“I’m so sorry,” you are still a mess, “I am so so sorry, Astarion.”

“My Dear,” he pulls back, tilting your chin so you are looking at him, “it is okay. I forgive you.”

You blink a few times with your lower lip still trembling. Astarion’s smile is sad as he wipes away your tears and kisses the space around the corners of your mouth before placing one on the tip of your nose. He smiles brightly when your lips finally curve upward a bit.

“At the beginning of this journey, I think I would have been exceptionally mad,” he admits, “but, now? Well, my Love,” he smiles at the blanket in his hand, “I was considering getting rid of it- it’s a reminder of my past in a lot of ways I don’t wish to remember.

“It’s perfect now- it feels like it belongs to me again and not the person Cazador bullied me into being,” his eyes glow with happiness, “I also know you despise this kind of activity and doing laundry- I greatly appreciate you doing both for me this evening, my Dear.”

Your smile cracks open your face and your tears are now filled with relief. You hug him tightly and he holds you back- equally as relieved that it wasn’t a big deal.

And it’s not- Astarion genuinely isn’t all that upset about it. Sure it’s not ideal, but you know what no one has ever done for him before? Fix something of his they broke- or at the very least attempted to. He finds himself grinning like a moron at your clumsy stitching and he adores that your favorite color is brightening up the blanket much like you have brightened up his entire world.

Nor has anyone done his laundry! You did a really good job too.

“You are very good at laundry, my dear,” he muses, “maybe I need to have you teach me some time.”

He can hear you roll your eyes as you put away your items again. Astarion began making the bed- you in all of your panic had completely forgotten to do.

“Oh please- we both know it’s a miracle I didn’t turn everything pink again by accident!”

You had made the mistake of grabbing a red bottle thinking it was laundry soap (at the beginning of the journey, mind you) and your stuff looked ridiculous because the bottle had actually been dyed. Your hands looked like you had just come back from brutalizing someone. Astarion had been the one to help you reverse the horrid mistake.

“That is a positive,” he laughs, coming up behind you and admiring the way you smile in the mirror while he wraps his arms around you, “I am glad I won’t be in some blotchy reddish, pink attire.”

“We would be matching ALL THE TIME though.”

“That, my Love, did not make you dying my laundry pink anymore appealing.”

You throw your head back with laughter- your makeup has created lines down your neck with your tears and you still haven’t had a chance to bathe nor has Astarion.

Astarion plays with the hem of your pants and kisses along your neck.

“You know, practice does make perfect,” he murmurs against your thrumming pulse, “and cleaning another would certainly be good laundry practice.”

You hum in agreement, “that is a good point and I could certainly use the practice.”

“I would be more than happy to demonstrate- I have been told I am an excellent teacher.”

Your grin is wide and your eyes are blown wide with lust- it makes him incredibly satisfied to see you react to him in the mirror and knowing that only he can make you feel this way.

You grab his hand, pulling him towards the washroom.

“We best get started then. I am an eager pupil, after all.”

Astarion’s grin threatens to split open his face and he allows you to pull him along- throwing the blanket onto the bed so that you can mend yourselves together in a different kind of way.

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

Doom Prompt 17: Drink

A writing prompt from my Doom discord, basted on the Garnets story.

has a mild hilt/spoiler for one living crucible that has not showed up. in the story. Came out that it was placed in a dream/vision world so to say for them to interact with the Slayer . 17: "John, Last Gift, and Sunwalker go out for a drink." ("Drink" doesn't have to mean alcohol, just something that makes them relax while they shit talk each other and reminisce)

“Aaand he's waking up. Morning boss,” a semi familiar voice spoke as John felt himself stretching, paused and felt around for Heather. Momentarily worried he had rolled over on the girl-

“What? Wait what?” The not really man blurted, then paused in confusion at hearing his own voice. He sat bolt upright, hands reaching incase he had rolled on the tiny fragile human-

And recognized Frederick in his phantom form. Blinked slowly before checking around them, seeing another all too familiar phantom, then the place sank in. The place was not quite in focus, as if the world outside of the two phantoms was not really there.

It was not, technically. 

John had to focus his mind for a few long minutes, almost at a random recent memory to get the world to snap back into a semblance of order. John found himself sitting in one of the still unused areas of Taras Nabad. Somewhere mostly quiet but sounds of life could and did echo from below up to him. Them.

John yawned, sitting up in a planter and reached out. Catching and easily hauling the startled, shorter man closer. Arms wrapping shamelessly around Frederick, ignoring the protests before John shifted heavily on the soul tied to him. Settled in this endless moment now that he recognized they were in the Eternal between heartbeats. His body was… healing John was pretty sure.

“Really?” The once human demanded, Frederick was very firmly stuck and pulled up into the planter with John.

“Yes,” a gravel voice rumbled out as John shifted so the shorter man  was sitting between his own legs and the war god leaned forward to rest his chin on Frederick's shoulder. “Mine.”

