#also astarion how are you cold you are literally a vampire

[sparemoon]

ok but i literally had to draw this though???

[rackartyg]

in therapy today i just talked about the dark urge and astarion and my therapist was elated about it. it was fantastic. “wow you’ve really been using this story and those characters to process things. that’s amazing!”

the era of being ashamed of my interests is over. it’s apparently Cool and Healthy to use fiction to cope. i wish i could tell fifteen year old me about this it would blow her mind

[devnmon]

undoing heat

Summary: Astarion feeds from you the first time and finds himself aroused. What he doesn't know is if you feel the same.

warnings: porn with plot and A LOT of feelings, blood drinking during sex, vampire feeding, grinding, needy, touch starved astarion, piv sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, bj, oral (r!receiving), fingering

a/n: listen. i could’ve made this nice and short but you all know me. can never be normal about This Guy ever. so have fun chowing down on the absolute meal of a fic i’ve cooked up for you all. enjoy mwah (also big big kiss on the forehead to my lovely moots @clericblood n @tillysketch n @bodythieves for all their pre reading n helpful editing they did. i love u <3 )

word count: 12.6k

A vampire feeding from one’s neck is intimate.

It becomes a degree hotter when it’s Astarion doing so.

—

Cold.

For many years, all Astarion had felt was an absence. One that could never be filled.

But warmth… that was something he’d longed for.

Beams of light from the sun, an embrace, a fire crackling before him. All these aspects of life he imagined would never be within his grasp again. Replication of any such gratification was far fetched. A myth, something he would never truly see again.

Then, the tadpoles, the mind flayer ship, and you.

Since the abduction, he’d been in a state less desirable and more disoriented than ever. Weakened from lack of blood— or the deprivation of it. For the first time in two centuries, he had a chance to find something different. 

Astarion has since lost track of the last time he’s had the sun on his skin and been able to freely roam under its blessing light. Vampiric ways of undead life never granted him such a thing.

Once he met you, everything changed.

The many fights that stood ahead of him along with a merry band of companions compiled by fate itself meant that kobolds and boars would no longer suffice. Thus came the shame of wanting to taste that crimson liquid running hot right under your skin.

Catching him staring at your neck was the first hint of his vampirism, the red eyes and fangs moreso a quite literal dead giveaway. He thought himself clever trying to keep that part of himself hidden. But you knew better. 

The first time he fed on you was very special, not only for him, but you as well. To even have the trust in him after you caught the elf trying to steal a nip from your neck while you slept opened his eyes to what kind person you truly were.

Willing to share a part of your life force so he could become stronger, that did a number on him drastically. It warmed his heart the same way it was physically; a spark in the dark, a flickering that soon burned to a roar.

Astarion is lucky in more ways than one to have someone willing to give him blood for no reason other than you wanted to. To find him- a vampire- worthy of something so personal, built an undeserving ache in his chest. 

You could’ve mistaken him for a cougar that hadn’t eaten in days by the way he was zoning out. His eyes dropped to the rapid pulsing of your jugular, so lidded he was almost drooling at the sight. 

Thanks to you, Astarion’s sanguine hunger had been satisfied for the first time in two centuries. Not only that, but the warmth it granted him, down his throat and in the tips of his fingers was so gratifying it had almost made him cry. 

At first surge over his tongue, it traveled through his system faster than light. Eventually coating his teeth, dripping down the sides of his mouth, transiting through every vein to warm his frigid body. 

Tasting it – mortal blood for the first time brought a tear to his eye the second it spread selfishly across his tongue. Each time it soared over his taste buds filled him more than the last, all his strength devoted to reining in the hunger most of all.

He had no words for how consuming it became, only satiating to the selfish desire of getting lost in it. For a split second he was there, floating in an ever so perfect ecstasy, falling deeper and deeper into its embrace. 

Your blood fulfills what he’s tried to do for years with animals. To be his first… he can’t believe you’ve offered yourself to him in such a way.

He’s buzzing as your blood – as you course through him.

Succulent, warm and thick, he forces himself to back off before getting lost in your taste.

“Ah! That- that was amazing.” His words are breathless from the taste of you, almost slurring against the warm slide down his throat. 

You watch as he stands, the sound he makes swallowing a depraved one. He almost looks about ready to lean in for another drink, eyes widening for a moment before focusing on you again. 

“My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel… happy.” 

Happy he was, the blood going straight to his head… and other parts of him. 

One drop hadn’t made it past his lips, swiping it away on his finger. You stare up at him while he stands, weakened from the loss of blood and open wounds on your neck. Afraid the image of him savoring your blood would make your knees falter, you remain sat. 

Even with his pale complexion, he was beaming— glowing in the moonlight. An exceptionally good look on him.

“I look forward to seeing you fight, Astarion.” 

“With you by my side, it shouldn't take long at all.” he says with a wink, curtsying as he continues, “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” 

As he turns toward the outskirts of camp, he pauses and turns back, sincerity filling his wine colored eyes when he speaks again.

“This is a gift you know, I won’t forget it.”

–

Immediately after draining a small animal, he’d noticed the lack of what mortal blood gave him; a rush so intoxicating. How long he’d survived in this world while missing out on such a thing, he would never know. 

Astarion gets overwhelmingly drunk off it all, a sensation he’s never gotten the privilege of exploring. To put it lightly, the man was overly sensitive and even the slightest touch across his chest sent his cock throbbing.

He’s not sure the last time he’s felt this type of arousal, not even sure of the last time he’s welcomed it. But he is aware of how much he wants to run his hands all over your body with his fangs in your neck. It makes him feel dirty, thinking of you in that way when all you’d done was give him a drink from your vein. 

He dotes on the image of you squirming under his touch a bit too long. Perhaps it was the blood talking, but accepting the image of you with your hands on his waist or anywhere else on his body makes a shiver run through him. For the first time it’s not out of frigidness, but one so invigorating he finds his eyes closed in sheer enjoyment. 

Astarion is warm all over, moreso from your blood he’s drank rather than the animals that helped satiate his hunger for the night. Thinking about the red liquid dripping from your neck when he pulled away– gods, the image was enough to make his vision hazy. He wasn’t aware of the raging hard on he’d gained from drinking something as luscious as your essence. It had never happened before when feeding on animals, but clearly this type was different. 

Was all mortal blood this potent? Would Astarion find the same hypnotisable taste in any of his other companions? Or was it you that was already affecting him in more ways than one that drinking your blood magnified? 

Either way, there was no containing it for the moment. What was he to do otherwise, walk into camp with a raging hard on? No, the embarrassment if someone– if you saw– might literally kill him. Better to sort it out in privacy while he still had some. 

Astarion freed his erection, dumbfounded at its warmth in his hand. Granted, he had not indulged in this sort of pleasure since… forever, it seems. The first full stroke down his length, he almost moaned too loudly, fingers gripping at the ruffles of his shirt, bottom lip caught between his pearlescent teeth. 

He was a sight, if you could’ve seen him then. Beads of sweat on his forehead, fangs glowing in the moonlight, cheeks pinked up just the slightest with how much he’s yearned for this sensation again. The elf’s high peaks quite fast, breath quickening as he attempted to stay quiet. 

Though he tries to picture anything else, the only image floating around behind his eyes is one of you. Your natural scent of sweetness, that pulsing jugular of yours, the kind hand you outreach towards all who need it. An inch further, just imagining your lips on his, is what brings him over the edge. 

 He’s not sure whether to feel relief or guilt when he spills over in his hand with a shudder. Once he steadies himself and cleans up, he’s quick to walk off as if nothing had occurred. How his mind and body ached upon his walk back into camp, observing you all tucked away in your separate corners of camp for the night. 

Astarion would just have to push down his guilt and hope to the gods it wouldn’t bother him in the days to come. 

–

Most nights afterwards were spent getting a control on the high your blood put him on. His first time though– had his body tingling in every possible way. Mortals truly underestimate the power that crimson liquid has over his kind. Astarion did not choose to spend two centuries draining animals. When the opportunity presented itself to him, truth be told he was a little nervous as to how he’d react. 

Your blood ran through his veins like lightning. Warming. Shockingly filling for once in his life. It’s up in his gums, behind his eyes, in the very essence of his being.

That night he realized how lucky he is for fate to have brought you to him. For you to trust him not to kill you upon his first taste of it. He’s elated, relieved, and knows for the first time, that he truly has someone who trusts him for the person he is. Not the vampire he happens to be.

He’s quite doting when he checks on you the next morning— a gesture that warms not only your heart, but your cheeks as well. You’ve never heard of his kind to be so concerned towards where their source of blood came from. A regular vampire would have taken what they wanted without care. 

But then again, he wasn’t so regular, was he?

“Good morning. How do you feel?”

Astarion’s eyes seemed to dart across your entire figure, looking for any sign of your current state. 

“I’m fine, I just feel a little woozy.”

“It’ll pass. I’m so glad last night didn’t end badly. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, though. Your blood was… so filling.”

“End badly? Wait… have you never fed on a human before?"

“Well, yes… We needn’t get into the gritty details as to why right now. I’ve had this condition for two centuries, but truth be told? You were my first.”

The vampire almost presented bashful when admitting this to you, as if it were a secret he’d never spoken aloud. 

“Wow, I’m not sure whether to be surprised or impressed to still be standing.” 

"I fed on animals for the better part of two centuries. Rats, cats, boars, kobolds... anything and everything except mortals. Since drinking from you, I feel at my best for the first time in my life. Apologies again, I should have told you about what I am.”

“If you needed blood, all you had to do was ask.” 

“I- Really?” 

You nodded. 

“I’ll let you have my blood. But only if I come to you first. Alright?”

“Of course, you needn’t say any more. Thank you.”

“Like you said, blood makes you strong. We’re going to need that on the road ahead, wherever it takes us. Have you got my back?”

“Always, my dear. Lead on.” 

–

It took an enormous amount of strength for him to resist his bloodlust turning to a feeding frenzy, even when he was consuming animals. But the ecstasy that came with mortal blood, especially for the first time, was more overtaking than he thought.

Apparently it had awoken another feral part of him. He’d savor your taste, reminisce about it whilst alone at night. Not only did it go to his head, but it focused him like nothing else. So much so that he can’t think of anything except you. Any attempt to keep his eyes off your jugular resulted in something much too overwhelming entering his system. Thus, when he wasn’t out on the road with you, his nose was stuffed in a book to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. 

Many more nights passed with you suffering a woozy morning as if you’d drank one too many glasses of wine. Luckily, a certain druid had joined your party with just the spell to cure you of the disadvantages your bloodlessness came with. 

Astarion noted the way you immediately trailed over to Halsin’s tent in camp the mornings after he fed, almost letting jealousy creep over his shoulder. Once he found you were only doing so to keep a level head on the road, that pinch of guilt became harder to push away. Not just its surge as if he was taking advantage of you, but the notion of something more stirring inside him when he tasted your blood. 

Was it only that you deserved more than what he was asking of you? Or perhaps the appreciation that at least one person in his life cared about how he was doing after so long of being disregarded in that manner? 

When a particularly rough battle left you all drenched in blood and limping back to camp, Astarion was hesitant to reply enthusiastically about feeding on you that night. He’d done so for the better part of all the past nights since his first time. 

You only stared at him, reluctantly confused that he said no. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m using you just for your blood. You’ve been kind to give me anything thus far. I’m grateful for it but… you don’t deserve me taking something so personal as that without anything in return.” 

“So, you don’t want to feed from me anymore?” 

If it weren’t for him being so godsdamned caring and sweet towards you right now, he would’ve picked up the hint of disappointment in your voice. 

“No– gods, no. I wouldn’t be here today without your generosity,” Astarion places his hand on your shoulder, “I’ve just… grown fond of you, and it would be wrong for me to continue taking advantage of how kind you are for my personal benefit. I want you to know I mean that and, well, you deserve something more for what you do for me.” 

His hand leaves your shoulder, the warmth of your body already infecting his ability to think straight while his gaze averts to your neck. 

“Astarion… I wouldn’t be giving you my blood if you didn’t need it. It makes me glad to have you by my side through all of this. If I have to bug Halsin every morning to cure me with a spell, then that’s a sacrifice I’ll make for you. Besides…” You trail off, noticing his eyes have left your face and are now locked on your neck. “Astarion!” 

“Wh-What? I’m sorry… It's been such a long day. What were you saying?” His hand scratches the back of his head nervously. 

“I was saying that what I do for you isn’t because I pity you or some other reason you may have thought up. You’re not forcing me to do anything I don’t want. But, if you’re sure about this, I won’t stop you from hunting for animals tonight. If that’s what you really want.” 

“Well, I don’t want to drink from animals. Their fur gets stuck in my teeth and it tastes awful. Your blood is much more filling,” he states, ignoring the way his chest heats up, “But today has beaten all of us down a peg and I think your neck could use the break. Wouldn’t want a bruise to tarnish your skin. Gods forbid. I’d never forgive myself. What I’m saying is I don’t have to feed from you every night, even though you generously offer it to me.” 

“If you insist… you know where to find me if you change your mind.” You replied, sighing lightly. 

“Indeed I do, darling. See you in the morning.” He bids you farewell with a wave and stalks off into the forest, the usual swagger in his walk making it even harder for your eyes to turn away. The way his tongue curls around the words he speaks throws your mind into a frenzy, wondering what it would be like with his tongue curled around something of yours. 

Astarion had been lucky enough to drink from you the past couple weeks on the road, dissatisfied at how much more hungry he felt after two small creatures. 

Gods, how much more is it going to take to be full again?”

About three animals for him to have the same fullness when drinking from you, but nothing compared to the warmth of your body. That was something he knew could never be replicated, you radiating a forge’s level of heat below him. Though perhaps it was only because he’d been deprived of such for so long. 

Resting against the log of a tree, he took a moment to catch his breath before the blood he'd ingested traveled south. Even when he wasn’t drinking from your neck, his mind went to you nonstop. Innocent thoughts like ones by your side during battle turned to reminiscing about how your body reacted to him when his mouth was against your neck. 

He wasn’t aware of it at first, too caught up in the less than satisfying taste spreading across his tongue. As the nights continued with him feeding from you, Astarion became more aware of your heartbeat pounding significantly faster whenever he neared you in proximity, how your breath shuddered upon his fangs in your neck. Of course you were nervous, what else was he to expect? To welcome some red eyed, pale skinned creature jamming its fangs into your jugular nearly every night without dismay?

Astarion tried his best not to ponder how your blood tasted, rich and succulent when flowing across his tongue, on his lips, down his throat. Unfortunately for him, the more he tried to push those thoughts away, the more you’d wriggle your way into his brain. He had missed his nightly taste of it, how much more full he became after a few sips rather than having to kill a few helpless small animals to even get close to how you made him feel. 

Your scent, your blood, you. 

Once again growing hard under his trousers to the point of frustration, pulling himself out in the cool air. It’s so unsatisfying to feel warmth under his skin that wasn’t from you. Not in the one simple way that got him high faster than light. Especially not when your blood shot through him, lingering at best and he couldn’t take how less buzzed he felt without it. 

Was he an addict for your blood, or just obsessed with you?

It all combined in his frenzy of getting himself off, hoping and praying he wouldn’t moan too loudly when he came. 

Vision hazy and body growing warmer, he stroked himself at a slow pace, relishing in every moment of the electrifying thrill. Every pass down his length makes him grow harder and much more inclined to indulge in thoughts he’d been pushing away. Swallowing the thought of you on your knees for him, his cock in your mouth. He wonders just how warm you are, whether it’s your tongue along the veins of his shaft or your heat sucking him in. 

Gods– he shudders at the vision apparating in his mind. 

Astarion’s hips stutter relentlessly as he comes in his hand, cleaning the warm liquid off with a rag before heading back into camp for the night. His gaze caught your figure before he shut his eyes, relishing in the luck of your presence. 

He woke the next morning drenched in guilt at remembering what he’d done the night before. Taking your blood, selfish as it was, for his own benefit. Then to run off to the woods of all places and deal with the complicated feelings arising because of it?

How fucked was that, he thought. 

How dare he get aroused at the thought of you squirming under his touch with his lips pressed against your neck. Fangs under your skin, sucking out the very liquid that kept you alive. 

That thick, rich, liquid. Running along your veins and pumping through your heart, keeping you standing before him. Quite literally your life’s essence, and he was the only individual out of all the others in your life to have a taste for it. 

It was foreign to him, this pull towards you traveling over his entire body. A thing he wouldn’t have given a second thought to before this whole mess. Now with the control over his own actions, things were much different. He felt if he was ever going to do something right for once, it would be with you. 

Time passed whilst keeping up your little routine; he would only feed from you when you told him so, attempting to rein in his obsession with how you tasted. He was sure the fangs in your neck was a less than desirable experience, which had him shuffling off awkwardly afterwards most times. Truth be told, he didn’t want you to see how floaty and giggly your blood made him, better to keep up his stoic vampire appearance than let you see how drunk he got off your blood, to keep that mask of his up than let himself catch feelings. 

That same mask was becoming heavier with each moment he lingered too long on you inside his head. The only question was, would its slipping result in something catastrophic? Or life changing? 

–

On the road ahead with that certain vampire at your side proved plentiful, finding yourself walking near him more often than not. Astarion became the first person you turned to when in need of a second opinion, reassurance, or for when you just wanted to be in his presence until your eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. You find comfort in his voice softening when you’re troubled, talking his pointed ears off about your past and if you’re truly capable of leading this group. 

“Your self doubts… They’re nothing to what you’ve gotten us through so far. You can do it, even if you think you can’t. And I’ll be here to make sure you get through.” 

He’d pushed your hair out of your eyes and made sure you were thoroughly hydrated after crying so much into his shoulder about it all. You thanked him with the promise to wash your tears out of his shirt the next morning, overly fatigued from all your sobbing. He shushed you while stroking your hair, only telling you to let yourself rest for the night. 

Upon waking the following morning, your head ached from the lack of hydration, finding yourself curled up into his chest, softly breathing as he slept. To avoid any awkward conversations, you managed to slip away before he woke. 

From the darker moments to the happier ones, Astarion was there for all of them. Finding the nicest wine for the celebrations you rarely had at camp, saving the best bottle for him as a gift. For his endless support of your endeavors, having your back in all the fights, and stealing you things without anyone noticing. 

All the softer times in passing, glancing towards him when he wasn’t looking, were when your eyes lingered. Beyond just his physical attributes, which were distracting enough, you felt a warmth in your chest getting up every day, knowing he’d be by your side. How you ached to see him smile or laugh as often as he was using those daggers he’s quite skilled with. His true beauty, the moments of happiness he found with you. Something about him looking as if he’d taken the place of the sun with the way he beamed. 

–

Choosing you to feed from rather than any of your other companions was special. It meant a great deal to you that it was your blood he was drinking- not Wyll’s or Gale’s- yours. 

His protective nature became much too obvious, as he’d place himself in front of you whenever someone stepped too close or became hostile towards you. Growling a threat towards said person always had your mind going someplace different, along with being thankful he stepped in to de-escalate the situation. 

Meanwhile everything Astarion does for you is out of his own growing affections. Ones he’s kept pushing further into himself. He wants to worship the ground you walk on for everything you’ve done for him. Not only do you make all the hard decisions and bond with others around you as easy as breathing, but to do so with your head held high, taking all the hits whether physical or mental. He adores you with all his being. 

From feeding him to supporting his endeavors with a smile, it’s the mental gymnastics he’s doing to keep himself sane that have been a pain in his ass. Getting off in the woods every night without fail has made the resentment of guilt a lump in the back of his throat. The filth that washes over him as he’s realized the desire to have you doesn’t just extend to your blood. Astarion wants to take in every inch of your body, its warmth with his fangs in your neck, how intimately his lips press to your skin while he sucks.

To extend your blood’s warmth to him, understanding how your body responds when he puts his hands in the right place. On your waist, between your legs, down your torso, around the lengths of your hair. Holding you softly while he drinks, the little death being shared between you two. His dreams are filled with his imagining of how you’d sound squirming and whimpering below him, waking up from how vivid they become at times. 

Soon as he’s come with you on his mind again, it’s back to keeping his feelings undercover. 

That is until one night, observing Gale let you taste the camp stew he was in the process of whipping up one night. An aching ball forming in his stomach at the sight of you indulging the wizard. Your batting eyelashes when you looked up at him as your lips dragged over the spoon. Sickness filled him, unlike anything he’d felt before. It made the bile in his stomach begin to churn, slowly shoving its way up his throat with distaste. 

Your actions were innocent on the surface, but he knew Gale had been in relations with a goddess. 

Seriously, the wizard? Who couldn’t shut up for more than five minutes even if his life depended on it? He probably doesn’t know how to be with a mortal after so long. Too caught up on that astral plane nonsense. At least I don’t need to project and want to be a god to get off.

He couldn’t be the object of your affections, surely… 

Whatever his intentions were with you, innocent or not, they would have to stop before he got too confident. Before you slipped right through his dexterous fingers to that fool. Of all the things he’s failed to stop from happening, he had to make sure this didn’t happen the most. All Astarion knew was that he was desperate to be close to you more than ever. 

His voice grinds the vampire’s gears from across camp, like nails on a chalkboard. Why was his laugh so boisterous? Ever heard of subtlety, Gale? 

He doesn’t deserve your kindness, doesn't deserve your opinion on his fucking stew. 