“I told you not to get too close to him,” a third voice spoke up from the side. 

John glanced over to see the other Phantom, arching an eyebrow at finding that one not in armor for once in their phantom form. Well, full armor. Sunwalker still looked like he was in light armor, at least around his lower half. The tall Argenta man had exposed chest, back and arms. Dark red tattoos shifted and moved along the exposed dark skin. As if climbing up one side and down the other on him.

John gave a lazy smile, “You think being over there will help you, old man?”

Sunwalker blinked, then frowned, “Don't you dare.”

The Slayer grinned in a lazy way, rubbing his cheek against Frederick’s head and shoulder. Arms tightened a bit more, knowing he could not hurt the other soul. The soul that made up the Last Gift gave what could be a sigh and leaned back, resigned as much as not really minding the attention. It was… oddly nice to be held in this form, not as a cubicle. 

Though Frederick was getting used to that feeling too… he missed having a body proper. Missed many things, but at least his surviving family was safe in the Fortress again. His baby girl was safe, protected and loved, Frederick could relax a bit as his phantom form leaned back into the other and lost the armor. The reflection of his phantom being dressed in jeans and a blue Hawaiian shirt. Grinning over at the other living crucible as he was pulled closer.

“What? Just because he likes me more, you're just gonna glare, old man?” Frederick asked, reaching back to ruffle John's short hair as there was a thunder deep chuckle behind him.

“He does not,” Sunwalker found himself glaring, blinked red eyes and bristled. As much as himself for that moment of jealousy that slipped out of his control, then realizing that the Slayer was watching him intently. He bristled again, because this was HIS chosen after all, and Sunwalker had…chosen the Demigod first, even shared his title with the Slayer-

“No fighting, you're both mine.” John smiled, it was lopsided with the pulling scars as he chuckled and added, “You're both pretty.”

Frederick burst out laughing at that, sagging into the hold on him. While Sunwalker looked puzzled and then looked downward at his phantom self. Trying to sort out what was ‘pretty’ about him- or was it meant for his crucible self?

In this place, the Eternal, John felt comfortable to show a bit more of his emotions. As well as the curious sensation of feeling and hearing his own voice without the primordial forcing its way out of, well, he did not have to die to hear it again.

“I'm prettier than yooou,” Frederick was saying in a singsong tone.

“You have no glyphs or history yet boy,” Sunwalker snorted, but was now at least looking around the memory of the world around them. Recognizing almost belatedly that it seemed like Taras Nabad. Only… warn down. 

Was this what his once home looked like as a Fortress City? It seemed abandoned.

“Sun, go around the corner, there should be a few barrels,” the Slayer said, even as he finally let go of Frederick to reflexively sign what he said, “I want one of those.”

He paused, blinking as if not used to hearing his own voice. Then mildly confused that the phantom of the Last Gift made no move to get away. If anything, Frederick seemed happy to lean back as if silently demanding to be held again not unlike Lily did but not wanting to admit it aloud.

John wondered if she got it from him, as he closed his arms around the phantom of his new living weapon. More than that, maybe not friends, not like they might have been if Frederick was alive. Definitely a bonded soul that the Slayer did not mind at all, and enjoyed when a memory was shared.

“Alcohol? Really?” Sunwalker demanded as the taller Argenta man came back from investigating. Holding a small, brown barrel between his hands, maybe only two feet long. “You know this would not affect you in life, let alone here?”

“Want.” John shrugged and made a clear ‘gimme’ motion without letting go. 

“It would be vinegar,” Sunwalker made a face as he set it in the edge of the planter the other two were on, it almost had them at his eye level. The older living weapon reached to crack the wax seal and opened the top of the barrel. Not sure what to expect but it seemed like normal, dark liquid.

“You can have vinegar if you want,” Frederick as he sat up a bit too look at the barrel on the right, catching on first that it could be whatever he wanted the liquid to be. Looking around, the phantom patted down himself, and caught color in his peripheral and looked to the left.

This was not reality, being like a dream although it was not one either. So seeing his favorite mug was not that much of a surprise as he grabbed for it, even being held tight. His fingers just got the handle before John’s grip loosened. The mug was large and fit nicely in Fredericks hands, it was a swirling, senseless pattern of dark brown and tan colors with a blue lobster on it. The inside used to be gray but had been stained a bit by years of being used for coffee and espresso.

Frederick loved this mug, the memories tied to it, not minding sharing the real one with John as Lily had offered it. The once human man dipped the mug in the barrel and pulled it back, looking at the now warm amber fluid as he took a drink. A familiar smokey, oaky taste with a bite. Though with memory it was not as much of a bite that real whisky would have. “Gods I miss a good, aged whisky…”

“I liked… whisky.” John muttered, finally letting go to find a cup to get some himself. Half on Frederick’s memory, half with his own to taste. 

This was not so bad, this moment that lasted forever, and after a quiet minute between them. There was even a feminine giggle and shadow of movement, the hell created crucible dancing on the edge of awareness. Not so fully bonded, but Sunwalker bristled even more. 

The Argenta man turned away from the other two protectively. As much as he did not approve of everything the Last Gift did, Frederick’s soul was still young and favored too by Sunwalker’s Chosen. The living Hell blade had him glaring and just seeing something child size with a heavy looking skull over her head almost hiding whatever features she used to have but for burning orange eyes. 

Moving almost too fast, Sunwalker lunged and the third phantom gave a delighted scream and ran through the ruins. Cackling in glee at what was a game to her as the Argenta tried to keep her away from his Chosen.

“Can we get him drunk, to chill out?” Frederick asked as he sipped, watching with John the chaos happening. Paused and hummed at his drink changing to a strong mocha.

“Hmm,” John considered it, “I… think I’ve already killed the titans old enough to do that to him.”

“Damn, he’s fat and old.”

“...WHAT did you call me boy?!”

“FAT and OLD!”

John grinned wide at the stomping coming back out of the ruins, and made no move to stop the fight about to start. Just watching as they could not hurt one another as phantoms or swords. He shifted to offer his cup of whisky to the girl that crawled out of the shadows and to look around him. The third living weapon grasping his hand and taking a sip, even making a face at the taste of the alcohol, but then when it changed to root beer took a keen interest in the cup.

[orilaiss]

Astarion and Lorena

Art credit: @a-cabin-in-midgard (thank you so much for creating this lovely art piece for me)

Astarion and Lorena had been married for sometime. They had been able to save some money they earned while adventuring all over Faerun and still had some savings from their time before defeating the Netherbrain. With this money they were able to buy a nice home in Baldur’s Gate to settle down for a bit.

Their home was beautiful, big, and filled with windows so that Astarion could enjoy the sun. After receiving the Sunwalker’s Gift ring from Lorena on their wedding day, Astarion soaked in as much sun as he could, never taking it for granted.

One morning, Astarion catches his Lore looking out the window pensively and nervously. He approaches her hugging her from behind settling his face on her neck to take in her delicious scent. She always smells of jasmine and lilies. Her neck is by far his favorite spot to settle in. Lorena is startled, she was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize he was behind her.

Caught off guard by her sudden reaction, Astarion asks softly, “Darling…are you alright?”

Lorena turns to look up at him. Tears in her eyes. Astarion bristles, while still holding her, he looks at her with worry in his eyes. He holds her face with both hands gently, wiping the tears off her cheeks and asks ever softly, “My love…whatever could be the matter?“

Lorena looks up at him, “I have something to tell you, but I just don’t know how you will react. This has caught me by surprise and I think it will catch you by surprise as well.”

“Darling, you know you can tell me anything. What is it, my love?”

Lorena takes a deep breath, “I’m with child…we are having a baby, Astarion.”

Astarion, looks at her in shock. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything for a while. Lorena places her hand on his cheek, “Star? Star? Star! Oh…please say something?”

“Are…are you quite certain?” He asks. “Very…” she says. “But how…I’m a vampire…I thought I couldn’t…” Lost in his own thoughts, Astarion suddenly remembers reading about Dhampirs. If a vampire drinks enough blood from a thinking creature, and Astarion drinks plenty from his lovely wife that she gives to him willingly. It is very possible for him to sire a dhampir child.

He hugs her tenderly, with tears in his eyes, placing a gentle hand on her belly, and softly says, “A baby? We are having a baby? I…I can’t believe this could ever be possible.” He places his other hand behind her head, gently tugging at her hair, “Darling…I…thank you, thank you for making me the happiest man in all of Faerun. You have giving me yet another gift I never thought possible.” He had lost his family centuries ago, he doesn’t even remember who they are and the thought of him having a family of his own, it is so wonderfully overwhelming, he can’t help but cry joyous tears.

A sigh of relief comes out of Lorena’s mouth and she sobs, “You’re happy? I honestly didn’t know how you would react, I thought maybe you wouldn’t want a baby due to our adventuring lifestyle.”

Still in tears, he manages to chuckle, “Darling…of course I am happy! Naturally, I don’t know the first thing about raising a child, and I never saw myself as a father, never thought it possible. But this baby is our new adventure.”

Lorena holds him in tears as well. “My love…we get to have a family of our very own. Can you believe it! And you’re going to be a wonderful father. This child will love you so much just as much as I do.”

Astarion, still in tears, says softly, “A family of our very own? A family…MY family…MY child…OUR child. Gods, I love you, Lore. You have given me everything…more than I could have ever hoped for.” They stay like this for a while, hugging, sharing tender kisses, both never wanting to let go of one another.