But himself? The gentle vampire who has only ever been by your side, stepped in front of you when people got a bit too threatening? Much better than a human who couldn’t even go five minutes without talking about properties of the weave or something along those lines. Astarion always tuned those tangents out for his own sanity. He’d much rather laser focus on something like your sweet voice. 

Perhaps it was irrational to think he was the only one deserving of your time, but there was nothing else consuming his mind. To even think about someone as talkative as that wizard was trying to insert himself into your close circle when he’s been there from the beginning? He had to stifle the laugh in the back of his throat. 

Just give me a reason, wizard. 

Astarion huffed to himself and walked away from the sight before he did something unsavory he wouldn’t forgive himself for. 

Camp had settled down for the evening, everyone quietly going about their nightly activities. Peeking his head out of the red clothed tent, Astarion glanced over to see that Gale had retreated into his and wasn’t coming out until the next morning. 

Perfect timing for him to visit you for his nightly feed, but the nudging concern of the plethora of words he wanted to get out to you tonight wasn’t fit for the confines of your tent. 

The heat that flushed through his chest upon nearing your tent made him take a deep breath, to which he regretted the moment it was too loud for his liking. 

“Astarion? Is that you?” 

Your sweet, muffled voice sounded out from inside, and before he could even reach out to open the flap, you’d stepped out into the night to greet him. 

“Well, good evening to you too.” he answered, “Eager for my arrival? Or were you expecting someone else?” 

He grinned cheekily, making you smile in return. Who else would you be expecting this routinely?

“We’ve been traveling together for how long now? I always know to expect you over anyone else. If it wasn’t you, I’d be worried.” You move to the side to grant him entry to your tent, but he stands still. 

“Actually, would you mind taking a walk with me? I’ve got to get out of this camp for a while.” 

You agree, letting Astarion lead you down a path to quite a lovely view, one he’s frequented as a moment of peace before heading back to camp from his hunts. 

He stops short and from how closely you were walking behind him you bumped into his back, breathing in his scent of bergamot and brandy for a moment before backing away. When he turns towards you, a soft chuckle left his chest.

“I… have something to tell you, and I wanted to not be in camp when I said it.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“Wrong? No, I–” he sighs, “There’s just something I need to get off my chest.” 

You looked up at him with those kind eyes, already feeling the heat in his stomach, churning his insides into goop. He took your silence as his cue. 

“Your blood, which you’ve been kind enough to grant me, helps me focus, yes. But you have an entirely more powerful effect on me. You’re selfless, kind and generous to those around you. Even to me, when I might not have deserved it.”

“Oh, Astarion…” 

He puts his hand up to stop you, so much more he has to say.

“You’re, well, everything to me.” 

The vampire’s voice breathily skirts over the word, as if it’s the first time he’s admitted it to himself. 

“You… you’re a vision. Everyone’s favorite, clearly. The one they all run to when there’s problems they can’t solve on their own. I… adore you for it. For being resilient even when the world may not have been so kind to you in return. You deserve every good thing that’s happened so far.” 

“No, I… I’m just doing what anyone else would have.” 

“Do you really think that? That me or— gods forbid, Lae’zel would’ve made the same choices?” 

“I… don’t know.” 

“For a fact, we wouldn’t. I don’t say things like this if they aren’t true, darling. I’m not a man of many words… unlike someone we both know. But that’s not the point. What is, is this. I’m fond of you in more ways than one, and I’m tired of keeping it bottled up. It’s become suffocating ever since this routine became regular for us. I’ve not been sure how to go about telling you all of it, but if I didn’t sooner or later, someone else would take the places I desire to be in. All I know is that whenever you’re not around, I worry, and I think about you constantly.” 

He looks relieved upon letting his words settle in the air, wringing his hands together nervously. You’re silent before you take a step closer to him, brushing a curl behind his ear and cupping his cheek. 

The stoic, unbothered vampire persona he’d been putting on had slowly worn away upon spending more time with you. It warmed his heart to see you not turn a blind eye to those in need of help, after he’d done so many a time. From reluctantly going along with whatever you said, to taking pride in being part of the ones who brought joy to less fortunate people, he found himself for the first time in two centuries, glad he had found such a soul. 

“You’re so…” you sigh, “I’ve been thinking about you too. So much.. I wish you had said something sooner. Then I wouldn’t have spent so many nights wondering if you felt the same. Worrying that I served no other purpose to you. But now…” you trail off, his rubies catching the light, as if they were filled with stars. The rest of your words escaped you, except, “Oh, just kiss me, you damn fool.” 

Astarion’s eyelashes fluttered, softening at your words, immediately feeling welcome to step closer. His cold palm cups your cheek as you’ve done to his, bringing you in close to touch your lips with his. One kiss sets him on fire, then another, and he’s pressing further against your mouth. It was almost as if he’d been waiting twice as long to do this with you, as you’ve been eager to do it with him. Your arms wrap around his waist, pulling him into your chest; his natural coolness fills the air between you. 

His hands, anxious as they are, softly place themselves onto your waist for the first time. Your lips are warm against his, your everything is warm against him. Intimately and gentle over all.

You pull back from him breathlessly, gods are his lips ever so addicting. Some of his saliva is left on your bottom lip as you do, but it’s not unwelcome. Nothing about him is. 

Your foreheads rest against each other, both of you grinning in the moonlight. There’s a light pink tinge to the tips of his ears, Astarion feels weightless in the grasp of your arms. 

“Somehow you’ve managed your way into my heart. I wouldn’t want anyone else intertwined so deep. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Astarion. You mean the world to me.” Your words coat his skin like honey, sticking to him as they echo in his mind. 

“You’re such a gift. One of the things in this world I treasure more than anything. Above any gold or trinket I could ever steal.” His thumb caresses the apple of your cheek, your skin tingling under his touch. Astarion could feel the heat in your cheeks from his simple but sweet contact. 

“Gods, you’ve always been good with words. Not like anyone I’ve ever met before.” 

“None of your past lovers have had such great hair either, I know…” He turns to the side, showing off his profile and the silvery curls adorning his head. 

You giggle. Of course he would take a sincere moment to talk about how pretty he was. “Well yes, that, and none have been at my side as diligently as you without second thought.” 

“You don’t have to. You make it so easy to show up for you and be by your side… that I don’t even have to try.” 

“My sweet star,” you cupped his face now with your palm, “No one as loyal has ever been in my life before. I’m so grateful to have you.” 

Astarion’s pearlescent fangs glistened in the moonlight as he grinned, pulling you in for another kiss. You could feel the vibration of his groan on your mouth as he leaned in further, a firm grip on your waist now. He was almost in disbelief of the luck he’d come about, yet here he is, combining his lips with yours and getting to relish in the warmth of your mouth for the first time without that lump in the back of his throat. 

You pull back, breathlessly, a string of saliva connecting the two of you before you speak again.

“Wait, do you…” you swallow his taste down, “still want to feed from me tonight?” 

“How could I say no…” he replies, “Your blood is so very tasteful. Decadent.. Almost as good as my favorite wine.” 

“You don’t need to flatter me, you already own my heart.” You roll your eyes dramatically, but your cheeks reddening just proves how much it actually meant to you. 

“Even better in that case, now I can watch you blush without worrying if you feel the same.” 

Leading him with your hand in his, the two of you made your way back to camp, taking your sweet time giggling and kissing him while you walked. As you laid down in your tent, Astarion’s hands trailed up your torso, sensitive ears tuned in to your heart rate picking up its pace. The canvas of your neck was too pretty not to kiss, which he took liberty in doing now shamelessly. Each press of his lips against the flow of your blood under your skin only made his hunger grow, but he hadn’t wanted to bite you yet. No, he’d take his time, painting his way across softly. 

Upon his third kiss, you began to giggle again, such perfect music to his ears. Not knowing what came over him, his lips attached to your neck again, desperately. Kissing and sucking and nipping ever so lightly with his teeth, that you whined. 

“Astarion… you whispered, “You need to feed.” 

“I know, my love. But, everyone needs to know you’re mine.” He purred, the tone in his voice making it clear he was not above marking you up. 

You giggled again, “Okay, well when you’re done, it’s my turn.” 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time…” he flirted, eyes lidded as he looked down upon you. 

So you let him continue, marking your neck up with several bruises, before pulling back and gazing at his masterpiece. 

“Gods, I tried to be gentle… but I might have gotten carried away a bit. You know how I get around you.” 

“Oh, shut it and come here.” As if the two of you couldn’t get closer in proximity, Astarion leaned down to give you access to his neck. You decided on leaving the area with his scars alone, but wrapped your hands around his nape for even more contact. When his body reacted to your soft kisses, his thumbs pressed circles into your waist, breathing became heavier. His forehead dropped onto your shoulder as you continued, sucking and laving on his skin with your tongue, almost rasping with how his hunger surged. He could smell your hot blood just beneath the surface, singing in your veins. His mouth opened, scraping the tops of his fangs against your skin with a light scratch. 

“Do it…” you whispered, hearing the growl in his breathing. Without another word, Astarion sunk his fangs into the spot they frequented. What surged over his tongue was decadent, sweet, so thick and familiar that it danced across his tongue with every swallow. 

“That’s a good vampire…” One of your hands reached up to stroke the back of his hair, its soft curls sliding through your fingers with ease. A very prominent whine vibrated through the skin of your neck. 

Meanwhile the hands on your waist never stopped their soft rubbing up and down as he fed. Within his palms stirred a warmth, something he had been itching to do upon his first feed, it became so overwhelming. That sea of ecstasy he wanted to set adrift in seemed so much nearer now. With you, it would never cease. 

He released your neck with a gasp, blood dripping down his lips. Before he could clean himself up, your other hand reached up to swipe it away and let him lick it off your thumb. As he did so, you could’ve sworn his eyes glowed for a second. 

“Thank you, my love. For always feeding me so diligently.” Astarion drops a kiss on your cheek, moving himself to lay next to you.

“How else are you supposed to be big and strong for our battles, hm?” 

“Certainly not without your beloved blood, that’s what I know. Now, let’s get some rest. Today’s been long enough, no use in making it longer. Although I could stare at you forever…” 

“Oh, shush. Goodnight, Astarion.” 

“Goodnight, love.” 

He pulled you in close to his chest, so you’d fall asleep in his arms, listening to every heartbeat. 

Morning came with warm coffee and fresh bread that Gale had picked up before anyone woke. He offered you some along with a nice jam spread he’d made. Before he started along another spiel of talking his head off just to be near you, you moved your hair to the side, exposing your neck littered with red splotches from the night before. The wizard, rendered speechless, was even more surprised when Astarion made his way over and slinked his arm around your waist with a kiss to your temple. He then rushed off, almost dropping his own cup and getting to whatever business he’d be up to in camp. 

Across the many days that passed, from the goblin camp, eventually to Baldur’s Gate, your relationship with Astarion became so much more. He was devoted and kind, everything you expected him to be, not just spitting flirtations at you without care. The man knew which names you preferred to be called, ones he knew would have you bending to his every whim. 

You didn’t have enough gold to purchase a new knife for him? There he was, whispering into your ear, Darling, the store manager is slowly going over all the different potions with another customer. She won’t even notice its disappearance. 

So when you slipped the knife into your pack, he knew he’d gotten what he wanted. Perhaps not the best use of your time, but he took a little joy in corrupting your usual honest self. As a treat to lighten your conscience though, he’d had a necklace engraved from the same shop with his initials. It looked so delicate around your neck, the shine of its metal mirroring the glimmer in your eye. 

The soft mattresses of Elfsong Tavern were a blessing; not only did Astarion persuade the barkeep to give you the rooms for free, but the top floor was also all private. Everyone finally got their own space, save for the ones who decided to pair up together. 

He would feed from you almost nightly again, save for a few days here and there. Taking his time to kiss your neck, helping clean you up afterwards after he was done. Always using his lithe fingers to rub a healing salve into where he’d bitten. Though it became a guilty pleasure for him to see your eyes closed when he did so, ending up indulging in each other’s lips more often than not. Along the way, your desire for him simmered under your skin, desperate hands traveling across the expanses of his back, across the ridges of his scars ever so gently. 

One night you quite literally began grinding up against him, his thigh pressed under yours for a little tease. It was even before he started to feed, that you couldn’t resist him any longer. Your kissing quickly became more feverish, dotting your lips across his face and his neck with wild abandon. It was when you flipped Astarion over to straddle his lap that he caught the ravenous look in your eye. 

“What’s gotten into you?” He inquired, hands finding their place on your waist. 

“Astarion, has it occurred to you that we haven’t had sex?” You asked in reply, hastily moving your hair out of your face. 

“Well, of course it has. I just never wanted you to feel obligated to, if that wasn’t something you were ready for.” 

“I wasn’t… not at first. But I trust you much more now than I ever did, and… I don’t think I can hold back anymore. I want to do this with you.”

“You do?” 

“I dream every night about how it would be to feel you in that way. To cry your name in pleasure as I…” You trailed off, already recognizing the growing arousal for him stirring. 

“Oh… I see my love. This is something you’ve thought about for a while, isn’t it?” 

Astarion’s voice borders on genuine concern and his purr-like tone, almost as if he’d been thinking about it as well.

“I’ve thought about it and thought about it to the point where I can’t take the fantasies anymore. I have to have you…” Your voice dripped with desperation, as he noted your scent pricked with desire. 

His eyes go lidded, wrecking the image of that sweet vampire persona you’ve come to know and love in a second’s time. 

“I’d love nothing more. But if you get uncomfortable, we can stop whenever you’d like. Promise.” 

“I promise. I love you, Astarion.” 

“And I love you, too. My precious darling.” 

Your lips attached to his again, ever fervent than before. You so proudly moaned into his mouth, tasting his tongue swirling around yours. His breathing became heavier, growling into your mouth as his hands slid down to the soft padding of your ass and gripped firmly. The wet sounds of your lips moving together so perfectly sparked the filthiest of desires in his brain. 

Pulling apart from him with a gasp, you swallowed before thinking again. 

“Wait, there’s one more thing I have to tell you.” 

“What is it, pet?” 

“That night when you fed on me, it… did something to me. Something I didn’t understand at first, but now I do. It turned me on… and I liked it.” Astarion noted the scent of your lust as you spoke, and the way your heartbeat jumped. 

“Oh, you filthy devil. And I thought you were nervous about me feeding from you… When really it was turning you on… making you crave me, hm?” 

“I... yes.” 

Astarion bit his lip, dragging his eyes down your torso slowly before meeting your eye again. 

“And…?” 

“And… I would love nothing more than to honor you with my blood once more while we make love.” 

Astarion’s fangs make an appearance when he smiles oh so wide, eyes glowing with how much he is relishing in this moment. 

“You’re serious?” 

“Astarion, take whatever you want from me. take my love, my blood, my body. I trust you. Wholly.”

"You have no idea how much those words mean to me, thank you.” 

He pressed his lips to yours passionately, before pulling away to speak again. 

“May I confess something, this time, love?” 

“Of course.” 

“I felt the same when I fed from you.”

“You…” 

“Well darling, I can’t lie, I watch your blood slide along your veins whenever I’m close to you. It’s just part of my vampiric nature, but I can’t help it. Not when you’re this addicting,” 

“Tell me more…” your hands cupped his cheeks, playing with the stray curls that threatened to fall in front of his face. 

“From the first bite… it was such an aphrodisiac, and I couldn’t resist what power it had over me. It felt so wrong at the time, when we weren’t together. To think of you like that, I mean. The blood… took on a life of its own inside me. But now that we’re together… it seems right to tell you.” 

“That’s… gods. I don’t blame you at all. I would’ve done the same if I were in your place.” Immediately after your admittance, your cheeks pinked up right quick. 

“Oh, really?” 

“You’ve got me there, it seems.”

His hips grinded up onto you from below, noting each time his breath hitched between kisses. A hand scraped through his hair, sensation heightening what arousal was already beginning to simmer throughout his body. 

“You know… not once did I think you were too rough with your bites. You never even left a bruise… When you were close enough to breathe in my scent, you always made sure it never hurt. And I guess that… along with so many other things… is what made me fall for you. I enjoyed being close to you, I always will.” 

“I had to. I couldn’t take something so precious from you without care. I would’ve hated myself if that happened.” 

“I admire the strength you had… even for your first time drinking from a human. What an honor.” 

“The fact that you continue to bless me with your blood is just another testament to our bond. Thank you for trusting me.” One of his hands slinked its way down and interlocked with yours, thumb rubbing the top of your hand delicately. 

“I always will,” you replied, bringing his hand up to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to it. 

“May I ask for just a little taste before we… dive head first into each other? A petite one, at that.” 

You smiled. As if he’d ever have to go hungry again with you. 

“Anything you want, my star.” 

“Perfect…”

His eyes closed in bliss at the sneaky idea he’d just thought up. “Turn around for me, I want to try something.” 

You sat with your legs sprawled out, with Astarion out of your view. 

 “Close your eyes, darling.” 

You did as you were told, awaiting his first move. Astarion’s contact began with one of his hands running up your back triggering a flurry of goosebumps to rise across your skin. You exhaled shakily, intrigued by what he had in mind, but also the aching need for him continued to grow. 

That same hand moved to the right side of your neck, resting his fingers over your pulse point to take in how fast it was pumping that rich blood through your system. 

But he wouldn’t bite you just yet. 

His second hand wrapped around your waist, doing the same motion of small circles after slipping his hand under your shirt. You felt his breath turn to a low snarl against your neck, running his left hand across your stomach to your midriff and down the cloth of your pants. 

That hand rubbed over your crotch as he finally sunk his fangs in, leaning into his chest. Sharp coldness of said bite turned to pleasurable and warm quicker than you could expect. 

Your whole body warmed under his touch, the same heat filling you as it did on the night of his first bite. Except there was no shame or reason to hide it this time. So you welcomed it, along with the filthy desires that followed. 

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth, moaning low in his ear as he drank, with your head tilted to the side. His cold hand on the cloth of your mound only made matters worse, lifting your hips up for more friction. Gripped firmly under his hands, you could tell Astarion was smiling by the way his lips moved over where he had bitten. 

He lets up quickly after a few gulps, satisfied with his little drink. 

When your head falls back onto his shoulder, glancing upwards to the red lipped vampire, he catches the glimmer of your hazed eyes. 

“Oh, there’s the spark.” 

“Astarion…” you whined, unwilling to keep your desire for him under wraps. There was no point in doing so, he had you right where he wanted you. 

“Ah, you don’t have to say another word. I already know, darling.” 

His lips, stained with the crimson of your blood, press against yours again, moving his left hand to the waistband of your pants. 

The other that’s cradling your neck travels downwards, fingertips sliding over your shirt to grasp at your breast, nipple hardening under his light touch. All he has to do is rub over it once, before it made an appearance through the cloth. 

You aren’t wearing anything else under your shirt. Cheeky, he thought. 

“Your whole body’s been waiting for me to take you since that first day, hm?” A soft, massaging grip from his hand continued on the plush of your breast. 

“Mmnh… yes,” you whisper, “Please…” 

“Shh, sh sh sh. It’s alright. I’ve got you right where I want you.” 

You look to him, buzzing with eagerness in your eyes and plead again silently for him to touch you. The eager hand at your navel slips into your underwear, inching towards where you truly need him. To find you completely soaked wasn’t much of a surprise. 

Two of his fingers part your drenched folds apart, licking his lips at the knowledge of how much slick is gushing from you. With his fingertips, he ghosts over your aching clit once before traveling downwards again and pressing into your wet entrance ever so slowly. Not only do they slip inside almost immediately, but the sound that leaves you is incomprehensible compared to the ones you were making before. 

His digits are welcomed with no resistance, as if he couldn’t tell how alight your body became under his touch. Even through your clothes, the squish as they drag against your walls is enough to make him groan appreciatively. You gasp, the intrusion of such a different temperature compared to your own, noting the undeniable pleasure when he finally manages to find that sweet spot inside you.

Letting them rest against it for a moment before curling to his leisure stretches you out so nicely for him. Any upper body strength holding you up faded faster than light, falling against his broad chest with ease. 

You moan his name without a single thought, the apples of his cheeks pinking up from your glorious sounds that no one else was lucky enough to experience. It was music to his ears. How desperately he let the electricity form, tingling its way around on his skin. Slowly letting his own enjoyment build out of dragging his fingers in and out of you, he attuned to the hammering of your heart against his chest. 

Astarion took pride in every whine you let out upon the motion of his fingers, letting his thumb rub circles into your clit while he did so. 

“Gods, I want to undress you with my teeth… take my time with you… forever if I could.” he purred in your ear, earning him another breathy moan from you. 

“I can hardly resist you. Don’t make me–” 

“Beg? Oh, but that would be such a nice look on you…” 

“Astarion…” 

“Relax, darling.” 

You melt under his touch at the command, eliciting a proud smile from him from the knowledge that you’re wrapped around his finger. It’s not surprising how you already feel your arousal peaking from his simple touches, his heavy breath in your ear only urging you on further. Already eager to feel you clench around his fingers as you come undone. 

“You’re so close already, pet. Want to come on my fingers so bad, hm?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, “Please…” 

“Then come for me.” 

The next circle over your clit sends you soaring over the edge, breathing heavily and whining with a blinding release. Astarion’s lips peck and lick softly over your neck as you do so, relishing in the scent of pure ecstasy you emit. He’s already itching to be inside your walls, but desires to savor your taste on his tongue beforehand, as if he could be sustained from only that. 