[dervampireprince]

ASMR | Baldur's Gate 3 - Astarion x Listener SFW Allowing Astarion To Walk In The Sun

[M4A] [Established relationship] [Romantic] [Kisses]

Based on a Patreon request. Charlie Rou asked "Or the viewer finding sunwalker's ring (special ring that actually exists in dnd made specialy for vampires so they can walk in the sun.) and gifting it to Astarion."

.

Old public spicy audios on sound gasm (link in pinned post). 2 Exclusive spicy audios on Patreon every month. I also stream on Twitch every week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit any of my content]

[erosathelstan]

WARNING: Spoilers for Act 3

I don't really have much BG3 friends irl and I have a lot of thoughts that I cannot put into proper writing yet so I'll just post it here:

As much as I love the idea of giving Astarion an item that allows him to walk in the sun (my durge also does that, bcs in my headcanon the "Sunwalker's Gift" is the perfect item to do just that) I just want to talk about one other thing that Astarion mentions about being a vampire that I don't see a lot of people posting about: the aspect of hunger.

In one of his conversations with a Dark Urge PC, he mentions being unable to speak and think clearly when he wasn't able to feed for a long time because the hunger deprives him of reason. During one of the post-Cazador dialogues, too (if you kill Cazador without him, regardless if you're DU or Tav) he talks about being condemned to an eternity of hunger without being able to make a choice about it. Freedom to choose and consent is a major theme in Astarion's story, and with Cazador gone, that hunger then becomes the primary contender for his ability to choose for himself, because that hunger can literally rob him of reason when left unchecked.

Yes, he's also a murder hobo and wouldn't even blink twice if he had to kill someone, especially if it's for the sake of keeping himself safe and well-fed. At the moment, considering that our Tav/Durge is also a willing Personal Juicebox™ for his twink ass, then the guy is pretty much food secure. However, I don't think that later on in their relationship, he'd be comfortable with continuing that arrangement with their partner - whether it's due to old age/sickness on Tav's part, or some sort of self-realization that we can all only headcanon about. Him hunting down criminals/vagrants/random strangers also inadvertently puts Tav and whatever home they've made in danger, as someone at some point will want to hunt the vampire that killed their friend/family/workmate/what-have-you. Idk maybe some mofo with a strong sense of justice will also eventually go after his ass because he's a total menace to society.

Fighting is not a problem, or at least at first. Tav can fight. Tav literally led the group into fucking up an Elder Brain ffs, so what's a couple of vampire hunters and/or vengeful band of misfits, amiryt? But again, it will be kinda tiring to have to always be on guard, because someone might just kill you and the love of your life because you fed on someone else's. Also, again, he can fight for as long as he needs to, but what about Tav? Esp if our Tavs are not from long-lived races.

Part of getting Astarion's life back has to not only include making him able to stand in the sun again, but also ridding him of that hunger. Vampiric hunger can be an all-consuming thing that could put both him and his lover in significant danger. Whether he as a character would want to address this is a matter of our personal interpretations as fans/writers/artists, but I personally want to see more of this aspect of his vampirism being explored in fan works.

Anyway, I have said too many words. Maybe I need to finally give in and go hunting in Ao3 for this type of content. But for now, I slep 🙃

[sserpente]

Astarion Masterlist (1)

In case no links are showing, that is because Tumblr is messing up. You can alternatively access my public Google Docs Astarion Masterlist which works on mobile too.

Blood on a Silver Platter The Sunwalker's Gift The Mistletoe Tradition 🎄 Magic Hands (NSFW) After Forgiveness of Blood

Imagine having garlic bread for dinner and forgetting about it when you kiss Astarion...

Imagine waking up to Astarion and Gale building a snowman at camp ☃

Imagine trying to pickpocket Astarion

Check out my blog to find more Imagines! Also, if you enjoy my work, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[paganwitchisis]

"Elven Judgement" Chapter 1

Title: Elven Judgement

Chapter One Title: An Unexpected Visitor

Rating: E for Explicit

Summary: Set after the events in Baldur’s Gate 3, Tav and spawn Astarion are expecting a new bundle of joy when Astarion reconnects with his parents. Things don’t go as planned with the soon to be grandparents! Expect drama, suspense, fluff, smut and an overly protective Astarion!

Word Count: 2,869

Pairing: AFAB Female Tav/Astarion

Warnings: Smut, pregnancy, oral, anal, PinV smut, creampie, breeding (kink), hurtful parents, mental abuse, violence (bandits), blood drinking, blood (wounds), protective/soft Astarion, adult language.  

Thank you @alyssac9 for proof reading this fic :) You're the best!

AO3 link here!

Story:

It had been a number of months since the Netherbrain had fallen, and the city had been rebuilding the tremendous damage from the final battle. Of course, they would be worse off if not for the influence and strength of Tav and her companions. After the battle, they were excited to find that the Elfsong Tavern had little to no damage, and so, for free of charge, Tav was allowed to use Duke Stelmane’s old room. That was where Tav and Astarion could be found as they moved from the companion room into the more private one. Astarion, yet a spawn, still feared the harsh rays of the sun once again. It was the day after the battle that she had promised to find him something to bring him back to the light he so loved. He told her that she was his sun, and it was unnecessary, but that didn’t mean he didn’t hold out hope that she could do the impossible. With the help of their friends who slowly left to go on their own adventures, Tav was able to track down the Sunwalker’s ring. With the help of Gale, Halsin, and Astarion, they were able to finally retrieve the artifact and bring the vampire into the sun’s gentle light once more.

This was also when they found out Tav was pregnant.

It was against all odds as Tav was a human baring an elf’s child and a vampire at that, but Halsin was clear that the child was a dhampir. The reason this was so impossible was that elves could only have children if another elf died. Additionally, a dhampir was rare on its own. Astarion never doubted the child was his, but at first, he was in a state of panic. Would he make a good father? Could Tav survive having a vampiric child? What would their lives be like now? There were more questions than answers; however, after some time alone with Tavaria, he was able to calm down and eventually accepted the news. He even found himself excited, thinking about what a product of their union would look like, and they played around with names once Halsin confirmed the child was a boy. To protect Tav and because it was still early in the pregnancy, Tav and Astarion had asked Halsin to keep it between themselves.

Although they could tell the sex thanks to magic, Tav was only seven weeks along in her pregnancy.

In the end, Halsin and Gale were the last ones left with the couple as Gale was studying something important, or so he claimed and needed the help of Sorcerer's Sundries. Halsin had returned from his adventures once Tav was confirmed to be pregnant, having left briefly before finding the Sunwalker’s Ring. He was in Baldur’s Gate for business when he was recruited to help find the artifact but since finding out Tav’s condition, he elected to stay in the city until her birth. He felt she would need someone she could rely on to help her with such a wonderful gift from the Oak Father and they agreed. Since then, Halsin has been trying to work with the elder Ravengard to incorporate more of nature’s beauty into the city and bring balance to Baldur’s Gate.

A week later, Tav and Astarion held each other’s hands and made their way to the graveyard as it was the one-year anniversary since Astarion said he would live, since Cazador’s death, and since the couple agreed to make it his new birthday since he couldn’t remember his. The day started playfully as the couple spent a lazy day kissing and holding each other until Astarion went for his usual butcher run. He found getting blood was a lot easier in the city as the local butchers were more than happy to offload the stuff under a different guise. He would tell them he was making blood sausage, or some other item requiring it and would have enough delivered for weeks.

Then that evening, the couple went to the graveyard once again since that night a year ago.

Tav and Astarion had rounded the bend and were surprised that the graveyard still had a few occupants. It wouldn’t disturb their plans too much, they still planned on celebrating at the tavern in private compared to how they celebrated a year ago. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t up to celebrating the way they did before. It was Astarion who refused this option. Ever since she was found to be pregnant, heAstarion has been very protective of her and felt she deserved plush pillows and soft blankets rather than the cold earth to be bedded on. She tried to argue with him, but he would not hear of it.

To Astarion, Tav would be treated like a queen as she carried life inside her. Not that he wouldn’t treat her that way anyway, regardless. He has made it known often how much he loved her.

As Tav and Astarion walked into the graveyard, she noted that there were a few children among the mourners. They paid them no heed and walked further up the pathway. Astarion paused for a moment, startling her who was unsure why he stopped abruptly.

“You okay?” Tav asked concerned, tightening her lock on his hand.

“There is someone near my headstone.” Astarion murmured. Tav looked ahead and could see an elven woman in a white coat, blue trousers, and silver hair. Her back was turned to Tav so that was the extent she could make out of her features. Astarion shook his head, muttering under his breath.

“It can’t be…”

“What can’t be?” Tav asked as Astarion’s eyes grew wide.

“Who would be at my tombstone darling?”

“Only family or friends I would assume?”

“Exactly. I don’t know who she is, but she seems...familiar to me.”

Tav let go of his hand and turned in his direction before speaking next. “What do you want to do?”

“I should speak to her.” Astarion took back Tav’s hand and went to move, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Love?”

“If she really is family, shouldn’t you see her alone?” Tav asked meekly, glancing down at the surface of the ground as she said this rather than looking Astarion in the eyes.

“We really need to work on your self-esteem, darling. For the thousandth time, you’re my family.” Astarion placed his hand on her lower belly. “Both of you are. Now let’s both go see what’s going on?” Astarion removed his hand from her stomach and kissed her on the forehead. She smiled slightly and looked up at him.

“There’s my girl.” Astarion purred at Tav’s smiling face and led her by the hand to the grave.

Once they approached, the woman turned to see who they were and Tav was astounded. This woman had green eyes, higher cheekbones and her nose was slightly more blunted than Astarion’s but otherwise, she looked almost the same as her lover. The woman looked like she was also perplexed and looked between the tombstone and the man before her. She began to cry, sobbing as she cried out.