He knows the way you write underneath his hands is only because of him, which only makes him grow harder tenfold. As his fingers pull out of your underwear, the sheen of your slick is such a sight to his eyes. Astarion is quick to bring your fingers to his mouth, letting your aroma fill his nose before indulging himself with you on his tongue. His eyes close upon your taste, almost as good as your blood, but nonetheless, one that takes hold of his mind so strongly, he can’t think of much else. 

“Your taste is like nothing else…” 

He crawls around you to your front, pushing you back onto the pillow behind him. 

“I must have more of you…” 

“Take whatever you want from me.” 

Astarion’s nifty hands pull both your pants and underwear down in one motion, not before noting how soaked your garments were and discarding them behind him. Between your legs was such a mess, one he undoubtedly caused; seeing you like this though, in the shallow wake of your high coursing through you, was where he found himself entranced. 

As if that wasn’t enough of an image to sear into his brain, you discarded your shirt off to the side, tired of the confining layers that kept him from seeing all of you. 

“I knew you were a vision, but this… not even the gods could find enough time to worship at your altar. You’re perfect.” His last compliment is admitted almost breathlessly, as if he’d walked in on a painter sculpting their muse. 

“Stop with the flattery and get up here.” 

Astarion compiled, meeting your lips with his while his hand grazed down your chest, fingertips like drops of cool water in between the sensitive skin of your cleavage. The stark difference in his body temperature made a chill run up your spine, turning on the most sensitive parts of you so easily.

Your lips intertwined moan after moan with his, while the touch of his hand traveled to your nipple. Another trails feather light across the expanse of your thigh. One flick of his thumb against it, and you were rutting up towards his body again. 

“Do you like that?” he murmured, too entranced with how you look below him. 

“Mhm… do it again.” 

He needs no further encouragement, diligently placing each way you like to be touched into a perfect little spot in his mind. Your mind is empty of anything else other than his hands on your body, exploring every inch. The echo of your voice in his ears does more than enough to spur him on. His subtle flick over your hardened bud is like a switch, setting your whole body off. 

You grip at the hair atop his head, pushing him down towards the apex of your legs. What you don’t expect is his lips to travel with the movement, pressing a path from your jawline down your neck, not before stopping to kiss and lick once or twice over each hardened peak and soft skin surrounding them. It then follows down your stomach to your navel before his tongue comes into play, laving over them the slightest bit through each kiss. 

When he comes face to face with your core, Astarion can’t control the way he begins to salivate at the sight. He’s breathing so heavily still, your scent of lust and sweat wafting around his head. He leans down, expecting to feel his tongue on you, but instead he kisses your pubic mound with appreciation, hooking his arm over your thigh. 

“Astarion…” 

He knows what you want, what you need from him, and he’s quick to indulge. He leans further down to your sensitive parts, and can’t help but run two fingers through you again to see how you shine. That ecstasy he took from licking you off his fingers would be nothing compared to diving in head first to your joyous arousal. When his eyelashes flutter and go hooded, it’s no surprise that he finally leans in, tongue first starting from your dripping entrance and all the way up to right over your sensitive button. His tongue laps at your opening, swirling and darting around to collect and devour every drop of your sweetness. 

The tip of his nose prods at your clit just enough to make you clench, each of the rogue’s movements calculated and determined to relish in how you spread across his tongue. When he swallows, a moan of content vibrates through you and your head falls back in gratification. It made his nose against your clit much more hypersensitive and your hips almost began stuttering upwards for more. 

Astarion’s multi talented tongue threatened to send you over the edge once more, but you nudged him a certain way and he let up. 

“You taste so good, I can’t get enough of you. My love…” His hand stroked your inner thigh softly, an action of comfort that only sent another jolt through you. 

“You’ve already made me come once and I haven’t even gotten the chance to touch you yet…” you whined, knowing all this pleasure taken should be given in return. Especially for a man such as himself. Your mouth watered thinking about it. 

“Oh, darling,” he laid a kiss on your heat, “You don’t have to do a thing for me.” 

“You’re very sweet, but if I don’t get to have you as you’ve had me, I will lose my mind. Now…” 

The assertiveness you commanded over him did nothing but command him to obey, unwrapping himself from your thighs before sitting up. Your eyes immediately traveled down to his crotch, where his pants did very little to obscure his tenting beneath the fabric. Without another thought, you push him back onto the bed to straddle him, grinding your bare cunt against his cock. The friction is incomprehensible, but you must stay focused; this was about him now. 

Your hands lock around the nape of his neck, only letting one of your wrists trail over his lips. His first instinct is to kiss it, but then he remembers why you both are here. Your blood continues to pump loudly in his ears, its aroma still prominent in his mind. 

“Go ahead, I know you want to…” you spoke in a low voice, goading him on to sink his fangs in. His head lowers, red eyes lidded and locked on yours. He abides, the quiet squelch into your wrist paired with the sting of his teeth’s sharpness a minor pain at this point for you. 

The slow pulls he takes immediately pink his cheeks and tips of his ears up so much so, you thought he might’ve been feverish if he wasn’t of vampiric nature. Out of curiosity, you ran your fingertip over the pinkness in his ear to find it warm– hot, even. Astarion released your wrist with a whine, gasping at your sudden contact. 

“Sorry, did that hurt?” 

“N-No… do it again, please…” He whispers his last word, the alluring persona washing away with every small rub, whining even louder this time. Within your teasing, Astarion takes liberty to heal your wrist and kiss it once the puncture marks faded away. 

His head falls back in bliss, feeling the warmth of his blood travel down his throat with your hand. It lightly trails down his jaw, your thumb lightly ghosting over his adams apple as he swallows down the rest. Astarion whimpers something pathetic, the weight of you over his cock making it throb unnecessarily harder than it already was. 

“Did my blood just… do that?” You glanced downwards at the erection you straddled. 

“I think so,” he replied breathlessly, passionately connecting your lips with his. 

“Let’s get these off you. That does not look comfortable and… I want to make you feel so good…” 

“That sounds delectable, pet.” Astarion replies, letting your greedy little hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt to discard it. 

You paused a moment before going any further, taking in the picture of him below you. What a vast expanse of his chest that has your eyes glowing, as his rubies look upward to you. You kiss him once more, peppering kisses down his sharp jawline to the sensitive skin between his pecs and flitting your tongue across his nipples in the same nature that he’d done to you. 

“Hah-” you hear him gasp, knowing you’re doing something right. He intently listens to your heart rate and how fast your blood is pumping through your body while you travel down his own. Kissing your way to his navel and licking softly, pulling the cutest little moans from him. The strong ridges of his torso are next for your lips, letting your tongue drag across it from time to time. Your hands tug his pants down over the length of his prominent bulge. 

You discard them ever so quickly, his cock springing up eagerly, as pretty as the rest of him. His pink tip throbs in the cooler air, finally freed from his tight clothing. 

“Gods damn…” You muttered in disbelief. Of course such a pretty man would have a pretty cock to go along with the rest of him. 

“Look at what you do to me…” Astarion whines, biting his lip and tossing his head back. He doesn’t have to say anything else before you’re lowering your mouth and kissing his tip, lightly dragging your tongue over his slit, desperate to please. His cock twitches, standing even more upright against his toned stomach. 

“You’re perfect… in every way.” You comment, looking up at him before wrapping a warm hand around his base. It’s as if you could feel all of the blood he’s consumed pumping through him while in your hand. You inch up his shaft, letting your palm cover his tip completely to hear him whimper again. 

“Ah–” 

What makes him grow even harder is the gaze in your eyes as you continue to fist him, the way your lips are parted and your tongue threatening to escape again. Astarion doesn’t expect your other hand to massage his balls, only earning you an even higher pitched moan from him. 

Before he knows, you’re bending down again, flitting your tongue over his slit to taste the salty precome. Your soft lips roam down his length, leaving the sweetest of kisses as you continue. His chest heaves, whole body firing up in response. When your hands are replaced by the warmth of your mouth and your tongue down the side of his cock, he almost cums right then and there. 

But he indulges you, letting your movements continue and swallows down what noisy sounds he would’ve made. The moment he does, you lift off him with a knowing look. 

“Let me hear you, please,” you ask, your vampire nodding before raking one of his hands through your hair. Your warm mouth continues, before his hips begin stuttering and his curses switch to unintelligible whining again. After all the teasing and pushing all the right buttons on his body, you’re seemingly about to send him barreling towards his release with the consistency of your mouth on him. Licking the side of his cock as you move up and down, lips red and swollen from the friction. You look a perfect mess with your saliva covering him and doing so willingly on him like this. 

“Gods, I’m going to–” 

“Come…” you plead, “for me…” 

That’s all Astarion needs to hear, hips stuttering as he bucks into your mouth, spilling down your throat with a groan that tapers off into a content whimper of your name. You swallow every drop of his spend and ease him down from the peak of his high. Chest heaving, you release him with a pop, cock twitching in the open air, dripping and still half hard. A sheen of sweat covers his forehead, glistening in the light of the room. 

“Thank you, my darling.” Astarion leans down, cupping your cheek with his hand and kissing you, tasting himself on your lips. 

“You look so pretty when you come…” you reply, wiping the extra saliva off your mouth. 

“Not as pretty as I’m going to look when I fuck you.” His voice lowers to a purr, immediately bringing you closer to him with his strength. “You'll take every inch, won’t you?”

“Mhm,” You whimper in reply as Astarion crawls over you, dragging his fingers ever so lightly over your torso. 

“Now tell me, did you touch yourself while thinking about me?” Your face is too quick to give you away to deny it, feeling your cheeks heat up. That’s enough of an answer for him. 

“You did, didn’t you? Don’t be shy. I want to hear that dirty little mouth admit it.” 

“Yes, I did. I… fucked myself with my fingers wishing it was you. I got off on the high your bite gave me. Gods…” You cover your face in embarrassment, but there was no admitting that to him with a straight face. 

“It’s alright, little love. No need to be embarrassed. I did too. My mind said no, but my body, filled with your blood, might I add, said yes. I dreamed of you laid out like this for me, so many damn times before I ever thought about it being real.” His hand pulls yours away from covering how much your cheeks are pinked up at the admittance of such a thing. 

“My tongue still remembers the way your blood tastes, you know. I can’t wait to fuck into you and taste you again.” 

“Please… please, please…” you whimper, finally at the crux of your fantasy where it becomes reality. All the nights you spent forcing yourself to be quiet, coming with a whisper of his name, were your real life now. 

“Please, what?” 

With the way he hovers over you now, his cock rests just over your navel, almost perfectly lining up with how it’ll fit inside you. 

“Bite me– drink my blood as you put your cock inside… I want to feel it grow.” You mewl, and when he growls with that all knowing smile, you know he’ll give you what you want. 

Your lips smash together this time, ever so hungrily, almost bordering on needy. Astarion pulls back for a moment, before letting his eyes drop to the pulsing point on your neck to lean down and meet it with a kiss. 

There’s nothing like the cold sharp sting of his fangs that soon melts into the purest form of euphoria as he slowly drinks, tongue greedily sweeping over the marks he’s made. The way he murmurs little strings of praise upon his approval against your throat, with blood covered lips. 

His tip prods at your entrance, pushing in slowly but with no resistance to the hilt before he’s consumed too much. Between the pulls he takes from your neck, he’s groaning with each swallow. Your blood sings inside him, truly feeling the aphrodisiac that is your essence of life. It consumes him, taking over the vast inches of his pale skin. Astarion’s grip on your body becomes the thing he clings to, letting his hands find your waist and back of your neck again. He pulls you closer to him, attempting to override the high he’s been put on, but he falls short just the slightest bit. 

From this point you were overjoyed to finally feel the drag of his cock against your walls, going from filled to the hilt to somehow even deeper, your blood filling him as he has filled you. It was poetic in a sense, erotic, and if you weren’t so lost in the high his bite was giving you, you could have cried at this ever so perfect moment. 

Finally he releases your neck with a gasp, apples of his cheeks pinked up, and eyes shimmering. Astarion is grinning ear to ear as he looks down on you, triggering a blissed out smile from your own lips. 

“How do I look?” you ask, slurring your words a little. 

“Beautiful. Like you always do.” When he asks, “Did you feel it?” in a low voice, you know he’s growing so impatient. 

“Mhm… fuck me… fuck me so good, the way you know how, Astarion.” 

Your moan again as his lips collide with yours, the first few thrusts of his cock slow and methodical. He angles his hips in such a way to hit that spongy sweet spot inside of you without trying, relishing in the friction of your walls. 

“So ready for me, and still so tight. Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you? Hah–” 

His voice drips with lavishness, a devoted tone and desperate to please. 

“Astarion… faster, please…” 

He says no more, only growling in agreement as his hips pick up the pace. He smiles blissfully while his thrusts find a steady pace inside you. It’s even harder to not lose himself like he has in your neck several times before, soaked in happiness as his pace evens out. What a mistake he makes as he looks down at your neck, becoming so much more difficult not to lose all control and rut into you like a cat in heat. 

You moan out his name, every thrust a commitment to giving you his all each and every day he’s with you. 

“Again,” he says through gritted teeth. 

“Astarion.” his mouth is on you again, eager for another taste, snagging your lip with his fang. 

“Again.” 

He commands in a tone that leaves no room for second thought. The friction of his cock against your walls, swallowing him in repeatedly, as if it were what your body was made for, brings you barreling towards your release. It’s when he reaches down where the two of you meet in the most intimate way, that you lose all train of thought. Your mind goes fuzzy as his fingers swirl at your clit, your combined fluids doing enough to lubricate the way he circles over your clit. 

“I’m going to…” 

“Come for me… Please darling, gods, please…” 

The ruthless pace he keeps up in order to come with you will definitely leave you sore in the morning, along with bloodlessness and at much too many disadvantages. But in this moment, you just don’t care– sharing this pure hot bliss and pleasure with Astarion has tied your souls together for eternity. 

So when his hips stutter again, holding himself inside you as he paints your walls with his warm cum, is when you know he’s yours forever. You shatter around him, clenching uncontrollably that he almost comes a second time. Both your movements slow to a halt, catching your breath as your heartbeats continue to pound in your ears. 

“I love you, thank you…” Your voice is hoarse, but appreciative, as you speak

“I love you, infinitely more…” He returns your sweet words. 

When Astarion lays down next to you, he can’t quite help the throb of his heart in an endless river of warmth. You’ve put him there, not just physically, but spiritually and mentally. Within his heart he knows he can love and trust you like this till the end of his days. 

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

What Comes After

Pairing: Astarion x reader

Prompt: In which you couldn't convince Astarion not to become the Vampire ascendant, but still do not allow him to do the ritual.

Description: You really did fall so hard, and so, so fast. No wonder when the ground came to meet you did it hurt just as much. But perhaps its not too late to stand back up again, if someone was willing to lend a hand.

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3018 3244

Notes: I had to save scum this so much on my file that was romancing him. And well I be thinking about him a lot lately... I literally have no idea where these words came from btw so I hope u enjoy them! Edited: 10/6/24 Fixed some spelling mistakes and grammar, added a lil more flavor and tried to make it all present tense lol also this has a title on ao3 now it does here too

“It’s over,” Said with such disdain, such pain and hurt, directed your way. “I’m done with this, and I’m done with you.” Venom, dripping and cold. What happened to the warmth in his eyes? To the love that once shown in them, when he looked your way? “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.” He looked so broken, so hurt.

You hardly remembered what came next, beyond your own tears. Astarion simply… left. Walked away as you crumpled to the ground, in disbelief. As you begged him to say. When you told him, over and over again, that you loved him.

Karlach and Shadowheart must have dragged you out of those dungeons, otherwise you might still be there, wallowing in your pity. You don’t remember how long it had been since then. Since you had stopped Cazador from ascending, freed Astarion from his grasp… and tried to convince him not to ascend himself. Your words may have failed to reach him that day, but your actions didn’t. You severed the connection of your tadpoles, kept Astarion from seeing his scars. You would not be the one to allow such evils to be birthed, would not allow him to kill 7000 souls. You did not allow Astarion to become the vampire ascendant.

Astarion, hurt, broken, and lost, then choose to walk away from you and everything the two of you had built together over this adventure.

You hadn’t really been the same, since then. Where once you were the leader of your little ragtag group of adventurers, now you couldn’t find it in you to leave your tent. Well… Astarion’s tent, to be precise. You never had one of your own. And when the two of you got together, it just seemed natural to share.

Gale had taken over in leading everyone for day to day adventuring on your behalf. Even though you wished it, the world would not slow down because you were hurt. No kindness spared on your broken, broken heart. Yet you couldn’t stop wondering where you went wrong. Were the two of you not as close as you thought? Could you have been more convincing, hells, more intimidating, anything to have kept him by your side?

It must be night now. Your candles are all stuffed out, the bustle of the streets beyond are quiet, and you can’t hear the patter and stomps of Scratch and the owlbear cub playing around camp. Your tears have all but dried, even if your sorrow remains as fresh as a new wound. No, all is silent in this moment. You take a deep breath. Yes, it would be best to sleep. Maybe tomorrow, you would wake up and feel like a person again. One who could attend to all her duties. One who could save Baldur’s gate.

But sleep never comes for those whose hearts are so heavy. This isn’t the first night you’ve lied awake, thoughts wondering. All for the better, perhaps-- because in the heavy quiet of the cities dark night, you hear the flap of your tent open with the utmost quietness. And you, just as quiet, sit up from your laying position. Who ever has invaded your space must have dark vision, for they pause upon seeing your form and do not move an inch.

“I can see you there.” Your voice comes out, gravelly and rough. You don’t sense your in danger, though, even as your heart beats and pounds in your chest. Who would be stupid enough to steal from a camp full of adventurers, with an owlbear lurking around no less. Still, with some trepidation, you cast the cantrip for light, and watch as your messy tent (and new guest) are bathed in cool, blue light.

“Oh,” Is all you think to say. You can’t really trust your eyes, so you rub the days of built up sleep and sorrow from them. No, you can’t even speak his name as you stare upon him. But you dare not look away. Even if it was a dream, it was him. It was him.

“...You’re a mess.” His words are soft, quiet. He seems to relax a little when he sees you make no movement.

“...I suppose I am.” You clear your throat a little after speaking, if only because a new lump seems to be forming now that you look to him. “How… how can I help you, Astarion?”

“Gods…” He heaves a heavy sigh, looking over your pitiful form. “I’ve hurt you this much, and you still think to help me? Are you stupid?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Perhaps.” You nod softly. “Stupid enough to fall in love with you, after all.” You can only smile weakly at him.

“I came here too…” He frowns, looking away from you for a moment. He seems to reconsider what he was going to say, sighing and shaking his head before speaking again. “Well it doesn’t matter why I came back. You clearly need some sense knocked back into you.” With that, he moves in closer to you. Surprised, you move in a little in order to accommodate him. You try to ignore the beating of your heart, ignore the hope that rises within you like a phoenix from its ashes.

“What… are you going to do?” You turn to him, nestled into your side like he might have been not too long ago.

“Talk, as terrible as that sounds.” He keeps his gaze down, looking at the messed up bedding. What does he see, in this room that shows the layers of your sorrow?

“Talk?” You repeat. “I thought you… didn’t want to see me again.” You look to where he keeps his eyes trained. All you see is a monument of your regrets.

“Well, that was then. This is now.” Astarion looks to you. To the bags built up under your eyes. To your cheeks, still rosy and sensitive with just how many tears you’ve shed (for him, no less). Your hair is unkempt and as gross as you are, all he can see is someone that loves him. Its bracing, in an entirely disgusting way. After all-- he was the one that did this to you. “I… said and did some terrible things during that ritual. Things that… looking back, I may not have done were I in the right head space.” He swallows hard. “I was… scared. And the promise of power, the smell of blood… it was all so intoxicating, I forgot myself there for a moment.”

The two of you sit in the silence a moment, festering in it. Words dance on the tip of your tongue but Astarion isn’t done speaking. He, too, needs a moment to compose himself. “But… you never forgot who I was.” He looks to you, something soft, something sad, something gentle written into the contours of his face. Even as he turns to you, he struggles to meet your eyes-- shining, glimmering, with everything sweet and promising and loving in them. Something that he doesn’t deserve; not after the actions he took that day.

“You did everything in your power to convince me what I was doing was wrong, but all I could see then was the security that power could bring me.” He closes his eyes, taking a sharp intake of air though his nose. “I was so blinded, I could not see that with you by my side, I was the happiest I’ve ever been these past 200 years…” As he opens his eyes, he looks down to his folded hands, then over to yours before quickly looking away once again. You realize, with much sadness, that even now as he tries to burrow into your familiar warmth, he hesitates to reach out and touch you. Maybe he felt as if he wasn’t allowed to do so any more, or perhaps felt he was no longer worthy… Whatever the reason, it breaks your heart just a little bit more.

“I… see.” It’s a lot to soak up. That in the moment, you couldn’t reach him but in the days sense Astarion has realized maybe this was for the better. The thought hadn’t even occurred to you that he might consider that. That he might actually miss you too.

“You saved me from becoming the very man I lived in fear of, and all I gave you in return was heartbreak.” He seeks your eyes, his own wide and wet and you realize he’s crying now. Tears flood your eyes as well, because he was right; you cared for him so much, though, it almost didn’t seem to matter. Almost. “How can I ever expect you to forgive me?” With that, he breaks, closing his eyes roughly and crying out, sobbing into his own hands. It hurts just as much as when you watched him sob after killing Cazador.

Some how, you summon new tears to cry with him. Two, love sick idiots broken and hurt but not beyond mending-- not yet.

“It’s okay,” You find yourself struggling to say the words, even as you usher him into your arms and hold him. He does not hesitate to hold you in turn, to cry unto you as you into him. “We’ll be okay, I promise, I promise.” Your words come out as prayer as you hold him close. “Just don’t leave again, please!”

“I won’t, I won’t.” Astarion seems to compose himself more quickly than you do, but he does not let go, even as you know your tears stain his shirt. “I’ve got you and I won’t leave you ever again.” He rubs his hand along your back slowly, doing his best to try and comfort you in the same way you have for him in the past. It’s a long moment before you feel yourself begin to breathe normally again, before your tears once again dry and you find yourself staring into his red eyes once more.

“I love you,” Your words are softer than a whisper, said with a trembling smile.

“I love you too.” Astarion responds in kind, resting his forehead against yours. You two stay content a moment, settling into one anothers missed company before he speaks again. “But you’re disgusting-- let me take care of you.” He pulls away from you and your left no room to argue. You merely blink, owlishly, as he pulls back. He moves to stand but you grab his hand before he can get too far.

“Where are you going?” You hold on to him with both hands now, and he has to pause to take the sudden fear on your face. Astarion had planned to leave to return with a little wash bin and rag but seeing you so distraught makes him pause. The last time he left you, he didn’t come back… He can forgive your sudden clingyness, then, but not how you’ve let yourself go in his absence.

“We’re going to get you cleaned up.” With a bit of a struggle, Astarion gets you to rise to your feet next to him. “Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.” He adds. You nod slowly, still a little on edge from the panic that just flooded your system but nonetheless, choosing to trust Astarion.

So, with the difficulty that comes with only having one hand, Astarion pins open the flaps of the tent (your light cantrip soon goes out as well, but the inside is illuminated but the torchlight of your camp). Some of the stale air you had been living in gets to escape, and you’re able to take a fresh breath of air you hadn’t realized you needed.

Astarion gathers his wash bin, and the rag, and with you in tow, rummages through that the travelers chest you seem to toss anything and everything into. But, avoiding unmatched boots and careful not to prick himself on all the arrows that are in there (and trying not to think about how they were likely dumped in there after he left), he finds what he was looking for-- some soap. And though the water is cold, and the night is cool, at least with a little bit of soap and his careful hand, it’s not all bad.

“You need to wash these clothes too,” Astarion huffs. “I know you have other things, so let’s get you into something cleaner.” You’re guided back into your shared tent (which is already starting to smell better, but the scented water is helping as well) while Astarion rifles though your clothing. Here together again, you finally let go of his hand but stay close to him.

“Thank you…” You pause, watching him pick out something comfortable and warm. “I can take care of myself, though.” You add, attempting to take the clothing from him.

“I’m sure you can-- but I want to take care of you.” He doesn’t let go of your clothing as you try and take it. “So, let me.” His gaze flicks up to your eyes and you’re surprised to see him look so stubborn.

“Oh,” You let go of the clothing, surprised. “I… That would be nice.” You say it quietly, still too caught up in him being here, being real and touching you, loving you.

“Now, out of the nasty clothing, if you would.” He persists, grabbing the hem of your current shirt. He pauses before lifting it though, looking to your face. “That is, if you’re okay with me…” he trails, unsure.

“It’s you, so it’s okay.” You assure him. You raise your hands so he can take off the offending, stinky shirt, and toss it aside. Next, he removes your pants, tossing them the same direction.

“This might be a little cold,” Astarion tells you, but it doesn’t stop the flinch (nor the shiver) as the cool rag touches your skin. Still, his touch is delicate and careful.

He first wipes your face (part of it, still covered in blood and dirt from that same battle). He dips and wrings out the rag, before continuing his work. Your chest, your arms, legs-- all of you, gently washed and cared for. You realize this is the first time he’s been so intimate with you in a non sexual way. It’s… nice. To see his brow furrowed in concentration, have his hands upon you just hold you. It’s not like the two of you went entirely without touching one another in that time, but to have him initiating it, warms you in a way you’ve needed since his departure.

“Now, back in your clothing before you catch a cold.” You nod at him and smile, sliding on the familiar pants and shirt with comfort and ease.

“I already feel a lot better, thank you.” He smiles softly, but sits you back down.

“Just let me attend to this rats nest, and we can be done.” Astarion reaches for his comb, and sits beside you. “Lean back so I can wet your hair, darling.” He guides you down, with your head over the basin, and cups his hand to gather water before wetting your hair.

You let him work quietly, until your hair is wet and he can begin working out the knots starting at the ends. When the comb runs freely through your hair, he grabs the soap and carefully massages it into your scalp, scratching here in there. You let out a sigh in content, and Astarion can’t help but smile softly.

He was still shocked that you even talked to him-- let alone let him touch you. But the two of you needed this. To hold and be held, to love and let go. He was a fool to ever think he could be without you. But he was lucky, then, that you were fool enough to let him back in.

With your hair washed, combed, and dried and the water dumped and wash bin put aside, Astarion lets you sit back up and look at him. “So… what happens next?” You ask softly.

“Well… I’m not sure.” He admits. “I didn’t think you would forgive me so… I hadn’t really thought much beyond that.”

“I suppose we get our rest, then.” You heave a heavy sigh. “I know I’ve taken enough time off from adventuring… And you have some friends who deserve an explanation as well.”

“More talking?” Astarion groans softly, but makes no move to leave your side as you lie down and tug him with you. “But… you are right.”

“You’ll be okay.” You give him a good, full body squeeze. “Everyone here cares for you. They’ll be willing to hear you out.”

“Perhaps only with you by my side.” He lets out a little chuckle. “But… that’s not such a bad thing.” He readjusts in your grasp, snuggling close and turning towards you. “Rest well, darling.” He kisses the top of your head, and smiles down at your sleepy expression.

“I will, now that you’re here…” It didn’t take long for sleep to find you, wound up in Astarion’s arms. You hadn’t slept so well in days, and who was he to wake you when you looked so peaceful…? It seemed like time passed so quickly with you in his arms, and before long he could hear the sounds of everyone else waking in camp.

Astarion couldn’t help but grow anxious as footsteps grew closer to the tent. “Solider, you in there?” Karlach’s voice called out. “I know you haven’t been very hungry lately, but I brought you some breakfast…” Unable to do anything to stop her, Astarion watches, helpless, as Karlach pokes her head into the tent. In the bright morning light that pours in with her, all he can do is look at her with wide eyes as her mouth begins to open. Acting fast, Astarion speaks before she does.

“Shh, just let them sleep a while longer…” Astarion turns from Karlach, brushing some stray hairs from your face. “When they’re ready to wake up, I’ll… I’ll be ready to.” He turns from you, back to Karlach, a look of surprise and glee on her face.

“Right! Right… I’ll be quiet!” She gives him a little thumbs up and quickly retreats from the tent. But… Astarion can hear Karlach, even if she is all the way across camp. First, she tells Jaheira, then Minsc, and Minthara and Lae’zel overhear… Then Wyll, Shadowheart and Halsin of course overhear and then Gale finds out, and now the whole camp is aware that he’s back here even if they are being remarkably polite about it….

Still, it brings a smile on his face. To know they were so excited to see him again (maybe even if it was only to see you happy again) was a comforting thought. To be among friends… That was something truly special indeed.

“Astarion…?” You wake slowly, eyes barely open as you look to him, hold him a little tighter.

“I’m here,” Astarion assures you, giving you a squeeze in return.

“Good…” You close your eyes and cuddle back into him, letting out a small yawn. “Let’s stay alone for just a little longer yet.”

“That can be arranged.” He can’t help but smile, and relax into you. Everyone else could wait a little longer yet-- you deserved what ever you wanted in this moment. And if that happened to be him, well, Astarion was in no place to say no.

[gingerdusk]

just saw ur gale/mystra analysis post. im new to the game and dnd lore and honestly… ur take on their relationship feels like the most natural/compelling one??? esp since its all too easy to simplify topics that have many facets and nuance….

thanks for sharing i love analysis and reading people’s takes on narratives : D

My pleasure! (Bee from the future here: congrats, you spawned another meta!)

I love complicated characters, WAY more than I like a clear cut-and-dry case. Flaws, to me, are what make a character compelling and lead to interesting stories about them with choices that can get them into situations. I'm both writing a fanfic and running a campaign where I'm playing as Gale, and in the interest of portraying him properly and in-character, I've gone into SUCH a deep dive into all the decisions and facts that make him him.

It helps to, y'know, also be in love with the fictional wizard, but I digress

The thing about Baldur's Gate 3 is that no character in there is perfect. I've seen a couple analyses about the theme of continuing cycles of abuse vs breaking out of them, but in my mind, in terms of the characters themselves, it goes like this:

The origin characters have just come out of the lowest situation of their lives (Lae'zel being the exception; being tadpoled is a gith's worst nightmare. You're seeing that lowest situation in real time).

Not the lowest point, mind. Gale's lowest was probably the day after he got the Orb. Wyll's was probably the day his father cast him out. Karlach's was the day she lost her heart. But the lowest, accepted normal for them is what they've just left.

They're then thrown out of their depth and forced to rely on you to live. That's #1 priority: living. We get the extremes of these characters before we get their nuances, because they're quite literally at their breaking points.

Then once we get to know them, we see their wants, their hopes, their fears, as they open up to us. Every companion's story is at their own pace, but they all have a moment where they ping-pong between despondency and desire. Sometimes that desire is what we know isn't good for them, like Shadowheart wanting to be a Dark Justiciar. Sometimes that despondency is only for a flicker, like Astarion's realization that he's condemned 7000 people to a half-life of tortured spawnhood for as long as he's been a vampire.

Romance lets us crack all that open more, because if you pursue a romantic partner, they see you as their closest confidant. They WANT to trust you, so they're more willing to explain how they see the world and what decisions they want to chase.

And then their endings. Those often get simplified as good/bad, continuing the cycle vs breaking away from it. But how is Duke Wyll on the same platform as Ascended Astarion? He's not evil, he's not even entirely unhappy. He might even have broken out of his abusive cycle with Mizora, if you played your cards right. And Ascended Astarion is overjoyed, even if he is remarkably more cold.

I think that the endings are less a dichotomy of "this is good for them" vs "this is bad for them," and more one of "bringing out their best traits" vs "bringing out their worst."

Wyll's worst trait is being willing to sacrifice his own wants for whatever people desire of him. His best is standing for what he believes in and ensuring people are safe. Duke Wyll leans into that necessity to turn the other cheek in the name of people who count on him, while the Blade of Avernus has seized that moral compass of his and forged it out of mithral.

Shadowheart's worst trait is blind obedience at the cost of her individuality, while her best is her desire to be kind to things that don't deserve to be hurt. Mother Superior Shadowheart's whole life is defined by Shar. Selûnite Shadowheart's life is defined by her hospitality, especially towards animals.

Karlach's worst trait is how willing she is to accept that things are (to quote her) fucked, letting despair override hope. Her best is her durability in the face of horror. Exploded Karlach would rather die than try to work out a solution in the Hells, because she's terrified of facing Zariel alone. Mindflayer Karlach has accepted her fate and decides to give up her heart and soul to go out a hero, losing who she is. Fury of Avernus Karlach is willing to keep fighting for a solution, and by the time the epilogue happens, she's got her sights set on one.

Astarion's worst trait is his desire for power over people. His best trait is using the tools he has to his advantage. Ascended Astarion has let his powerhungry nature and paranoia lead all of his decisions, with his sights set on dominating mankind. Spawn Astarion has embraced what he is, and carved out a life for himself where he can do as he pleases.

Lae'zel's worst trait is her blind fanaticism, while her best trait is her individual dedication, making her loyalty a marriage of the two. Ascended Lae'zel is a meal for the lich queen, turning a blind eye to all Vlaakith's tried to do to her and literally being consumed by her fervor. Champion of Orpheus Lae'zel has turned her loyalty into something productive for diplomacy. Faerûnian Lae'zel has seized her individuality by the throat and decided her own future.

And then Gale. Gale's worst traits are his hubris and, paradoxically, his low self worth. His best traits are his creativity and wonder for the world. God Gale is the embodiment of ambition, having burned away all but that in pursuit of perfection. Exploded Gale has let his remorse blot out all hope for a redemption in which he does not die, because he thinks he's earned it. Professor Gale leads his life by embracing the school of Illusion and letting his creativity thrive, teaching others to do the same. House Husband Gale has multiple creative projects he's working on, and Adventurer Gale is always finding new sights to see and wanting to share them with you.

There are arguments to be made on which ending the origins are happiest in, certainly, or which one benefits them the most, but each ending represents the extreme of a facet they possess.

So with all that, there's a sort of malleable method to figuring out the ins and outs of a character.

You take their endings—all of them, all variables they can have—and reverse-engineer the flaws and details they carry. Then you start to notice how those work into their approvals for minor things: Astarion approving of your taking of the Blood of Lathander, or Shadowheart approving of standing up for Arabella. Getting a list of approvals and disapprovals is helpful, but having those endings on hand tells you why they react like that to a majority of their decisions.

You take their romance-route explanations of how they act, and apply those to earlier decisions. Astarion's confession to manipulating you and Araj-prompted admittance to using himself as a tool brings to light how he reacts to your decisions, regardless of his actual opinions on them. Wyll's fairytale romance and love of poetic adages speaks to his idealistic nature, and why he takes a sometimes-blinded approach to decisions in which the "right" answer isn't always the smart one.

You take their beginning reactions to stress and use that to measure how future decisions impact them. Lae'zel locks down and gets snappy when she's scared, while Gale immediately turns to diplomacy. Shadowheart has gallows humor, while Wyll turns to quiet acceptance. If they break from these and seem even worse, you know the situation is more dire in their minds than having seven days to live.

And then you factor in all their fun facts and dialogue choices and backstories.

A wizard falls in love with a goddess and her magic, attempts to retrieve a piece of her power for her, is scorned for his attempt and is cursed to die.

Give that backstory to a Tav. Look at how it changes.

A chaotic good wizard fell in love with a goddess, thought retrieving a piece of power for her would be a showy bouquet of love, and was punished for not thinking things through.

A lawful evil wizard fell in love with a goddess's power, snatched the most precious thing she owned, tried to use it to barter his way through to the secrets she kept, and was given a swift retribution.

Same backstory. Same class, same act, same goddess. Wildly different connotations. Wildly different conclusions as to who is in the wrong.

If you take all there is to Gale, all that the game shows us makes up his character, and apply it to this backstory, you get what really happened:

A wizard, enamored with magic, fell in love with a goddess. His desires led him to want more than she was willing to give. In his well-buried fear of inadequacy, he concluded that the reason she wouldn't indulge his ambitions was because he just hadn't proven himself worthy enough. So he tried to prove himself, but he lacked the context for what he was proving himself with. And the goddess, seeing a weapon that had killed her predecessor, saw this ambitious wizard as losing his way and coming for her just like the weapon's creator had. She was angry, she withdrew his link to her, and he didn't know why. So he drew the conclusion that she took his powers to punish him, and let that encompass his fall from grace.

Was he wrong to reach for what was out there?

If you knew that the answers to everything you cared about were not only known, but kept by someone you loved—someone who adored you—what would you do to ask to see them? What if your curiosities were if there were other planets with life out there, or how dark matter worked, or whether or not we could one day travel in the stars? What if it was the potential cure to an illness that's little-understood, or the way to make a program you dreamt up, or the scope of the true limits of your artistic talents? Would your answer change?

Was she wrong to cut him off?

If you were once hurt, and the person you loved—the person who adored you—brought the thing that caused it to your door, believing you'd want it, how would you react to seeing it? What if that thing was someone you thought you'd broken contact with, like a friend or family member you'd been trying to avoid? Would your answer change?

That's the sort of scope that needs to be applied to this, on both sides. You have to take the perspectives of each party, and apply two analogies instead of one.

Gale saw the vastness of the universe, untold wonders, the solution to every question he could ever dream up, and saw Mystra as withholding this from him because she thought he just wasn't worthy enough. To claim Mystra knew his perspective does her a disservice.

Mystra saw a cruel weapon she thought long gone, in the hands of someone who could use it, brought right to her, and thought Gale was willingly following the path of Karsus. To claim Gale knew her perspective does him a disservice.

Should Gale have researched his prize more, so he knew just what he was obtaining? Should he have kept his hands off a cursed book that would devour him? Of course he should have.

Should he have given up on chasing his dreams?

Should Mystra have understood that Gale's pursuit of power was nothing like Karsus'? Should she have communicated when she was angry instead of giving the cold shoulder? Of course she should have.

Should she have given him the benefit of the doubt?

That's the root of their falling out. That's what leads to hurt being inflicted. Understandable, human reactions to the situations they perceive. Unhealthy, unwise choices made afterwards.

You work backwards from this to figure out their dynamic as Chosen and goddess. You work forward from this to understand more of where Gale and Mystra are during the events of Baldur's Gate 3. Gale reached too high, and understands this. His goddess hates him, and he regrets this. Mystra isolated Gale, and understands this. Her Chosen wants redemption, and she wants to make it happen.

Just like we took Gale's character into account, we also have to take Mystra's.

A goddess is faced with a problem. She uses someone who's desperate for approval to solve it, by telling him to kill himself.

An evil goddess is faced with a threat to her reign. She sees someone who's unfailingly loyal and hates himself, and elects to have him tear himself apart rather than do anything about it.

A good goddess is terrified of the future. She sees someone who tried to hurt her, who's going to die anyways, and tells him to use it to save the world.

Same story. Same act, same power, same pawn. Different character. Different perspective. Different outlook on whether or not this is the right thing to do.

Mystra has died, multiple times, to people trying to stake claim to her domain. Someone appears with the very thing that could do it again, right as she's regained her stability.

She does not see mortals the way mortals do. She is timeless. She is eternal. She has a duty to protect billions of people, and one person lost to protect that number is more than worth the sacrifice.

People like to bring up the Seven Sisters as proof of Mystra's cruelty. For those unaware, Mystra asked permission to, then possessed, a woman, used her to court a man (with dubious consent from the woman), and bore seven children, all of whom were capable of bearing Mystra's power as Chosen without dying. The woman she possessed was killed in the process (reduced to no more than a husk, then slain by her now-husband, hoping to end her suffering), and the husband was horrified by the whole story.

Mystra needed Chosen in order to restore herself in the event that she was killed again, to prevent magic as a whole from collapsing and wreaking havoc on the mortal realm, like it had in the few seconds Mystryl had been dead. Elminster, Khelben Blackstaff, and the Seven Sisters contributed to this. The more Chosen she has, the better; what happens if Elminster dies? She can't afford to have all her eggs in one basket.

Mystra has Volo (yeah, that Volo) as a Weave Anchor, imparted with a portion of her power to prevent the Weave from shredding itself to pieces in her absence. All Chosen of Mystra are Weave Anchors by nature. The creation of Weave Anchors was mandated by Ao, the Overgod, and Chosen are the best way to make sure those anchors aren't drained by ambitious people hoping for godlike power. Chosen can, and will, defend themselves, unlike static locations (which Mystra also has). The anchors are why the Weave wasn't completely obliterated during Mystra's last death, when the Spellplague rose up, because they stabilized the Weave around them.

Everything Mystra does is in the name of the big picture, to prevent a catastrophe like the fall of Netheril from happening again. Her restriction of magic, her numerous Chosen, her creation of Weave Anchors, her destruction of those who would claim her power, it's all in the name of the stability she's been charged with. Dornal Silverhand's grief and Elué Silverhand's death, while regrettable, were worth it to bring seven more anchors into existence to save all of the Material.

So someone appears with the Crown of Karsus, potentially powerful enough to try to kill the other gods in the name of the Dead Three. She can't risk being a target of them. She can't risk the destruction of magic again.

Gale is going to die. He lives in fear. He begs for forgiveness.

In Mystra's eyes, she's offering him the best outcome. She'll let him die in service to her, to save Faerûn, and she'll forgive him. He's going to die anyways, and if he does this, she'll give him everything (she thinks) he could ever want in her realm. She's asking him to do what (she thinks) is the right thing.

"She would consider what she considers to be forgiveness."

Notably, she leaves the decision in his hands. She doesn't have Elminster lead him to the Nether Brain. She doesn't activate him as soon as he's there. When he lives yet, she doesn't revoke the charm that keeps him stable. And when he declines, when he lets it go and starts pursuing Karsus' path, she doesn't smite him on the spot.

She is (she thinks) being incredibly patient. If Gale is going to try to be Karsus II, she's ready for him. If he decides to walk off and keep the Orb, he's dug his own grave in the Fugue Plane (those who don't have a god to claim them roam endlessly as husks and form a wall of bodies around the City of Judgement).

From her perspective, she's not being unreasonable. But from the perspective of a mortal, she absolutely is.

"Now, I have a question for thee: what is the worth of a single mortal's life?"

This is a question she cannot answer properly.