“As—Astarion?”

Astarion gave no reaction except to hold Tav’s hand tightly as the woman threw her arms over the vampire’s shoulders and hugged him, crying into his armor.

“Excuse me,” Astarion pulled back a little so he could see who she was, “but who are you?”

The woman looked shocked and backed away as if Astarion was made of fire.

“You’re joking right?” The woman exclaimed.

“Astarion?” Tav called out his name questioningly. “I think she might be your mother.” Tav tried to help Astarion out with his quandary.

“Who are you? And Astarion, what do you mean, who am I? Don’t you recognize your own mother? And why does that,” the woman pointed at the tombstone, “have your name on it?”

Astarion had faint memories of this woman but nothing of any substance. He suspected that what Tav said was true. The woman looked just like him, something he knew only because Tav had linked her tadpole to his a few times back during the time of the absolute. She wanted him to see what he looked like, and it was simpler than paying for a painting or a drawing of such a thing. That wasn't the only thing they did with the tadpoles but that was neither here nor there.

“I don’t know you because I don’t know my past, and that,” Astarion also gestured to the tombstone, “is harder to explain.” Astarion wrapped his arm around Tav’s waist and pulled her close. “And she is with me.”

“So, you don’t recognize me?”

“You’re familiar but that’s all I can say,” Astarion confirmed.

“I have so many questions…” The woman exclaimed.

“So do I.”

“Why not meet up for lunch tomorrow?” Tav offered as an option as talking and catching up in the graveyard was not an ideal location. Additionally, Tav could see that Astarion may need some time to come to grips with the fact that his mother is back and could be in his life again.

“That’s a great idea, darling,” Astarion said with a smile while the woman who stood over by his tombstone seemed upset at the suggestion.

“Fine.” The woman snapped. “Where and when?”

“How about noon? At the Elfsong tavern?”

The woman nodded, and Astarion turned to leave, but before they could, Tav asked the woman.

“What’s your name?”

“Silwen...Silwen Ancunin” With that, Astarion and Tav turned to leave when Silwen called out, back asking what Tav’s name was as well.

“Tavaria Stormgleam” The woman glared at Tav as the couple left and returned to the Elfsong, leaving Silwen behind.

The walk back was a somber one as Astarion stayed silent during the trip back which was a bit unusual for the elf. Tav didn’t pry or push the subject and instead intended to give him space to process it all. He reached out to her and clasped his hand in hers as they drew close to the tavern. He went up the stairs and led her to their room. He locked the door behind them, turned around, and began kissing her passionately.

Tav moaned into the kiss but pulled away, “Are you okay?”

Astarion paused and sat on the edge of the bed, patting the comforter next to his thigh, asking for her to join him. She did just that and sat down next to him.

“I might have my mother back in my life and I don’t know what that means.”

“Are you... happy to meet your mother?”

“I should be but I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t remember her. I have fleeting images of her in my head but that’s all.”

“Do you want to get some rest? I’ll massage your back if you like.”

Astarion undid the clasps on his armor, tossing it to the side as he nodded. Tav took off her armor as well and started the bath, knowing he would love to get into it after his massage. It was a ritual of sorts that they did when he was having trouble with his emotions. She would soothe him and comfort him and they’d get a bath together, washing the dirt and grime away from each other’s bodies. She made the water fairly hot so the heat would last until she finished her massage. Astarion tossed his shirt and pants off, leaving him only in his embroidered blue underwear. Tav joined him in his level of undress. She took off her pants and shirt along with her breast band before watching him lay down on the bed on his stomach.

Tav grabbed some lavender oil they use during their bath once in a while and applied it to her hands. She, only clad in her underwear, mounted and straddled the elf on his rear. She rubbed her hands together to lather her hands in the oil before bringing it down on her lover’s soft flesh. She usually avoided the scars but as of late, he would ask her to massage them as well. He claimed that they would get stiff and hurt him if she didn’t give him the attention he needed on his back.

“The scars. Do you…”

“Please.” Astarion sounded a bit meek or lost in thought as he replied but Tav heard him anyway. She began to sensually massage his back and work out a few pesky knots. He moaned as she did so, her gentle fingers rubbed into his shoulders and then the shoulder blades. Eventually, she found herself working on his lower back, gasps and moans escaping her lover as she progressed. She worked his muscles until she got to his backside, where she stopped and patted his ass cheek to get his attention.

“Time to get clean honey.”

“Mmm, that felt good.” Astarion slowly sat up and stripped himself of his underwear. The original idea was to make love on his birthday, Tav suspected, but after the day's situation, she was certain that the plans had changed. It didn’t bother her. She was understanding and caring in regard to Astarion. She knew his past had tinted his view of sex, but since they defeated Cazador, the pair had discovered his sex drive was on par with her own. They made love often and vigorously the year before. When she began to show symptoms of her morning sickness, she found her libido had become enhanced as well. This was something Astarion loved. He loved that his seed would make her stomach round, and he loved the idea of making love to her.

Tonight though?

Tonight was for love in the most comforting sense, not for carnal pleasure.

Tav stripped off her underwear and followed Astarion as he got into the tub. It was a large tub and big enough for the both of them to fit comfortably together. He groaned in pleasure as his body sank into the heated water. He grabbed the rag and soap on the edge of the tub and got closer to his lover who was now fully seated in the water. He began to bathe her and kissed her lovingly. She let her hand run down his chest lightly, the smell of lavender still wafting from him due to the oil on his back.

Astarion got to her hair and began to clean that as well, earning a low moan when his fingernails scrubbed her scalp. He smiled and finally began to speak some more.

“Like that?”

“You know I do. Now let me return the favor.”

Tav began to do the same as well except when she got to scrubbing his hair, she jokingly gave Astarion a Mohawk thanks to the lather from the shampoo in his hair. He giggled and went to tickle her who almost evaded him. He got her ankle and began to kiss the instep on her foot.

Astarion rinsed his hair and enjoyed the time they had together, but he wanted to make some things clear to Tav before the next day.

“You know, if she becomes my mother or doesn’t, you’re still the most important person to me.”

“Huh?”

“Well, one of. The little one is tied with you.” Astarion chuckled.

“You can’t know that, I mean…”

“I know what you’re thinking my love. You’re everything to me and I love you. Don’t you dare think of yourself any other way. Now…” Astarion stood up in the tub, “This water is getting cold.”

“About tomorrow,” Tav asked as she followed him out of the tub and dried each other off. “Are you going to tell her the truth?” Tav mentioned worried about how she would react to his vampirism.

“I plan to. I’ll have you with me in case it goes south anyway.”

“I thought you wanted to go alone?”

Astarion heavily sighed and said, “I want you with me. I told you, you’re my family. Not some woman I only just met.”

“If you’re sure.”

Astarion walked over to the bed, naked as a bird, and pulled back the covers. “I’m sure, my love; now let’s get some sleep.” Tav walked over to the bed and curled up against her lover, his head on her breasts and their legs interlocking. It was going to be an experience for Astarion the next day, and she was determined to provide support if that’s what he wished. She fell asleep, her lover whispering “I love you” in her ear as sleep beckoned her. She smiled; he was her world, and she loved him. Astarion was her family too and nothing would get between them.

[askastarion]

Tav snuck away from Astarions tent, they were sure no one had seen them getting in or out, "good, to bed now" they whispered under their breath, a mischievous glint in their eye that was there due to the little gift they had left beside Astarions bed, a few paper flowers made with the pages of a book Tav had been reading a, they had stolen it while on a little machination they had planned near a huge library.

It was kind of an innocent prank, if it could even be called a prank, it was a little gesture the childish elf couldn't help but giggle at, they hadn't sat down and just made something for someone for a while if it wasnt in a life or death circumstance for a stranger so it felt nice to just sit down and work on something softer and meaningful for their traveling companion.

What would be his face when he read the pages of the neatly folded flowers? "the cloak of dragomir" and "ring of the sunwalker" it read in bold letters written in a beautiful bright blue. Tav thought to themselves, slowly relaxing and resting in silence when a soft rustling brought them back to the present.

Astarion let out a yawn as he sidled into his tent in the dead of night. He was exhausted. Fighting mindflayers and goblins at every turn was fun, and a much better break than where he was just before the Nautiloid snatched him up. But it was a lot of hard work... So when he spun and let him fall back into the embrace of his bed, ready to fall into meditaion, it took him a moment to notice that a piece of paper had wafted upward and landed on his nose.

"Mmph... What?" He gasped, picking up the piece of paper and seeing a... a little flower? He paused, examining it for a moment. A gift...? That was nice, actually. He didn't normally like people coming into his tent without him knowing, but glancing blearily around, it didn't look like anyone had messed with any of his stuff... And the flower origami reminded him of his youth. There were no space for such sweet little wastes of time.

But when he unfolded it... his eyes widened and he shot up in bed. The cloak of Dragomir... That would help him so much. he glanced down around him and found the other note, looking shocked as he unwrapped and read the page. Why did someone leave these here...? Were they going to be searching for these items? There was only one person who...

He stuck his head out of his tent flaps. "Tav!" he yelped, hurrying toward their tent.