I think a lot of characterization is lost whenever someone paints one of them as being totally in the right. But I also think you have to be invested in them as characters to want to see that characterization. If you want to write about Mystra, you have to try to get into her head, analyze the decisions she made, figure out why she thinks she was right, and follow the pattern.

Gale's sacrifice is a very predictable thing for her to ask for.

[rafumeika]

I want to write a silly bg3 fic where Gale somehow gets sick but it's like, a super normal human sickness like a cold with a bit of fever or something like that but we have:

1. Shadowheart with amnesia problems who probably has no fucking idea if she ever got sick or not + if she did ever get sick I can very well imagine the Sharrans being like, "Either she survives or she doesn't, it's our Lady's will" and no one ever did anything ever so no one knows how to take care of any type of sickness

2. Astarion who probably hasn't been sick once ever since becoming a vampire and even if he did, 200-ish years of constant torture and trauma probably buried any kind of normal illness until it was just one giant undiscernible pain that eventually went away on its own before it was replaced by more pain anyway

3. Karlach who burns hot 24/7 and probably doesn't even know what a normal human's temperature is supposed to be, who has spent years surrounded by literal demons and hell-beasts and whatever other horrors are in Avernus and doesn't know what a normal human sickness is + even before Gortash sold her I doubt anyone ever needed her medical advice in the improbable case Gortash ever got sick

4. Lae'zel who has close to 0 knowledge of most races outside of her own and like Karlach probably knows fuck shit about human sicknesses + she would probably think Gale is about to become a Mindflayer

5. Wyll, poor boy, fellow (ex) human. He definitely knows human sicknesses but also he's been on his own for 7 years with that insufferable bitch that is Mizora so yes, in theory he knows Gale is NOT gonna die but also he has absolutely 0 knowledge on how to actually help a sick person recover except remembering that his father once used to tuck him in when he was young and sick and then what? Who remembers the details?? Childhood memories, especially about when you were sick and out of your mind with fever, can be a bitch to remember

So no one out of the main 5 (not counting poor sick Gale ofc) knows how to take care of their sick squishy human wizard and everyone is panicking while Gale is tiredly shaking his head laying under a thick comfy blanket Halsin got for him since he's probably the only one who knows how to actually take care of a sick person in a way that doesn't involve just spamming restoration magic (like I imagine Shadowheart would try and do) and knows how to make some actual medicine/natural remedies and is just watching the chaos unfold from the sidelines with an amused smile while making sure Gale is properly taken care of

[mistercrowbar]

Buddy, real question here — don’t you think it’s kind of inconsistent how Astarion managed to go completely under the radar for so long without anyone suspecting he was a vampire? I mean, come on, he’s a vampire, his body is cold as ice. When he was seducing people and sleeping with them, nobody was bothered by the literal corpse-like chill of his skin? xD Like hello?? 'Hey, funny thing, when I touch and kiss you, your skin feels totally cold, but whatever, let’s bang anyway!' haha !

He must do a lot of workout before seducing to get his body temp up xD

I think the key thing is that he wasn't dealing with repeats. He only ever had to make up good enough excuses one time, and after 200 years prolly had a good deal of ready-to-go excuses built up. Also, if someone is even getting to the body temp part, they've already gotten over the fangs, the bite mark, the red eyes, the pallor, etc.

Aldiirn is kinda similar in that he's always moving around, so he never has to get personal with anyone -- and he can easily dodge anyone who falls for his cute face. It's harder dealing with Gale when they're stuck together indefintiely because Aldiirn reeeeeaaaaallyyyyy doesnt like upsetting people, especially clients

[talesofesther]

under the sunlight

Summary: After 200 years of darkness, Astarion feels the sun on his skin again.

A/N: It's been quite a long while since I've enjoyed a game the way I'm enjoying BG3, a feeling I've missed all too much. And of course, this pretty, charming boy has secured his place in my heart fairly quickly. I love him, he deserves all the warmth and softness in the world. And this is a moment I've been wanting to visualize for a while. So, here's a small drabble about Astarion's first time back in the sunlight.

Requests for Astarion are open, if anyone wants more of him here. <3

Masterlist

The world around him smelled like smoke and burnt flesh, the air stung as it ghosted over his dry lips. Dust and remains of rubble clung to his skin, his body felt heavy and sore all over. Each movement more painful than the last, for seconds that felt like hours.

The pale elf didn't know how it happened, all he knew was that the mind flayer ship he had been trapped in had started to fall, and fall, and fall; until it crashed, and he crashed with it. He also had no idea how he had survived, but he wasn't about to complain.

A deep groan escaped Astarion as he steadily regained consciousness. He kept his eyes clenched shut, a headache pounding his head and making him wince.

He scratched the dirt and grass beneath him, grounding himself. His muscles complained as he slowly started to push himself up, and as he tried opening his eyes, a hiss fell past his lips and he blinked several times. Squinting, he tried to adjust his sight to the bright sunlight.

He stilled. Hand frozen midair as he was about to shake the dust off his hair.

Sunlight.

Moving faster than he probably should, given his state, the vampire crawled backward until his back hit the trunk of a tree. His skin only partially hidden from the warm glow.

He tucked his knees closer to his chest, eyes wide as he watched the soft slivers of sunlight that sneaked between the leaves dance on the tip of his fingers. With a trembling hand, he gingerly curled a finger around one strip of sunlight, as if the light would bend its rules for him to hold it.

Sharp fangs dug into his lower lip, scratching and drawing a drop of his own blood. There was a tightness in his chest, clawing at his throat; whether it was fear or hope he didn't know. Maybe a bit of both.

A soft breeze flew by, carrying away the stench of smoke and bringing a distinct perfume, no doubt from the berry bushes nearby. The skies cleared, welcoming, beckoning him under.

With his palm up, Astarion eyed the stripe of sunlight resting on his hand. The soft glow had a gentle warmth to it, kissing his pale skin ever so tenderly. It was enough to blur his sight, tears brimming on the bottom lid of his eyes.

Could it be?

Wobbling in his stance, feet unsteady, Astarion pushed himself up. He took one, and then two steps forward—resembling a wild cat walking into a cozy home, after sleeping countless nights out in cold streets.

When the warm light of the sun embraced him—without pain, without burning—a quiet whimper fell past his lips, and Astarion closed his eyes. He angled his chin up to the sky, pleading for the sun's attention. For it to kiss his cheeks and dry the drops of blood on his clothes. For it to shine on his silver hair and warm up his cold skin.

He blinked his eyes open, lower lip trembling when his sight was temporarily blinded by the light. He looked around him, to the bright greenery and the blue skies and the mountains far away.

It was so warm. After 200 years of cold nights. He felt so warm.

Tears fell down pale cheeks, glimmering, under the sunlight.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[jessiemeows]

A Cold Comfort

A/N: Hey guys I'm back with another small little story :) It's just something short and sweet, especially with winter being around the corner this is how I think Astarion would care for his partner if they were to catch a cold from freezing temps! It also helps that in my current game, the date is Nightal so basically it is winter for them lol. Again, I'll eventually I will post my longfic but I've just been holding off on it because life got in the way :( but eventually, it will make it on here lol.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F! RedeenedDark Urge Tiefling, My OC Amaya, Selunite Cleric/Paladin

Word Count: IDK roughly 700?

Very fluffy and sweet, Astarion being the little sweetheart that he is behind closed doors. This takes place after Cazador and after Bhaal.

Story:

The bitter cold of the Grey Harbor's icy waters still clung to Amaya's bones. After spending far too long rescuing Omeluum and a bunch of gondians from the Iron Throne, she'd caught a nasty chill. Now buried under a mountain of blankets in their small private shared room at the Elfsong Tavern, she shivered despite the warmth of their bed.

The door creaked open as Astarion sauntered in, his silver hair catching the dim candlelight. His eyes narrowed playfully at the sight of the blanket fortress before him.

"Little love, what in the hells are you doing?" he asked, amusement dancing in his voice.

Amaya's reply came muffled through the layers. "Nothing. This happens to be the warmest place in all of Faerûn right now."

"Oh, I'm sure you're not as cold as me," Astarion drawled, a smirk playing on his lips. "But do let me in so we can share what little warmth you've managed to hoard."

A small opening appeared in the blanket mountain, and Astarion wasted no time. He shed his ruffled white nightshirt and slippers before diving under the covers. Amaya immediately entangled her legs with his, pressing her frozen feet against his.

"Tsk, I knew you were being dramatic. You're not even that col— BY THE NINE HELLS, GET YOUR ICE BLOCK FEET OFF ME!"

"You said I wasn't that cold!" Amaya protested, fighting back a grin.

"That was before you turned into a literal ice mephit!"

Amaya turned away with an exaggerated pout, only to be betrayed by a sudden fit of coughing.

Astarion's teasing tone softened. "Look, little moon, I simply wasn't prepared for you to be so cold, usually I'm the one that's frozen to the touch. But that cough sounds dreadful. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she mumbled unconvincingly.

In one fluid motion, Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. "No, you're not. You're sick, aren't you? I knew you spent too long searching for that mindflayer. The Grey Harbor waters is treacherous this time of year—"

"Are you about to lecture me again about not taking care of myself?"

"I have never lectured you!" Astarion protested, then paused. "Well, perhaps occasionally. I just... I worry about you, that's all."

Amaya turned in his arms, nestling her head against his chest. He responded by holding her tighter, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair avoiding her horns from poking him in his eyes.

"It's just a small cold," she assured him between coughs. "It'll pass."

"This 'small cold' could worsen if not treated properly. I may be a vampire immune to such ailments, but I despise seeing you unwell. What if—"

"Astarion," she interrupted, "have you forgotten I'm a cleric? I've already taken medicine. It'll be gone in a day or two, hopefully."

"HOPEFULLY?"

"Now who's being dramatic?" She gazed up at him with those big brown eyes he could never resist, nuzzling closer with an innocent smile.

"Ugh, those eyes will be the death of me," he groaned. "You're fortunate you're so adorable. Would you like some tea?"

Her face scrunched up. "It won't be like that concoction you gave me in the Shadowlands, will it?"

Astarion rolled his eyes. "That was Shadowheart's recipe because you weren't eating properly then. I'm offering simple tea this time, love."

"Hmm... I suppose that would be nice."

As Astarion began to untangle himself, Amaya grabbed his arm. "Wait!"

"Yes, darling?"

"Can I come with you?"

"Don't you want to stay in your carefully constructed blanket fortress?"

"Yes, but I also want to watch you inevitably mess up making tea." Her laugh turned into another coughing fit.

"Ah, karma strikes swiftly," Astarion chuckled, unable to suppress his own smile. "Very well, come along. Perhaps we'll witness me somehow make tea explode."

He tossed his nightshirt to her and waited as she slipped it on, then wrapped her snugly in a blanket. After sliding his feet back into his slippers, he led her out of their room toward the makeshift kitchen that Gale created in the center of the inn's floor, ready to embark on his next great adventure: attempting to brew tea for his beloved.

_______________________________________

Some of my other small things I've written!

Underdark Trysts | Before Climbing the Netherbrain's Stem

[mothmimic]

Mystical Powers?

at work I drank a cold brew coffee, diet coke, and sweet tea all at the same time and I had to release the caffeine somehow I’m so sorry

‣ pairing: Astarion x reader but from Gale’s POV

‣ words: 1697

‣ content: all jokes, Gale is purposefully mischaracterized, Gale is a ‘nice guy’ and owns smut fanfiction (implied), unrequited rivalry, Gale is basically Matthew Patel

───────────────────

‣ summary: Gale has done everything for you. Yes, he has ate your artifacts, but the reason you even offered them was because you were undoubtedly attracted to him. It was obvious from the way you talked to him last out of the entire group before going to sleep every night. He was just special like that. However, others— specifically a seductive white-haired elf— are not so keen to respect your guy’s destiny to be together. Gale sets out to prove luscious locks are never more important than a pure heart (without any ulterior motives at all).

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Gale rummaged through his collections of books, desperately searching for the one holy piece of information that could grant him a solution to this little problem of his. This problem was not one of scholarly importance, he was well aware, and it was not likely he would find his answer in his ancient texts. But these books were all he knew. What was he going to do, communicate like a normal human that had not been cooped up in his depression tower for years? Blasphemy.

He had taken much of his time alone as of late to contemplate on how he should proceed with the situation. He was not avoiding it, obviously not. He was merely worried for your safety. A fragile one like you was not meant to associate yourself with those like Astarion, an elf skilled in the craft of manipulation and deceitful seduction. Astarion had merely blinded you. Gale was your only hope for freedom. He definitely did not think this just because he wanted to feel needed. And definitely not because he was just sick of seeing the both of you make bedroom eyes across each nightly bonfire.

Lost in his thoughts, his attention suddenly snapped back as he noticed a book of interest. He picked it up gingerly as he read the title.

“Taken by the Vampire King… What a lovely piece of literature, if I do say so myself.” He muttered as he began to delicately pry the cover open. He suddenly stopped himself and slammed the book closed as he remembered the point of this search. “No, this will not assist me. Well…. if seduction is what draws Tav to the pale elf, then I suppose…”

“Now what in the hells are you doing making such a mess in here?”

The sudden voice nearly caused Gale to literally explode, his hands grasping at his chest to calm himself. He spasmed for a minute as his brain rebooted. “Uh, uh, I—“ And then, as if a switch was flipped on inside his brain, he irritably whipped around. “To all gods, Astarion, what are you doing giving me such a fright in the middle of the night? Do you know nothing of peace?”

“Pardon me, but I am an elf. I’m not in need of sleep like you poor little things.” He snorted, conceited as usual, prowling over towards Gale and taking a peek at the book before Gale can even throw it across his tent. “And I see you’re busying yourself with… important matters, hm?”

“It’s for educational— No, what do you want from me, Astarion?”

“Just a friend…” he pouted like a neglected child, collapsing onto Gale’s bedroll in defeat. Gale would feel a twinge of guilt if it was not his mortal enemy saying those words. And also if there wasn’t an obvious layer of sarcasm beneath.

“No, no, out with it.”

“Uh, fine. I was wondering if you had some type of strength potion. I feel like utter shit.” Astarion sighed as he threw his head back, blowing a strand of wandering hair out of his face. Gale studied him as he was distracted— it didn’t seem like he was lying. He looked like utter shit, his hands twitching and under eyes so dark as if he had never seen the sun in his 200+ years of life. (Gale would soon realize this observation was, in fact, accurate)

“Yeah, I see that. And I’m a wizard, not an alchemist, actually. A wizard merely studies their practice of magic through multiple sources of teachings while an alchemist…”

Gale continued on as Astarion sat there in silence. It was not a respectable type of silence, but rather one of ‘if this dude doesn’t shut up I think I might actually kill him.’ His hands began to clench into fists, his nails digging into his flesh as Gale’s nonsensical words pounded through his brain. The tadpole was not the only force controlling him tonight. His eyes flickered with hunger, yet Gale did not notice.

“Gale.”

“Alchemists deserve all the respect, of course, yet they are unaccustomed to my field of— Ah, yes?”

“How does your blood taste?”

The wizard stopped in his tracks. “I- I’m sorry?” He waited for a response for a moment. When he did not get one he continued. “Well, if you must know, my blood actually tastes of bile. You see, it serves as a natural precaution against…” He thought for a moment. “Certain entities.”

Astarion had nothing more to say than a simple, “Hm.” The two looked at eachother for a brief second, awkwardly, one weighing his options and the other debating if it was fitting to run away. Fortunately for Gale, within another second the pale elf was gone from his tent, leaving the wizard with a cloud of confusion. And maybe just a bit of fear. He stood there a moment before his eyes slowly trailed to the book now on the other side of the tent. He remembered the bloodless boar on the side of the road. He pictured Astarion’s scarlet gaze, burning with desire for something unfathomable. Suddenly he knew the answer to his problem.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Gale had been watching the two of you ever since that unsettling night. He had witnessed some unsavory moments, yes, but everyone has to make their sacrifices. And his sacrifices were undoubtedly worth it— every night he stayed awake long enough to watch the elf make his way into the forest to sustain himself on blood from some unknown source. This night in particular was one that would change everything. This night was the night he would reveal Astarion’s true nature to you.

After witnessing Astarion make his way into the forest for his nightly ritual, Gale hurriedly makes his way into your tent.

“Y/N? Y/N! Wake up now, this is dire!”

“Huh—“ You, wide awake, turn around to Gale’s face a few mere inches from yours. “Gale! Why the hells are you in my tent?” You hiss, backing up to escape his pleading puppy eyes.

“No time for questions, we must go into the forest! There, a truth will be uncovered, and you will be free from the vampire’s wicked hold!”

You’re about to ask Gale to speak like a normal person, yet he quickly grabs your hand and drags you outside before you can protest. “Gale, this isn’t really—“

“I assure you it is!”

Without another word he leads you both onto Astarion’s trail. The only problem is that Gale does not seem to know exactly where the pale elf has wandered off to, as he has never before made the courageous decision to follow him into the unknown abyss of the woods. You watch him anxiously look around and mutter to himself. You sigh knowingly, turning away from him and walking on a path you’ve traced many times before.

“Wait, wait! It is incredibly dangerous and you do not know where your judgements may lead you!”

“I promise you I do.” You pointedly say, leading him deeper into the forest so familiar to both you and Astarion. You stop as you reach an area uncovered by the canopy of leaves.

“Why-“ Gale begins before catching sight of the perpetrator. There he is, standing there in the moonlit clearing, shirtless. Gale would probably take more notice to the current scenario if he did not already have a speech planned.

“You- You creature! I knew there was something foul deep within you from the moment we met! I recognized your intent all along— to simply deceit every innocent being you came upon, to lead them under your malicious influence. But here I stand, shattering your mask and revealing your true being: a vampire! Cower under my fireball—“ Gale stops for a minute, trying to remember what to do next, before quickly summoning a fireball in his hands like he originally intended. “And consider our fight… BEGUN!”

The crickets chirp as he finishes his lengthy speech. Astarion is the first to speak.

“…Is that all?”

“Yes. W-was it not obvious?”

With Gale’s answer, you and Astarion immediately break into a fit of laughter. Gale stands there, confused, quickly glancing between the two of you and wondering what the joke was.

“And what are you gonna prove my ‘true being’ with, oh wise wizard?” Astarion smirks, still collecting himself.

“With—! With…” Gale pauses, looks around in a panic, and realizes a key factor of his plan is missing. There is not a bloodless life to be seen. “What in the realms— Why are you here, then, Astarion? What do you sustain yourself with? Answer me!”

Astarion merely purses his lips, rhythmically tapping his fingers to the side of his face. He gives Gale a pitiful pout. “Oh dear… This is a bit awkward, isn’t it?”

And suddenly Gale realizes. He turns to you immediately, the fireball now accidentally pointed at you. “You knew?!”

You raise your hands in protest, eyeing the fireball in his hands. “I-I mean, yeah. Like, everybody knew. Except you, of course.”

“What?”

“They are right,” Astarion adds, “Nobody told you because you are a little… well… extreme.” A pause. “And desperate.”

“I’m— I’m not—!” Gale’s fireball just burns brighter, and you begin to think it’s enough to send the entire forest into flames. However, you’re more worried about the possibility of him literally exploding and obliterating everything in his proximity. You glance towards Astarion, whose eyebrows are furrowed at the same thought. The resentment in Gale’s eyes grows brighter with the flame. Yet, suddenly, the fire disappears. The wizard looks as if he’s about to collapse into despair at any moment. “I don’t understand! You make no sense!”

He turns towards you and points an accusing finger. Astarion just shrugs as you glance towards him. “Even when I am right in front of you, laying down my life, you do not care! I am a respectable wizard, name known to beings far and wide! What does he offer, huh?”

You silently raise your eyebrow. Gale just scowls.

“Ugh. Typical.” And with that he whips around, his sleep robe lashing behind him. As he storms off he adds, “Don’t even add me to your party tomorrow. Or ever.”

You weren’t planning on it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So a few days ago I posted something about making a ‘nice guy’ Gale fanfic but not posting it out of shame and I ended up getting like 30+ likes so I thought it was only fair to actually post. Anyway please don’t hold me accountable for this k thanks love u guys I’ll probably have LOTR content soon

[animentality]

It's tough because I hate the Astarion haters on Reddit, who are just misogynistic and homophobic and dismissive of the character because they hate how gay he acts and also how many women love him.

but I also hate BookTok Astarion fangirls who feel the need to assert how superior Astarion is on every fucking Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Shadowheart, Minthara, Lae'zel, Karlach or pretty much any BG3 video at all. Like we get it. He's white.

And then I'm ambivalent on the Tumblr Astarion fans because there are the people who simply like him and make fun art and fun meta analysis about him, and then there are the people in my inbox currently telling me that Astarion's Ascended ending is morally correct and it's not a bad ending for the character, and if I disagree, then I hate women.

You're correct that I hate women, but it has nothing to do with Astarion.

Also, I once again point out, that your own husbando literally tells you outright in both endings that being Ascended ruins/ruined who he used to be and also your love for one another.

Your man literally says that your love would have been corrupted by becoming his spawn, and you still cling to the idea that your character is living happily ever after.

He's not making you a vampire queen, he's making you a vampire pet. And it's fine to like that ending. I don't care if you LIKE bad, unhappy endings. That is your prerogative. But you are simply incorrect if you say that it's the "happy" ending for the character, when it clearly is not.

No one ever said you had to use your skull for anything other than cold cut storage, I just don't see why it's even necessary to argue your point to me.

Stay in your Astarion echo chamber, and block me. I don't have time or energy to block all of you.

Anyway.

It sucks because I really like Astarion, he's my favorite love interest.

I really enjoy his storyline and his growth as a person and how sweet he is. He's also very funny. All the companions have great voice acting behind them, but Neil really knocked it out of the park, and I honestly think the character would be far less popular if they'd picked any other actor.

But the fandom around him is just...awful.

It's a mixed bag of normal, unnormal in a fun way, and unnormal in a "you need to fucking step off in this Walmart bitch" way.

It's why I'd rather interact with Dark Urge and Gortash fans.

Much smaller subset of the fandom, so I don't have to deal with the generic crazies, and we're all such freaks that we don't feel the need to go around acting like Gortash is a good person.

I also only ever see people saying these two are fucking disgusting and horrible and I'd murder them in real life and honestly, true and based.

No happy endings for those two, and that's fine for me. In fact, it's great.

See, Astarion girlies, this is called...knowing your ship doesn't deserve a happy ending after all they have done, and knowing it wouldn't be a happy ending if they got together, but being able to acknowledge that and not get bent out of shape trying to justify it.

Stop tying your irl morality to your tastes in fiction.

I never said that liking the ascended ending made you a bad person in real life.

I just said that pretending it's good and happy and great and not continuing the cycle of abuse, is factually incorrect.

And it is.

Every single bad ending for all the love interests is literally continuing the cycle of abuse. Why would Astarion's be any different?

But maybe I'm being bold in assuming you even know the other love interests exist or have stories. Maybe you don't even know the general story of baldur's gate 3, because it is, as you say, the vampire dating sim, and it's definitely not about anything other than banging the sexy vampire.

Media literacy weeps.

Anyway.

Not ruining my enjoyment of the game.

Just my general tolerance for the fandom that is not Durge and Gortash obsessed.

[poetryvampire]

Hi! I'm the anon who wanted to share my Astarion x Zevlor thoughts! I know I asked to share but I'm glad you shared your thoughts instead! Please don't feel dumb 🥺

I wanted to share my thoughts & ask for your opinion that despite both men hating each other at first, Zevlor would be the one to notice the act Astarion is performing and would be kind to him! Not only you had the same idea, you even elaborated so much than I could 😍 I had a long & tiring day so you made my day ☺️

I definitely agree that they're adventurous but they would cuddle with each other 🫂 Astarion has princess energy while Zevlor is a knight in shining armour as well as their shipnames are PERFECT (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

I love it especially how much angst this ships has 😁, both of them can't stand each other so much that they literally can't do anything because of it is what I thought too 🤣, both of them decided to stay away from each other 🫸, the elf needed answers for his kindness makes sense 👍,

Astarion flirted with him...to be flustered by Zevlor flirting while being a gentleman 🤭, the rouge didn't know how to feel about it at first but kept seeking for his company 👥, the paladin noticed how unwell the vampire looked & offered his blood 🫴,

he was uncertain but knew he needed to feed 🩸, he's thankful that it's surprisingly gentle 🤭, both of their hearts were racing 💓, Zevlor enjoying pulpy romance novels & Astarion is amused at his stories of his youth 😁, both of them are weighed by their pasts which makes perfect sense 😭, both men need to heal first before being each other's reminders 🥹,

just them longing yearning for each other 💕, the tiefling looking at him with love & caressing his cheek before asking if he can kiss him 🤭, the elf kissing him before he could finish asking 💋, the vampire kissed him everywhere 😘, the rouge was nervous to ask him to wait until he's ready but the Hellrider reassured him with his words & actions 👍,

Astarion didn't expect to long to be in Zevlor's arms as he had never fallen in love before 🥺, he's both anxious yet excited 😖😆, just how loving Zevlor is when he made love to Astarion 💕, both of them were a mess which makes sense 😭,

both men are a menace to the rest because they would do it anywhere which they got caught often 😂, the elf regained his confidence to tease the tiefling 😁, he enjoys flustering him 😳, the rogue removed his book to ride on the paladin while only in HIS shirt 👕, it drives the Hellrider wild seeing the vampire ride him 😏,

they love to cuddle that they even when they're fallen asleep 😴, they enjoy morning sex because of how slow & intimate it is 😌, Astarion sleeps soundly with Zevlor 🥹, and the elf melts at how the tiefling holds him & his tail around his ankle without him realising 🫠 🤭 Thank you for sharing your thoughts! All of it is wonderful 😊

I have a new thought to share and I would love to know your opinion! Astarion wears a shirt with the same shade of Zevlor's hair while Zevlor wears a shirt with the same shade of Astarion's hair! Not only I thought it would compliment their skin tones well at least to me since I'm not the best with colours 😅, the colours would remind them of the sun & of snow!

The elf thought of how his hair reminds him of the burning sun which is like his passion and his warmth both literally and his personality ☀️ The tiefling though of how his hair reminds him of the cold but pleasant snow which is like how cold he can both his behaviour & how his skin feels but he can feel and be wonderful when embraced ❄️ Could you tell me your opinion? And if it makes sense or not 😂

OMG 💖 💖💖 I'm so so happy you liked my rambles lol! We're on the same page about them 🥰

Also I love your idea sooo much! I never thought about it before but you're so right. Like I feel like those colors would look great on them but also it's so adorable. ☀️ Sun and snow ❄️! That's perfect for them like Zevlor has such huge sun energy. He's strong and warm and fills Astarions life with light. And Astarion cold, beautiful and maybe a bit harsh lol just like snow/winter. That's so lovely thank you so much for sharing 😊 ✨️💜✨️

[smt4flynn]

embiggen, embolden

Rating: R18/Explicit (Minors DNI)

Notes: This is a story about misusing the enlarge spell to do some shenanigans with Astarion. I wrote this in the coffee shop where I constantly kept oscillating between being cold and EXTREMELY cold, so I lost steam a little bit, but I wanted to finish it!

On AO3 this is apparently 4K wordcount. Also, you can find this on ao3 under the same name, by ao3 user Voidromeda! =)

-----

This isn’t the first time you cast Enlarge on Astarion – during combat, of course, just to help boost his combat prowess even further (and it does terrify you how strong he quickly becomes, helped by the fact that he finally lets Lae’zel and Karlach be his coaches) – but you normally recall it fading away after some time. You do not recall it ever backfiring and making him even bigger, to the point that he is literally towering over all of you, and looking confused as he is.

“I have looked everything over,” Gale says after a while, stood in front of a sitting, cross-legged Astarion who is now almost thrice everyone’s size, his hands are clasped in front of him and he seems to be smiling too wide, “and my conclusion is this: assuming if, and if, you did all of the incantations correctly and used the proper gesticulations, and given that I was there to hear you do the correct chant, the somatic and verbal components should not be the issue at hand here. The only thing I can assume is that the materials used were at fault somehow, or that the weave decided today, of all days, to be a right petty bastard and Mystra wished to have a lark at your expense.”

Astarion huffs out in annoyance, his breath ruffling Gale’s hair, and he turns around to look at him with his own momentary irritation . Astarion throws his hands up in faux surrender. “So, to boil it all down for us little peoples,” his voice practically drips venom, “you have no clue why this happened and, for all you know, you have no clue when I am going to turn back.”

“Correct!” and you have to hold back a laugh at the fact that Gale seems to be enjoying Astarion’s mounting irritation a little too much.

“I am big enough to eat you.” he says.

“But you and I know you won’t do that, unless you want a netherese bomb in your body! And I don’t think you want to figure out how to vomit me out to resurrect me!”

“Or how to shit you out.” Astarion grumbles, but he is too big for it to be quiet, and Karlach snorts particularly loudly at that. Lae’zel looks disgruntled, as she always does, and she looks between you, Gale, and Astarion before letting out an annoyed declaration in Gith and decides to leave them at that.

Shadowheart eyes the (rather) giant vampire, then turns to Karlach as she says, “you know, now that he’s bigger than you, he could probably carry you around and withstand your engine.”

“OH. YOU’RE RIGHT.” Karlach says a little too loudly. A glare from Astarion has her hushing herself, “oh, you’re right!” she repeats, and Astarion pointedly pokes her away with an index when Karlach tries to climb up on top of him. He hisses a little, though it isn’t as bad of a response as the rest of you had to touching Karlach. That has her eyes alight with excitement, much to Astarion’s chagrin. “But, he’d eventually get burnt up, yeah? Probably ain’t a reason to bother ‘im, he already looks like he’s about to blow and he’s not the one with the engine. Dammon said, anyway, that we just gotta find one last iron.”

“You won’t be able to ride around on his back.” Shadowheart says with an arch of her eyebrow. “Unless, of course, you’d like to go find one right now so we can rush on back to Dammon and try out your newfound touch on Astarion.”

“Teeeeeempting, tempting, but I don’t think we should just rush ‘round for a bit, yeah? It’s so tempting though! Ugh! I hate making good decisions!”

She gives him a good-nature grin and Astarion puffs air her way, which happens to also ruffle your and Shadowheart’s hairs. Despite him not needing to really eat (“of course I can still taste food,” he says to you after you give him a piece of chocolate cake that you particularly really like, “it’s just dulled, and not at all nutritious for me, it’s not even a luxury . Your blood is like heaven on my tongue. Why would I want anything else? ”), his breath smells like some sort of rosy ale mixed with a vanilla pastry. It isn’t that bad, though it still is a bit unpleasant.

“And what of you, Halsin? What do you make of this?” Gale spins on his heel to point over to the druid who arches an eyebrow up at Astarion, just as puzzled as everyone else is that the vampire is now... large. Quite, quite large.

“Though wizards and sorcerers oft pride themselves on their honed control over the weave, be it granted, earned, or both,” Halsin says pleasantly, as though he is talking about the weather and naught else, “it is not so strange that even the most skilled of wizards and the most gifted of sorcerers, or others should they have a grasp of it, shall have their mind wander and for the spell’s consistency to slip. One’s tools can only be as consistent as one’s body and mind.”

“So you think I got distracted, and that led to the spell backfiring?” you question. You aren’t really offended by it; the last combat encounter you have, where this mistake occurs, is a hectic one, with reanimated corpses reaching out to grasp at you and try to drag you under. “That makes sense.” and Halsin nods thoughtfully your way. “So the best thing to do is to just wait?”

“Yes.” Halsin gives you a smile and you smile awkwardly back.

Gale takes this as his cue to leave, citing having found some new books that he would like to look through while they wait for Astarion’s condition to fix itself, and Karlach gets herded away by Shadowheart so that they can do something else. Wyll, who has been absent for most of this, suggests to the former two and to Lae’zel to go patrolling around the Shadow-Cursed lands, and the three women jump at the opportunity to leave.

When you look over, Gale disappears into somewhere and you think it best not to ask. Halsin, seeing that people seem to be leaving to do their own activities, excuses himself to go and look further into the Shadow-Cursed lands, to try and see if he can find anything now that he is more experienced. It is just you and Astarion now, the vampire staring at you with some mixture of interest and mischief.

“So!” Astarion clicks his tongue. You look at him a bit warily. He must be a bit angry at you, considering that you’re the reason as to why this happens, though you can’t see it anywhere on his face. That’s even worse, your mind supplies, because Astarion – for all everyone makes fun of him for being extremely obvious – can also be frightfully subtle when he wants to be. When he puts the effort in, you have seen him speak sweet little lies to some of the still sentient shades, encouraging them to curl further to Shadowheart before they melt painfully under her cast of daylight.

You think he does not try on the living because some form of guilt keeps him at bay. What happens when that bit of guilt is gone, you wonder?

“So.” you say when he stays quiet. Astarion smirks at your uncertainty.

When he comes to a stand, properly, you find yourself just a little below his crotch – Karlach, earlier, points and bellows loudly that she is ‘almost dick-height! Just a little above it, actually, that’s fucking hysterical!’ which is why Astarion makes sure to stay sitting for a good while. You, however, stand so close to crotch height it is mortifying. You have to take a step back and crane your neck up, almost painfully so, to be able to look at him.

It shocks you when he simply scoops you up into his arm, lifting you up on one elbow, and you are held up to his face rather easily. He gives you a cheeky grin. “Admittedly, I was miffed with you at first; it really is hard to be so,” he clicks his tongue, “stealthy when you’re a huge brute. But I think I’m beginning to see the upsides!”

“The upsides.” you say flatly. He chuckles, the sound seemingly louder because of his size, and he uses one hand to carefully cradle your head and bring you close for an awkward kiss. Your lips are so small in comparison to his, and it embarrasses you a little how tiny you feel. “Astarion,” you start, pushing his face back a bit, and you give him a half-hearted glare, “can you – can you not have desires right now when you’re way too big for me?”

“But darling,” and he drags it out just to annoy you, snickering at the little tick in your brow, “when will we ever get an opportunity like this again, hm? Us all alone, no one to bother us, especially when these lands are cursed as they are. Don’t you want to see how big I’ve gotten down there? I’m curious to see it myself.”

You want to say that you are a bit more forceful when you say no.

Astarion carries you away from the camp, blessed as you both are by Isobel’s magics, though you have a feeling that Selûne will more than likely disapprove of how Astarion is taking advantage of your weak protections. You aren’t really... isolated, given that Astarion is still so large and attracting attention, but nothing really wants to approach him when he is so, so large. Undressing you is extremely easy for him, and you find yourself being cradled gently by him. His eyes are wide, taking you apart, and the hunger on his face is even more unavoidable because of his size. His fingers, which have always been larger than yours, positively dwarf your legs when he helps hold you up in the air.

Holding you up like this, with his hands trying to cradle you while his thumbs attempt to spread your legs, you feel like a bug under intense scrutiny. He exhales out through his nose, instinctively despite the vestigial nature of it all, and you shudder from the way his breath washes over you. He leans closer to you, crowding you, and his large lips press a dainty kiss against your folds. You grab at one of his thumbs when it comes to rest on your belly, his tongue rolling out to drag between your soft folds.

You whimper; it is a lot of sensation at once, rubbing against your labia all at once, even when he tries to thin it, narrow it to press it against your hole. He pushes you closer lips completely overtaking your vulva, large tongue lapping mindlessly between your folds, and you moan loudly from the sensation. He hums approvingly, the vibrations all too much at once, head tilting to the side to mouth at your thigh.

“Do you trust me for a moment, darling?” Astarion says.

“For more than a moment.” you say, your voice a bit rough from your moaning, and Astarion grins ever so sweetly at you before his expression becomes thoughtful.

“I’m going to put you further into my mouth,” he warns, “nothing will happen to you. You’ll be fine. Trust me.” and you do, of course. You nod at him when he looks at you, verbalise it next when his expression grows sharp, and his tongue rolls out once more to give you a distracting, flat, broad lick against your swollen vulva.

His mouth opens over your vagina again, his tongue dragging from your swollen, emerging clit down to your puckered hole. He laps against you, quick, skilled flicks of his tongue even with his larger muscle, and you writhe and whine loudly. He pulls back for a moment, looking at you critically, before his mouth falls open and you try not to kick at him when his lips wrap around your feet, up until your ankles. He lets you slip further into his mouth – and it is so hot and wet inside, lips wrapped around half of your body, and your hands come to rest above his upper lip when he finally stops.

Wildness flashes briefly in his eyes before he squeezes them shut and opens them to look at you carefully. His tongue slathers his saliva against your legs, briefly exploratory, tasting your skin in a way that makes you shiver from the discomfort and odd excitement of being at his mercy in an entirely different way. The muscle flattens up against your vulva once more, pressing between your folds, swirling his tongue around before going back to tasting your legs, drenching you in his saliva.

Your hips jump up, trying to move in tandem with his tongue when he goes back to licking you mercilessly, the tip of his tongue swirling around your engorged clit. It lays flat, swirling and grinding against your clit, flicking it up and down, and you shake, shiver. You press your hands against his skin, unable to move your body much because of it trapped in his mouth.

It is when you are able to cum in his mouth, your whines and moans getting louder, shamefully so, that Astarion pulls you out of his mouth, murmurs a prestidigitation under his breath to wipe the saliva away, and you shiver at how suddenly cold you feel. He grins lopsidedly down at you. “See? It wasn’t that bad now, was it, darling?” and he presses a sloppy kiss between your legs, against your sensitive vagina, and you shiver.

He settles you down onto his knee, stopping you when you try to grind against him, and he clicks his tongue. You stiffen up, grasping at his leather trousers, bunching it up in your pathetically small hands. He works to unfasten his strings, pausing before he has to set you aside so he can undress himself. You can only watch as his body is revealed to you – blouse peeled off of his body, trousers shoved down and away, and embroidered underwear thrown aside to reveal his horrifically large erection.

It stands painfully erect before you, dripping copiously at its enlarged tip, and Astarion lifts you up again to sit on his abdomen. He leans back, his cock slapping against your back when you sit up, spreading his pre over you, and it feels like you are being marked by some sort of feral beast. Astarion chuckles at the look on your face, a fond expression overtaking him for a moment.

“You always were such a little thing.” he murmurs (he likes how small you are, how he can cage you in his arms and hold you, that you are the smallest out of them all and it makes him want to do terrible things to you while holding you in his arms), “but this is ever sweeter. Do you think you can take me?”

Looking behind yourself, to his hard, large erection that throbs and oozes more pre-cum from your gaze, then looking down at your vulva that feels like it will break in half, you know you can’t. “I will most definitely try.” is what you say instead, because you always want to please him, you know you do.

He helps you move up, his slender fingers wrapping around his pale, pretty penis; not a single hair anywhere, wonderfully thick and perfectly long, spreading you nicely before and now threatening to rip you in half, and he gives himself a few strokes just for some form of relief. You spread your legs, leaning back and his cock slaps against your back when he lets go so that he can instead press his fingers against your small hole.

One finger is a pleasant stretch. It sinks into you readily, making you huff and moan loudly from the sensation; you whimper with a bit of fear when a second finger presses against your wonderfully stuffed hole, his fingernail catching a bit at your rim before he presses it incessantly in. It takes some trying, your tongue rolling out from your panting; you struggle, muscles tensing and relaxing in short little bursts before you finally let that second finger in, and your eyes roll up into your head from the intense stretch.

It sinks in until the second knuckle, your mouth open with endless, whiny moans; it’s so much, forcing your stuffed vagina to accept even more in, and you wail when both fingers are pressed deep inside of you. His large thumb presses down on your sensitive clit and you make a strangled noise, hips jumping forward and you let out a soft squeak at the way his fingers feel inside of you.

“Good, good, you’re doing so good,” he murmurs, sick excitement painting his face and staining his voice as you fuck yourself on his large fingers. You pulse and flutter around his fingers, a shriek pushed out of you when he drags his fingers out just to thrust them mercilessly back in. You are most definitely going to gape the moment his fingers are done with you and Astarion seems to come to the same realisation with how roughly he keeps thrusting them in and out of you.

His cock twitches against you; his eyes are wild, staring down at your poor little hole that is going red from his attentions, stretched wide around his two fingers. When he teases a third one in, you babble incoherently – “I can’t take another!” you cry out and Astarion hushes you.

“You can darling, you can, come on,” he encourages, the third finger feeling almost impossibly too much, yet he still presses it against your fluttering, full hole. You don’t even know how he pushes it in – perhaps when he pulls the two fingers out and introduces the third amidst the soaked two, and it is shameful how much pre you yourself are dripping all over him. You don’t even get a second to register what is happening before he slams three fingers in and you are orgasming violently from the intense, almost-painful stretch.

Squirting copiously, you weep and beg when he keeps his thrusts going, extending your orgasm even as your cum begins puddling on his stomach, and it is only when you can cum no more and your voice is just pathetic whimpering that he pulls his soaked fingers out. His face is utterly wild, making him look almost feral, bestial, and he spreads your folds open further to stare at your gaped open hole.

“That looks like it could take me.” he says with strained breath, voice rough and a low growl, and he grabs you by the hips while you still feel insensate and boneless from your rough orgasm. The head of his cock feels almost comically large as he presses you against it, your hole spasming wildly, clenching up to drip more onto his erection and almost as if dreading how empty it is, before it relaxes open again and Astarion keens loudly.

He pushes you down, your hands flailing a bit before resting on his abdomen when he pushes down enough for it. He isn’t even halfway inside of you before you feel so stuffed, filled up with so much of his penis that you are surprised you haven’t torn completely open; perhaps it is a good thing he introduced the third finger, even though he no doubt adds it in because of the fact that he is lost in the sensation, in the moment. Your claws drag at his belly, sliding against your own cum and he giggles, your own much breathier than his own, because it is ridiculous how much he made you cum.

“You’re so – so – so incorrigible,” you slur out a little, your hole unable to even clench down on his fat erection, and his hands push down on your hips while you try to comply with him. It’s so much – he’s too much as he is right now, hands slipping on his stomach and you arch your back, thighs tensing up from the effort of trying to sink further, further down.

His fingers come to rest on your abdomen, his voice a bit awed as he says, “your belly’s bulging with me. You can’t take me.” but that doesn’t stop him; you look down and see he is right, his shape is poking through, bulging you obscenely with his erection. You feel like you are being hollowed out by him, and it doesn’t help when you aren’t even down all the way and Astarion is grabbing onto you and taking over.