[dhampling]

˗ˏˋ i'm dal - she/‎‎‎her. 24. ˎˊ˗ astarion x reader content • 18+ only, minors dni! ‎‏‏‎ ꙳⊹ ﾟ⋆ • about me • ko-fi • ao3 • my caps • © BLOODSOEUR. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works.

butter gn!reader, 2.5k you and the vampire spend a short gloaming sun discussing marriage

both free gn!reader, 2.1k you reject bhaal’s greatest gift - to this, your horrified love bears witness

one mine, both yours bard gn!reader, 1.6k astarion’s habit of visiting your tent leads him to your hidden pile of sonnets

the shepherd, the black sheep gn!reader, 2k a plummet into a chasm leaves you and your light-fingered friend stuck. together, you wonder if you’ll ever emerge again.

sylvan gn!reader, 2.8k a chance series of encounters in youth come together on one night, where everything just clicks for Astarion and his unicorn.

the sunwalker's gift gn!reader, 3.3k you find a ring - after a lot of searching - that allows astarion to walk in the sun, and propose with it.

gush fem!reader, 2.2k (NSFW) it rains. you swindle some wine and astarion cums in his breeches.

oh, mother fem!reader, 3.3k (NSFW) it’s the mummy fic.

lifeblood fem!reader, 2.5k (NSFW) astarion discovers an aphrodisiac during a trip to the night market, and only one thing is on his mind.

ivory tower fem!reader x ascended!astarion, 4.6k (NSFW) you're still mortal, and there's good reason for it.

warming fem!reader 1.2k (NSFW) early morning feeding and cockwarming because i said so.

swell fem!reader 1.9k (NSFW) feral pregnant sex with the elf. inspired by this NSFW piece by the ridiculously talented @mutualcombat.

leeches girl!dadstarion, <1k astarion and his daughter have a spat.

little love girl!dadstarion, <1k dadstarion watches dhampling sleep.

bramble jam girl!dadstarion, <1k “In what realm would we need this much jam?”

the gate girl!dadstarion, 1.5k astarion is a school-gate dilf on his first pick-up adventure with you.

sunburn girl!dadstarion, <1k dhampling gets sunburnt!

introducing the siblings girl!dadstarion (inbox prompt) "I had this image in my mind of him introducing the older girls to their new baby sister each time and just being sweet and cute"

breakfast girl!dadstarion (inbox prompt) astarion trying to make breakfast for the growing brood while tav/reader is like, "my love, you wanted this"

bump dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) astarion being a lil shit and causing more kicks talking to and touching tav's baby bump as tav tries to rest?

stretch marks dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) Imagine a tav who’s really insecure about these marks [...] and when they bring it up to astarion he decides the best course of action is to show them how much he loves them.

snuggles dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) when tav is pregnant astarion would love snuggling up to their baby bump - curling around them and listening for signs of their little one

shallow bites girl!dadstarion (inbox prompt) "I think it would be really funny if astarion and tav’s daughter was practicing her bites and pickpocketing on the two of them, respectively. [...] No ancunín is going to grow up being a half-rate pickpocket!"

hugs from behind dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) "hugging the other from behind" from this list of prompts with astarion hugging his very tall, very pregnant wife from behind because I think the image of it is so cute.

tiefling tav showing affection via their tail tief!reader (inbox prompt)

valentine's day with astarion gn!reader (inbox prompt)

earthbound astarion x earth!born reader (inbox prompt) "how do you think astarion would handle a tav who is actually from earth and is going to return home after defeating the netherbrain?"

reunited astarion x earth!born reader (inbox prompt) "a follow-up to earth tav somehow reuniting with astarion, via reincarnation or another divine intervention"

patience gn!reader (inbox prompt) "hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" from the one-liners list"

baking gn!reader (inbox prompt) "ASTARION GETTING INTO BAKING AND ASKING YOU TO SAMPLE ALL OF HIS BAKES"

thulsun fem!reader, not tav! 3.7k (NSFW) under rework! astarion appears at your parlour one evening in a cloud of smoked bergamot and the briefest hint of spunk, and it becomes oh-so difficult to watch him leave.

three, minimum fem!reader, 4.3k (NSFW) astarion has been planning, for the first time in his life. He wants babies.

nought point five fem!reader, 4.7k (NSFW) seven months along, he’s besotted with every pregnant piece of you.

one fem!reader, 2k astarion is a newly-minted girldad. that’s it. that’s the plot.

one more fem!reader, 2.9k (NSFW) your home is quaint. astarion continues to insist it isn’t busy enough.

(astarion x fem!reader au, NSFW) he's a potwasher. you want to fuck the potwasher. this started as a joke and now i'm obsessed. enjoy.

one two

[gautiersylvain]

yes vati and ast/////arion get married like 5 or so years after the game and sha/////dowheart marries them and all their friends are there and it's beautiful and it's a pretty informal relaxed ceremony and it's like....they arent doing it for the recognition of the gods, they're doing it for themselves and so vati can say THAT'S MY WIFE and knock someone out with a punch if they bother ast//////arion

they actually wear their rings for years before this lmao, she gifts him a sunwalker ring she crafted with ga////le and later he gifts her a ring with the ability to cast selune's ire but yes those are their wedding rings