All of your movement is abruptly taken away and controlled entirely by him. You scream so loudly that you are sure even the hunting team, so far away, can hear you; your tongue slips out again, your right hand slipping on his stomach before messily coming to your own clit to stroke and rub it as Astarion begins fucking you.

Both of you are just grunting, groaning animals, him growling exactly like one, and his eyes are wide and feral, focused on how your poor vagina can’t take all of him with how big he is. He babbles incomprehensibly at you, as if trying to praise you, though absolutely nothing he says makes sense, and you can’t help but laugh before it turns into a high-pitched whine.

“Please, cum for me, cum, let me see you cum around me,” Astarion says, the first coherent thing to slip out of his wet lips and his eyes shine bright now with love, and it is that begging, the way he looks at you, that sets you off again. Your orgasm isn’t as violent as the first time, though it still gets to you that you squirt again – far less copiously this time, but still enough to add to the mess already cooling on him, and he coos lovingly at you.

With your legs now shaky, body exhausted by your orgasm, he slows down, his thrusts lazy and leisurely before he digs his feet into the darkened lands with his hands dripping to claw at the earth before he cums deep inside of you. The amount inside makes you yelp – your belly rounds out with his spend and it ends up being too much to stay inside, squirting around him as it starts to escape, and he pulls out to let the rest of it land on your vulva, inner thighs, and even on your stomach.

You can’t clench your hole shut to stop his spend from just dripping out of you, forced into a rather big gape, and you just hum when he settles you down beside him and lets you try and catch your breath.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Astarion begins, and you murmur into his arm that he lets you use as a pillow, “I am aware it was… abrupt, and perhaps I may have pushed you too far, but you were a good sport about it.”

You nuzzle into his elbow. “I’m more glad that you wanted to do this with me,” you say, voice so sleepy, mind more than hazy, “I want you to feel safe to explore whatever you want.” and you don’t get to see his loving, fond gaze before you fall asleep, your body pushed beyond belief.

[When the two of you go back to the camp, way later when his condition seems to have finally faded, you are utterly shamefaced because you both look dishevelled and like you’ve been up to no good, though Astarion seems to be in very bright spirits about it. You try not to maul him violently when he ‘innocuously’ asks Gale if there is any way to adjust one’s size when enlarged. Karlach’s hyena like laughter at your embarrassment makes you wish you could just die.

You hate this vampling so very, very much.]

[wetcatspellcaster]

"Angry lesbian" had me in tears 😂

This chapter had been heartbreaking. Poor Astarion. I want to hug him, with consent. While reading the part of what Cazador made him do in this fic and how public reacted, I remembered Gossip by Maneskin. Like, the celebrity culture is ridiculous as it is, but mixing in someone like Cazador to be the kinda monopolist of it... Oof. (Disney, I'm looking at you too)

I'm also was reminded of This is Us, a bit. I watched the show long time ago now, but yeah. That "pretty face, perfect body, don't you talk smart, you are not here for it", and all the confidence problems. Please don't get offended, I'm just connecting the dots to imagine how Astarion's healing may go. He is doing a fair enough job, thanks to Wyll mostly as I understand.

Also. The internalised homophobia. Is it there? Because I can smell it. With him assuming Rose is lesbian, and not really caring about representation, and like yeah, not everyone does, but. Oooh so much trauma. Sign him up for therapy, Wyll. Please.

I can imagine Wyll once tugging Astarion alone to one of the parties Karlach throws, and then him and Rose both accidentally hiding in the bathroom for some reset and quiet time.

Their messaging was so cute. And I assumed Rose was keeping it professional, as not answering work emails on her days off, but I guess I forgot who she truly is. Can't wait to read what they were up to.

So, is the apartment Rose visited in the apartment Astarion lives? I got confused about the printer being one of the few pieces of furniture there. Or is it just his own furniture that there is little of? Poor baby will have to start as a student who just moved out. And with his taste, it will be expensive. Unless he finds a sugar mummy Rosalie, but that'll come in ten years (probably), and I hope he will smarten up until then.

I was laughing at Astarion reading the books and taking in the multi syllabic words. I could imagine his Intelligence scale going 9.1, 9.2, 9.3 all the time.

It's hilarious and bittersweet how he thinks Rose is adapt when we all read and felt how anxious she was. And how she thought him so cold and collected, when Astarion is literally on the brink of breakdown over his career. The masks are on point.

And just how well you adapted game Astarion to this AU Astarion. He is just as haughty and just the same menace he was in game, but wrapped in more shiny (if that's possible) package. And the nods to the vampirism, even when he is not a vampire here. The hat, the love of sunlight, the shitty food, the insomnia! I've been screaming, even if that was incidental connections.

I can so imagine Astarion not reading type. He just isn't. He is too busy with other... Stuff. So hope Rose will show him the world. Of library. (Oh no, now I remember what Rose got up at libraries, and oof. Hot)

I can imagine it will take time for Astarion to trust her, and open up, since they barely know each other. It will be such a fun journey, I'm sure you will write it masterfully as always, and we will enjoy it immensely!

And the podcast part (that orcish woman - hot), and the book - "the soup" I bet was fun to write. And I'm with Astarion - I would've listened to Rosalie talk about everything for days. She is so expressive and clearly interested in the subject, that it will be very entertaining and educational. I wish she had been my history professor, because I would've enjoyed the lectures much more than I ever did, and now I'll learning history by myself. So I can understand Astarion's perspective at "oh shit, this person who was so glorified is actually not only ugly AF, but also a horrible horrible person"

Thank you so much for this chapter! It's a nice cozy reading for a dreary raining day!

hi anon! thanks for such a detailed message. i'm glad you're enjoying the fic :) tried to answer your question below!

I've never seen This Is Us, so I can't really be offended lol. If this turns out to be another Bojack Horseman moment where i find out my plot has affinities to shows I've never seen then, hurrah! there really are 7 basic plots in the world. (a lot of the inspiration was mostly from webtoons, kdrama, and - as always - buffy).

about internalised homophobia, I mean... there's a difference between internalised homophobia, and having a sense of belonging/community when being gay. lots of people are queer without it being political, or they 'keep politics out of it' - unless in this case, where it serves a narrative. i don't think it's homophobia, so much as not finding that belonging with anybody, right now. this astarion has no community, and also a great degree of privilege, so why would he care to engage or empathise with strangers he doesn't know? i was just using it as a way to stress his feelings of isolation, the same that in the first act of the game he is performing a social script without really feeling anything other than survival, and how he is also alienated from himself. if you don't feel good about yourself and you also don't have a support network, then why would you be openly vulnerable about any kind of queer experience, especially when it's overlapped with a degree of abuse, especially when you're learning to wield an insincere version of it as a new weapon?

...maybe when he has friends...

as for the 'angry lesbian' joke, we'll get round to why he is assuming that in the next chapter, and the answers is funnier than you think

the apartment Rosalie visited is where he lives. if you imagine an airbnb, an airbnb wouldn't have a printer. one of the few things he's had to buy outside of essentials, is all i meant. bc he doesn't really have anything he needs to buy right now.

all vampirism references/transformations are deliberate :) and parties incoming x

[omgkalyppso]

Étoile Ienith | High Elf | Paladin | They/He | 166

What is your Tav’s…

favorite weapon: mace as an elf, teeth as a vampire

most prized possession: this post is in Étoile's tag for a reason, everything is mutable / replaceable / subject to the ravages and loss of time

deepest desire: to serve Auril's interests

guilty pleasure: the thrill of combat

best-kept secret: I know I never shut up about it, but it would be that their mother was a werewolf

greatest strength: every one of Étoile's strengths is a flaw I think. Their conviction. They're willing to see their choices through, but the ability to accept their initial instincts were wrong might be better 🤪. Their determination to see an end goal realized regardless of personal cost to avoid their greatest fear - loss of autonomy - is what lands them in Raphael's pact, so, also not great. The traits that see them survive their journey land them in their Neutral Evil alignment. They want to stand up for worshippers of non-good-aligned deities, werewolves and the (un)dead, and it put them in opposition of their Paladin Order and Good people. It would feel silly to say their greatest strength is their literal strength / combat prowess aksjdfgjkahsg.

fatal flaw: self-sacrificial and not even smart about it

favorite smell: cold, pine, patchouli

favorite spell or cantrip: Auril's Flowers

pet peeve: people who are overly familiar

bad habit: "pick your battles. pick… pick fewer battles than that. put some battles back. that’s too many"

hidden talent: can repeat a tune on a flute after hearing it twice

leisure activity: reading

favorite drink: nonalcoholic - black rosehip tea; alcoholic - White Draconic Ale, Devil's Blood Whiskey, Deepwine

comfort food: bovine roast, maple butter cookies

favorite person(s): Aranea, Astarion, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Halsin, and on and on

favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): platonically - hugging; romantically - completing a task or favour that brings some delight to their partner

fondest childhood memory: developing their innate high elf cantrip Ray of Frost at seven years old; their mothers, worshippers of Auril, were very proud

Tagged by @razrogue (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o

Tagging: @umbralstars, @luinen-bluewater, @boghermit, @bosspigeon, @toucansafari, @sp3llw0rk, @lucius-the-sinful, @jackalopedread and YOU!

Also, about Étoile and being cold and swimming:

A friend has an oc who worships Umberlee and I read that worshippers of Umberlee don't learn to swim, and told them that I could picture Étoile's mothers teaching them to swim in a fucking frigid stream / river and using the reasoning "We don't worship Umberlee," and that in the ice water on their snow capped mountain, little Étoile complaining that "It's cold," would get such an earful from their priest of Auril mother, Aranea about how cold was a blessing, etc. So that even years later, if struck by an unexpected amount of cold water, like walking under a branch, or eavestroughing that spills water down their back, or if someone (cruelly?) tossed a cold bucket of water on them as they slept tranced that Étoile's instinctive reaction is to mutter / hiss / exclaim, "Praise Auril."

[paganwitchisis]

Chapter 5 "What Love Can Change" (WLCC)

Chapter Five:  Married at Last

Rated: E for Explicit!!

Pairing: AFAB Female Tav/Spawn Astarion

Words: 7,699

TRIGGER WARNING -Breeding kink, violence, descriptions of trauma, sexual assault, torture, suicide attempt and mention/idealization, self harm, starvation, depression, pregnancy, hyper-sexuality, and rape.

Last Chapter - here

This is chapter 5

Chapter 6 is here!

AO3 link is here!

“I should be the one with cold feet, dear.” Astarion joked since being a vampire afforded him the literal cold feet in this situation.

 “I’m excited to marry you, if that is what you’re asking.” Tav murmured, her breath tickling the tiny hairs on the side of his neck as her head lay on his shoulder into the side of the neck.

“I do have something I need to ask you, my love. I think I may have found a way to make you immortal. No, you wouldn’t be a mummify, lich, vampire, clone, or any other undead creature.” Astarion added the end to reassure her as he was fearful of her rejecting the proposal he considered.

“Sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?” Tav asked skeptically.

Astarion let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in.

“You obviously know Mystra, Gale’s lover.”

Tav chuckled. “I’m not sure I’d say that’s her highest achievement to describe her as nor still relevant.”  

“Alright, how about this, the Goddess of magic who above all else has mastery over it. Who wants something we can give her and only us. We hold bargaining power. She has the ability to give us a wish if we ask for it in exchange. You wouldn’t be ruled by eternal hunger like I am. You could still be you, but never die.“ Astarion felt like his mouth kept over explaining, trying desperately to convince her to go with the plan. In reality, he wanted her to become immortal not for her, but for his own selfishness. He couldn’t live without her.

“What could she want…wait…the Crown?” Tav came to the conclusion without Astarion needing to mention it. Astarion remained quiet as Tav continued to speak.

“Wouldn’t that betray Gale? Furthermore, wouldn’t that be a bad idea? That crown has caused nothing but problems and should be destroyed!” Tav picked her head up from his neck and turned to face him as she spoke.

Astarion tried to sound and look as neutral as possible when he spoke next.

“In regards to Gale, we wouldn’t tell him. I’d find a way to swipe it somehow during the final battle. He wouldn’t know. Also, before all this happened, remember the crown existed for quite some time in a devil’s vault. This crown is pure magic, she would know more than anyone how to deal with it.” Astarion tried to rationalize.

Tav stayed quiet for a moment and laid her head back down on his shoulder.

“I’ll think about it. This is too big a decision to make right away. I mean…I do want to be with you, but do I want to out live our friends and family? Do I want to give the Crown out instead of getting rid of it somehow? I don’t know. I need time.”  Tav mentioned .

Astarion held her snugly before giving a reply. “Take what time you need.”

Astarion wouldn’t tell her that his reasoning was selfish or that he couldn’t live without her. For once, he didn’t want to manipulate her. In the past? Sure, it provided security, but Astarion cared and respected Tav too much to do that to her. He was in an openly honest relationship with her, and although he wasn’t being fully honest, he didn’t want her to make a decision based on his needs.

The couple got dried off and dressed before deciding to retire to the shared room with their friends for the night, much to their friend’s surprise. It was still early enough that their friends hadnt turned in for the night.

“I see the young lovers found time to come see us tonight.” Halsin commented, a smirk on his face and a wink resting in his eye.

“What does that mean?” Tav asked, Astarion already agitated with the man from earlier when he gave him a detestable pet name.

“I mean, I think the whole Tavern could hear you both tonight. Nothing wrong with love, of course. I just thought you two would be…buried in each other all night.” Halsin laughed without abandon.

Astarion wasn’t a fan of the word choice or innuendo, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. The tavern also never mentioned to them anything about noise violations, so Astarion figured Halsin was just jesting at their expense.

“It was tempting, but we have a whole honeymoon for that! Gotta save some surprises.” Tav answered and smirked at the man.

Astarion glanced around the room to find Gale out cold on his bed, which made sense, since he was the most drunk out of his party. Wyll was chatting with Lae’zel, who Astarion noticed was glaring at them constantly with irritation. Karlach was talking to Tav and Shadowheart excitedly. Jaheira was plucking Boo out of the food while Minsc gave excuses. Astarion gave a half smile. These crazy weirdos were surprisingly his friends, and in a way, his new family. Maybe Tav was influencing him more than he thought…

That night the group played some games among themselves and had a fun time. Even Gale woke up and participated some. It was the calm before the storm, and the group knew it, because as soon as the festivities surrounding the wedding died down, it was time to wrap things up and finish their adventure they set off on so long ago.

That night, although they were back with their friends, Astarion went to lay in his bunk when a hand clasped his forearm and pulled him away. He knew those hands anywhere and knew Tav had something else in mind for him for sleeping arrangements.

Astarion almost tumbled backwards losing his balance when she directed him. Astarion turned to see her moving, her hand around his limb but most importantly he was facing the right direction and could walk appropriately without risk of fumbling over his two feet. Astarion was going to speak and opened his mouth only for Tav to turn her head and put her finger to her lips in a bid to ask him to be silent. Astarion was amused and listened to her direction. She brought him to the four beds on the side where Isobel and Dame Aylin used to come before they left to help others, promising to return for the final battle. There, she let go of his arm and slided into the bed, patting the outside of the bed in a bid to ask him to sleep with her in the small bunk. Astarion did as he was asked and held her close under the sheets that covered them both, a little over dressed than he would like for the intimacy he craved. He didn’t crave sex, at least not that moment. His body was sated from the intense session just hours ago. He wanted to be as close as he possibly could with her, his fears about the upcoming battle and his concern about his brethren finding them nestled in the back of his head. For now and considering their company, clothes were acceptable, of course. He couldn’t fight off intruders or assassins in the nude comfortably. Astarion thought of how funny a sight that would be. Astarion tucked her head under his chin and could feel her breath even out as she fell into a deep slumber. Astarion also knew that although it was possible it could be a preference that they sleep together, she most likely wished he’d sleep with her to stave away the nightmares. Since the nightmares were confessed, Astarion had spent every night possible sharing a bed with her. The times he did not, she suffered, which led to guilt for the vampire. He thought it was comical to a degree that he was the being that held off the monsters in her world, when to most people, he was the monster.

Astarion wasn’t sure when but he fell into a peaceful light trance, listening for any movement in the dark and predators who would dare to hurt them. His sleeping habits were defined by years of torture and training. Thankfully, nothing happened that night that drew his attention, however once Astarion awoke there was a neatly tied parcel sitting on the floor near the front door. Astarion took a moment to slip out of bed and let Tav continue to sleep as he investigated. It was still too early for anyone to be up. Astarion spied the curious item and noted the handwriting. It seemed strangely familiar.

Astarion read the note attached which only said that it was for both himself and Tav and congratulations on the wedding. Astarion was confused how the package even ended up in the room without startling him in the first place? Maybe he was too comfortable sleeping with Tav that he was losing his touch. Astarion opened the package slowly and pulled the string to undo the wrapping, worried it would trigger a trap. It finally revealed a book. Astarion was curious but as he went to lay a finger on the book, Astarion heard rummaging from the bed he left only minutes ago. He turned to look and saw a groggy Tav looking back at him. Astarion realized that he should have known that his absence would have been noticed. Astarion picked the book up and made his way back to Tav . Astarion sat down and explained in a hush the mysterious package and the note addressed to them both.

Tav sat up and watched as Astarion opened the book. When he paused, she looked up to see he looked like a ghost. Somehow the pale elf had grown paler and had stopped all movement. Tav waved her hand in front of his face to a bid to bring him back to the Sword Coast, but it seemed for naught. Tav poked and messed with him a bit but it seemed that Astarion was suck in his own world. Tav was concerned at this point. Worried, Tav did the one thing that would get his attention. She got up and as quiet as possible made her way to the side where she kept a spare dagger in her bag. She came back to the bed and saw Astarion tentatively turn the page to read the back but she couldn’t figure out what he was looking at. Was it a spell that was cast on him? Tav took the blade and was going to slash the palm of her hand but thought better of it. She heard of people ruining the muscle doing so and never picking up a sword again. Instead, she drew the blade against her skin for a shallow cut on her left forearm. Thankfully, the blade was sharp so it didn’t really hurt, at least not compared to when Astarion feeds off her. The cut was shallow but bled excessively.

It took seconds for the vampire to snap out of whatever trance he was in and look at her and then down at her bleeding arm. He scowled first before giving in and taking the arm she held up to his lips. Astarion drank of her but shortly after pulled back and cleaned the wound. He gave her a minor health potion he stocked up on since the incident almost two months back to help seal the wound from his pack he had stashed on the side of the bed. Astarion turned to chastise her for doing something so stupid as luring and teasing a vampire with such a delectable offering, but Tav kissed him before he could utter a word. Dumbfounded, Astarion held his tongue a moment while Tav spoke.

“I was worried. You were so absorbed in whatever that book was that I wasn’t sure what was going on. I was scared, to be honest.” Tav honestly mentioned.

Astarion looked towards the book he had on the bed that was temporarily discarded in favor of blood a moment ago and then towards Tav. He reached for the book and held it out to Tav to see for herself. Tav opened the closed book and read the text that was written on the loose piece of paper. It mentioned congratulations and that although they couldn’t be there for his wedding day, Astarion was still their ‘brother’. Tav could tell this gift came from one of Astarion’s vampiric siblings, but why? Tav continued to read the note. It mentioned that they ‘knew’, but it didn’t say what they knew and that they had just the thing to help him.

Honestly, the letter made no sense to Tav and it raised more questions than answers. It was then that she noticed that the book was actually two books. One was rather small, so it kind of stuck to the back of the other.

Astarion was perplexed how any of his vampire brethren could sneak into his room without his notice or awaking. It concerned him greatly and that was what occupied his thoughts and made him zone out. He was really losing his touch and he couldn’t afford to let that happen! On the bright side, it seems he was right that his brethren were no threat to them or else they could have easily done something to them in the middle of the night while they were incapacitated. Astarion wasn’t sure how long that would last or how long that status quo would be in his favor.  

They both looked as Tav examined the books before them. One was a baby book for expecting parents and the other was a book of firsts. A book where you would record everything the baby does from their birth on so you would have memories and they could look back on. Astarion’s breath caught in his chest. They knew. They fucking knew! He knew it would be a matter of time, but there was no reason they should know right now. To a vampire, the change had started to become apparent in her blood because of her hormones. You could tell by smell or taste which is why it became such a struggle for Astarion to deny himself her sweet, sweet blood. What perplexed him was how they could find out. She wasn’t wounded near them, and the change was recent. So recent, in fact, that it only happened days ago. Astarion was feeling very uncomfortable with their living situation but there was no other place to go. Not till they dealt with the final battle. He wasn’t going to force her to rough it camping outside again when they would still have to remain in the city, anyways. The other places to lodge weren’t as nice, and were full because of the refuge crisis. Astarion was getting a headache. He knew that after everything was said and done, he was getting as far away from this cursed city as soon as possible. He died here, Cazador was here albeit dead, his house which stood as a living testament of the vampire overlooked the city, his brethren knew where to find him and so much more. Was it easy to feed in the city? Of course, but it would be just as easy in any other city. Assuming Tav was okay with this idea. He would have to broach the subject a little later after they figure out the current problem before them.

Tav was confused as well, and Astarion was quick to fill in the gaps with the blood and the scent/taste. It explained a few things to Tav and gave her some ideas for the weekend, but other than that, Tav was also confused how they knew about the baby. Tav told Astarion not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he had concerns. In the end, Astarion and his bride tucked back into bed to whisper about it without waking the others, the books placed next to his backpack on the edge of the bed.

They spoke in hushed tones about possible scenarios and possibilities on how the vampire spawn figured out her condition and his involvement in her pregnancy. How did they know he agreed to be the father? They spoke about contingency plans in case they came after her or the child. Astarion knew full well that because of their adventure he was a lot stronger than before, and was not afraid for his own life. He also knew Tav could defend herself easily, in fact, she was stronger than he was in certain regards, but her condition did have some drawbacks. As the time neared towards birth, she would not be able to defend herself like normal, her inflated belly would get in the way and the cargo within could easily be forfeit if she was hurt too much. Astarion knew that after the events at Baldur’s Gate were satisfied one way or another, assuming they lived from the harrowing quest, that he would have to be her protector for a brief snippet of time. He found this oddly humorous, as Tav had promised after Cazador to be his protector. Astarion, at the time, mentioned not wanting to rely on her, but he appreciated the gesture all the same.

Astarion held on to her snugly, smelling the sweet smell of lavender in her hair from her earlier bath. Astarion noticed the others starting to wake and figured that, with the new information, they needed some changes to the wedding plans. Astarion kissed Tav’s forehead and murmured in her ear.

“If I ask and he agrees, how would you feel about having Wyll as security for our wedding? Just in case, of course”

Tav looked up at him and although she wished it didn’t come to this, she knew they may need someone to ensure everything went according to plan. She also knew their friends would be more than willing to help.

Once everyone was awake and alert, the others were apprised of the situation and Wyll enthusiastically agreed to be security for their wedding that afternoon. It made Tav feel guilty, but Wyll reminded her that he wanted to do this and that it was her special day. Tav tried to remain optimistic. In a few hours she would be Mrs. Ancunin, and she will have great time with her friends before retiring for the night with her new husband. A man who will fulfill her every need and desire with the chiseled body of a god. She smiled to herself. How was she this lucky? Sure, he had baggage and a shit ton of trauma, but then again, after everything they’ve been through, there was no way they would come out of this unscathed, and with his history, he had every right.  What mattered is that they loved each other and that was something that she didn’t doubt. Not after everything they had been through.

Astarion jarred her back to reality when he ushered her back to their private room none too gently but not enough to hurt either.

“What’s wrong?” Tav asked as Astarion looked worried,

“I need to leave for a bit. I need to eat, but I’m worried about…  I mean…”

Tav knew what he meant. He was worried about the other vampires.

“Are you worried about yourself? I mean you are a lot stronger than they ever…”

“No!” Astarion interrupted. “I’m concerned about you and the baby. If anything happened to you…” Astarion drew his forefinger to her cheek, gently running it across her cheek bone before leaning in to touch her lips with his at the briefest of moments in a chaste kiss before pulling back. It was if he reminded himself and threw on his usual facade, the mask he wore with others.

“You know I can die in childbirth right? You don’t have to be afraid. We have friends and can defend ourselves!” Tav rebutted. Astarion still was not satisfied because of her first statement. She could die in childbirth. It was a harsh truth that he was told back when she was initially examined but he didn’t want to believe it. He still didn’t. She was too strong, too precious to die in such a way. Astarion shook his head. This was something he would figure out if it happened. He refused to acknowledge that this was a possibility for her. He loved her too damn much, and today he was going to bond with her for life. No one was going to stop that. Astarion snarled at that thought, making Tav a little concerned.

Tav brought her hands up to his face and turned his face to look at her.

“Hey, Astarion?”

Astarion took a moment but left his own thoughts. He returned to her and without warning and without pause he scooped the woman up in his arms, his arms holding her up by her luscious ass. He sat down on the bed and claimed her lips. Tav had no problem reciprocating, but was more than a little confused. She suspected he was emotionally in turmoil and was acting out in a manner he knew best. It was like autopilot for him, a dance he was a master at. A distraction for him from whatever hurts him. Tav suspected he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Tav could tell something was distressing the vampire. Tav pulled back and slid off of him, the absence bringing Astarion back to the real world fairly easily.

“Wh…what?” Astarion questioned.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong?” Tav pleaded.

Astarion frowned “I…I’m afraid of the day I will lose you. Which is completely unrealistic considering we are facing death each and every day on this adventure. It’s stupid, to be frank. I need to trust you. Believe in you like you believed in me. I don’t mean to worry you, my dear.”

Tav gave a sad frown. “It’s understandable to worry. Hells, we literally crossed a devil, fought a dead dragon, and defeated two of the three chosen…and that was in the recent past! Most adventures don’t put you in such situations.” Tav sat down on his lap again, looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “You’ll never truly lose me though. Even if something happens…which I doubt.”

Astarion gave a small smile and kissed her back. There was a knock at the door and Tav got off of her soon to be husband apprehensively. Behind the door was Minsc, which surprised the couple!

“I was told to inform you two love birds that we need to get ready for your ceremony!”

Tav smiled and turned back to Astarion “I’ll see you later!” and turned to leave. Astarion stood up and grabbed her wrist before she left and yanked her back. Stumbling backwards, Tav landed against his chest. Astarion grasped her and helped stabilize her before turning her to look at her and hugging her tightly.

“Be safe.” Astarion whispered to her ear and released her.

Tav smiled to herself and muttered back for his ears only “I will.”

With that, Tav had left and Astarion closed the door on Minsc who wanted to help him. Astarion felt that if he needed help talking to a hamster, he would talk to him, but getting dressed? That was simple enough. First thing was first, he needed something to eat. Astarion knew it would take some time for her to get ready and he knew what time the wedding was to start so he snuck out of the tavern and went back to Rivington. There, he was able to find a few animals, a boar, and some squirrels. This was enough to satisfy him for now. Astarion snuck back in and quickly washed himself down to remove the blood and dirt from his skin. Astarion went to his dresser and even if the secret in the wardrobe was tempting to peek at, he didn’t. He figured he would let her keep her secrets and see what this weekend would bring.

Astarion looked at what Tav had bought him for his formal wear, grateful that she thought about his needs and bought him his outfit and considered his tastes. Astarion looked at the elegant red and black smooth attire before him and approved of the choice.It was a simple top but it was his tastes. It didn’t have unnecessary frills but it had a nice pattern in red against the dark background. The tunic had laces in the front that served only for decoration, it didn’t have any functional form. Astarion put the tunic on and the nice black slacks in the drawer that Tav had left him. There was a nice pair of shoes to accompany the outfit. His fiance really thought of everything! Astarion smirked. He was really lucky to have found her. Astarion put the full outfit on and wished he could look at himself in a mirror. He was sure he looked amazing as his fiance had great taste.

Astarion left the room and looked around and found Wyll. Wyll and the other men looked well dressed (though not as well dressed as himself) and they made their way to the venue, knowing that the women would come by a little later. He was aware of the superstition of seeing his bride before the wedding in the wedding dress and chuckled at it. He found it silly.

Astarion waited near the dragonborn officiating the ceremony and took in the view a short time later. The sun was high in the sky and he saw the open area with lush green grass and a variety of flowers. He made comments of displeasure in this particular place previously, but he had to admit the charm it could possess to some. What Astarion approved of the most was the fact that he was under the baking sun and feeling the rays of warmth heat up his cold skin.

Before he knew it, music was playing and he turned his attention to the entrance of the garden. Before him was a vision of a goddess. She wore a flowing black and red gown to compliment his own attire that seemed to glide as she walked down the aisle. The dress had a lower cut as the top of her breasts were visible and had slight lace and intricate string bondings. The lace and string enhanced her chest and collarbone which drew the vampire’s attention and made him inadvertently salivate at the thought of having her throat under his fangs. Her sweet and addictive blood was divine. Astarion watched as she made her way beside him and he looked on to see their traveling companions all watching them with care. Karlach looked exceptionally proud while Lae’zel looked bored, yet they all watched them and their union.

Astarion watched as Tav winked at him as the dragonborn began to the proceedings and started to speak about their commitments until death. It kept reminding Astarion about how fleeting mortality could be for Tav. Although he was slightly dejected, he wouldn’t show it. He wouldn’t allow it to get in the way during their ceremony and precious day. Jorath, the dragonborn officiating the union then motioned for them to speak their vows to each other. Internally Astarion cursed. He knew he forgot something! He was told about this from Tav some time ago but never got around to writing it. Being an ex-magistrate, he could wing this though. Astarion was nothing, if not able to entertain. Tav spoke first which thankfully afforded Astarion a few precious moments to compose himself.

Tav looked at him fondly. “When I met you, I didn’t know that I would care for you this deeply. I just thought you needed to be outside a bit more.” She chuckled. “But, as I grew to understand you, I also grew to care about you like no other. I found myself in love before I knew it. We’ve been through monster hunters to asshole Drow. We’ve gone through ridding yourself of the chains of your past, and now, we can start to explore what that means with your future…together. There is so much more I could speak of, but we don’t have all day.” Tav joked to the chuckles of the crowd

Astarion was happy she didn’t speak of more things as he held information close to his chest but he knew her and trusted her. He knew she wouldn’t say anything too revealing, who knew if shape changers were still about, for example.

Tav continued. “But I do want to say this. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter what may come in the future and what obstacles we face. I am yours.”

Astarion held his breath a moment at this admission and felt something possessive inside take over. He wanted to squirrel her away from others, but he resisted, not now. He would have the rest of her life with him, now was not the time for possessiveness or jealousy. It was then that he realized that all eyes were on him and it was his turn.

Astarion put on his usual facade and began to speak in seriousness. He would not ruin this special day on Tav.

“Ever since I met you, you’ve treated me with kindness, care, and dignity, even though I didn’t always afford you the same. In the beginning, I saw you as a means to the end, but as our party traveled and I got to know you…as we got to know each other more, I started to realize how special you really are.” Astarion longed to touched her at this moment in a tender form of appreciation but he kept his hands by his side as he gave a salacious smile that only she could see instead. Her smile widened as she tried to stifle her giggle but it was partly unsuccessful. The audience was unaware as to what she found humorous. Astarion grinned but continued where he left off. “For someone like me…with what you know, you gave me a priceless gift that I can never repay. I have been seen by you and heard. I can say for the first time I am safe and that is because of you. You have unmatched beauty, a radiant soul that threatens to scorch all in its path and a personality that enraptures all. You are the most precious person to me and I will do anything to protect and keep you safe. I love you, and would be honored to have you by my side for as long as possible, until death comes knocking.” Astarion purposely worded the end of his vows the way he did because he was still hopeful that Tav would choose to live with him for all time, but there still stood the chance of they could meet their death before then considering their mission. Tav beamed at him after his words while Astarion felt slightly embarrassed. Jorath looked down at Astarion and asked for the rings which got Astarion out of his embarrassment pretty fast when he remembered his surprise. Astarion smiled broadly, much to the unease and fear of the audience, aka his friends who knew this to be an unknown sight. They worried what was about to happen as Astarion whistled and all heads turned to look at the beginning of the aisle. There was the owlbear cub (affectionately known to Tav and the group as Fluff) and Scratch walking at a nice pace side by side down the aisle. Tav couldn’t help but full on laugh at the sight as Scratch and the owlbear cub were both wearing some sort of attire which made them look adorable. Scratch had on a mini tux on the front of his body and Tav was unsure how he was dressed or where they found such an outfit, while the owlbear cub had a bow tie and a hat tied on. They looked both hilarious and very cute. When the pair of friends made it to the front, they both held on to a box in their mouths that contained a ring. One for her and one for him. Tav broke in her stance to give plenty of attention and petting to the beautiful ring bearers, the owlbear cub seeming to enjoy the attention a bit more than Scratch who wanted to play. After retrieving the rings, Astarion sent them to sit with the others, but instead they found a nice mud pit on the side and they promptly went to play in it, away from the ceremony but close enough they could be kept an eye on. Tav shook her head but was still laughing when she turned her attention to Astarion. Jorath had instructed them to put the rings on. It was then that Astarion opened the box up for her ring.

Tav couldn’t see the ring right away once the box was opened, as Astarion’s hands obscured the view. Before putting it on her finger, he paused and spoke.

“You need to know a few things about this ring before you put it on.”

Tav was confused but smiled, she was sure she would understand and love whatever it was he was going to say. She knew him by now and he has been attentive and caring the entire time. Astarion continued when there was no objections.  Astarion held the ring out to her and she gasped. It was beyond beautiful.

It look elegant with a silver band, etching in the middle she couldn’t readily make out and the out side had a gem affix that looked like a moonlit night. It literally looked like a black gem holding a moon inside as it held a sliver of white. It was gorgeous, but knowing Astarion, there was more to it than being pretty.

“You know my past and what I was forced to do,” Astarion dare not explain deeper with outside ears and Jorath nearby “Well, to spare you the details…this was from that time. I went to pawn the ring but found out it’s true value was so much that I couldn’t simply pawn the item. No vendor would have enough. As I looked into the history of it, I found out it had more than that. The history involving something called Shadowweavers,” Astarion nervously chuckled. “It’s a curious tale I’ll tell you one day, but for now,” Astarion took a deep breath ”It also can render the user invisible for an hour. Anyway, What I am trying to say is that this ring has a few things to it you should know. By accepting this ring, you’re accepting my past as well as the future we have.”

“Tav leaned forward and since Astarion was standing to explain this situation at this point, she hugged him. Astarion was skeptical at first but hugged her back tightly. Once they separated, she held her finger out, but before she had the ring, he figured he should tell her about the few other changes he did.

“I also made a few modifications. There is an engraving on it for your eyes only.” Astarion whispered the last line. “It has an enchantment called Telepathic Bond on it which lets you have a mental link with up to eight people in range. I figured it would be useful once we lose the parasite and maybe for us to communicate privately. Both rings have it. Only your ring has the invisibility though. I…I hope this wasn’t overkill…”

Tav giggled. “Of course it isn’t! Just put it on my finger already so we can get to the kissing part.” Tav laughed and smiled. Astarion felt the tension erase and he smiled once more. He placed the ring slowly on her finger and she slid his on. It wasn’t long before Jorath called for the couple to kiss and that they were now, finally, man and wife.

They were married.

Finally!

Tav was surprisingly the aggressor in the kiss and used her hand to pull Astarion in close so she could claim his lips. Astarion thought it would be a chaste kiss and they would devour each other in private, but apparently Tav had other ideas. Astarion closed his eyes and leaned in but was surprised when Tav slipped her tongue against his. In his surprise he opened his mouth further for her to explore. Of course Astarion had kissed her many times before and just went with it. He wasn’t a fan of public displays like this. Of course a chaste kiss here or there was fine but deeply kissing each other in front of others was close to an invisible boundary for him. It was close but not over that boundary. It was also his wedding day. He would give her the world right now and if that meant sharing a form of intimacy in front of others then they were getting a showing…

Astarion brought his hands up, one on the back of her head and the other above the rise of her backside on her lower back but not touching anything indecent. Tav leaned in and almost moaned into him as she remembered where they were. Astarion smiled and took her in more deeply, he chased her tongue as he kissed her until he pulled back, Tav still leaning forward wanting more but Astarion leaned his forehead against hers as she panted for air.

“We’ll have plenty of time for that later, my dear. I have many things to teach you. Their ear plugs wont be enough, I have to fear.” Astarion teased.

Tav brought her hands up his hard cold chest, closed her eyes one moment and then commented.

“I love you so much.”

Although with the ring on, he could now tell that she was worried about something. As the party started to disburse to the Elfsong for the party, the newly married couple hung back and walked at the end of the troupe to speak.

“You know I can tell now when you’re worried about something,” Astarion questioned, concerned about what was bothering her. “It’s our wedding day, you should be the happiest woman alive.” Astarion chuckled considering he was in fact dead and just got hitched.

“It’s silly.” Tav tried to hide her concern as she started to walk briskly to the others but Astarion caught her around the middle and brought her back.

“If you can’t talk to me, then who can you speak to?” Astarion almost pleaded.

“Look, it’s…I feel really guilty.”

Astarion was dumbfounded for a moment. “What? Why?”

“Because of all the sex. That’s all I’ve been forcing you to do because I want it.” Tav dropped her head. Her confession barely more than a whisper. Thankfully, Astarion had heightened hearing. 

Astarion gave a small smile, looked around and saw a granite bench. He whisked her away to the bench and continued the conversation.

“Let me clear this up,” Astarion gently held Tav’s head up to meet his gaze as she previously was staring intently at the ground. “ Before fighting Cazador? Yes, I may have had an issue. Everything felt tainted to have any form of intimacy. But as time went on, as our bond strengthened, things changed. After we defeated Cazador, do you know what became different? When I took you to the graveyard, I wasn’t just declaring my love for you and intent. Nor did I even intend for a night of passion on my grave site,” Astarion laughed. “But I wanted…no, I needed to feel alive again. You see, I’ve been afraid and enslaved for so long I don’t even remember what it is like to be free and do what we are doing now, but I feel safe and free with you to learn, to try. Do I feel like I’m doing the same song and dance…a performance like before? Rarely, but even then you snap me out of it and your actions, words and support make things so different. Everything is new again. I don’t want to remain dead. I don’t want to stay scared or enslaved. I don’t feel tainted anymore. I feel like…I’m finding who I am again. Do you remember during our times of passion, do you remember me disassociating?”

Tav thought for a moment and shook her head ‘no’.

“Then I was okay with it. If there is ever a time I am not, I will tell you. I mentioned before about how key communication is with a relationship, remember? I want to make love to you. I want to show you with my body how much you mean to me. My body has been used and not my own for so long. Now that it is mine again, I decide how it is used and I want to use it with you. Let me make this clear, I want to fuck you senseless this weekend of my own accord.” Tav blushed but it didn’t last as Astarion leaned in for a kiss. She happily reciprocated, wishing they didnt have to attend a party and could be in the privacy of their room already, if anything so she could hide this wonderful soul from the world and snuggle with him as he battles his demons. She wished she could help him kill the demons in his past and his trauma like they could with Cazador, with a sharp knife or pointed stick, but unfortunately they could not. Tav would support him though through anything. She loved him, and nothing would change that.

“You sure? All those times. I didn’t force sex on you?” Tav still felt guilty considering how selfish she was acting knowing his past. She felt like she pressured him but Astarion was quick to shut this down and reply.

“Darling, I wanted you. Gods, I still want you. It’s impossible to get bored of all that.” Astarion made a crude motion with his hand to insinuate her body.

Tav laughed, feeling like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. Tav noticed Astarion was still with her in the present and wasn’t falling back into his old ways like when they first met, smiled and pushed Astarion back a bit with her hand on his chest so she could get up from the bench. She did so and the pair were able to make it to their party at the Elfsong.

Once they got there, they found the party in full swing and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves with a tankard in hand! Tav wished she could drink, but she couldn’t, and it made her a little dejected. Sensing this, Astarion retrieved some of his private stock of wine and gave her a very small glass.

“I can’t have this. The baby…” Tav mentioned in a quick whisper.

“It is perfectly safe to consume small amounts of wine once in a while when pregnant, my dear. I even got you a good vintage. Sadly, you can’t sample much, but you can join us, my love.” Astarion filled his glass with some of his private stock and went to the lengths to hide it very well so no one else could find it.

“How do you know this?”

“I’ve been checking up on this, my dear, since it has been frequently been coming up. You don’t have to believe me, of course, you can just as much drink water this afternoon instead.”

Tav looked at the contents in the glass and took a slight sip. The taste was sinful, and she loved it! Astarion smiled at the sight. Before long the couple enjoyed dancing with each other, something Astarion was not a fan of but did so to humor his wife.

Wow… Wife. He could call her his wife now. Astarion had a wide grin at this thought.

The party went on for hours as their party got noticeably drunk...well…all except Wyll, who took his role as security very seriously. Even when prompted to enjoy himself with the rest of them by Astarion and Tav, he refused. At least they had one person who wasn’t blackout drunk in case anything should happen. Lae’zel surprisingly could hold her liquor too or maybe it had something to do with her race, Astarion wasn’t sure. The couple stayed sober though, mostly because Tav could barely drink and Astarion wanted to be sober for tonight’s tantalizing events. He had an idea what he wanted to do to Tav first, he could see her fidgeting in her seat at times just waiting for later. Thanks to the rings, he could tell she was yearning for his touch. He planned to give her that and more. Astarion smiled, maybe he could mess with his new wife though and send her some of ideas he had in store for her. He barely scratched the surface in his thoughts, merely thinking of a few different positions when he noticed the blush overtake her cheeks and her legs clench together. Astarion smirked and noted the time was near nine in the night. It was late enough that they could retire and a good excuse to give his new wife the relief she deserves.

Astarion stood up from his chair and went to Tav’s chair, there he reached out and gracefully took her hand, signaling her to come with him. Tav smiled and stood up, Astarion could smell her desire. How long was she wanting him? Astarion grinned, that was okay, because for the next three days he would make sure to attend every need she could have and then some. As Astarion walked toward the stairs, he sought out Wyll and informed him that they were retiring for the night, and at that point, only to contact them for emergencies. Wyll congratulated them once again, and Astarion turned, picked up Tav who was surprised, and carried her to their room.

Astarion put her down nicely on their bed when they made it upstairs, turned, and locked the door.

NOTE: The next few chapters are smut heavy due to the honeymoon segment