#astarion feels so fucking much now that he's free

[mirabai0821]

Just thinking about Tavalstarion and how Astarion agrees to the whole ordeal thinking "There is no way this is gonna work. There is no way I'm going to fit in with this, the idea is too good to be true." And then...it works?? And he doesn't know what to do with these emotions becuase he is so happy and it is so foreign so he goes to Halsin and just emotionally vomits on him.

"I love that stupid, little creature more than I feel my heart is capable of bearing and I don’t know what to do with that. Do I even make sense?" Halsin nods like "Love'll do that to ya."

But Astarion doesn't understand how the older elf isn't also burning alive right now with fury and love. Like "No you do not understand?!"

“I can hardly look at her and not feel a great painful wrenching agony,” He thumps his chest where a heart should beat. “I didn’t think all this was going to work you know.” He waves a hand in the air formlessly. “This grand experiment of hers. Looking at her with you, seeing her smile with you, I expected to feel an insurmountable jealousy. ‘I want that smile, give it to me.’ But I can only think, ‘Is that what she looks like when she looks at me too? How have I, wretched creature, been so blessed?’” Halsin just nods sagely, doing his best to remember that this elven thing died when he was thirty-fucking-nine, an INFANT. This poor arrested-ass developed ass fucking CHILD. He'd dig up Cazador to kill him again if they didn't throw his body in the Chionthar to wander unrotting until the end of time. (Halsin, having taken a moment to himself, is high as shit and is therefore unprepared to deal with this properly.) "How do you deal with this? Death from pleasure, I can understand. Death from pain, also an intimate feeling but death from love? What in the absolute unnatural fuck?" Halsin offers him his pipe, unable to really do much else.

"Here, sit down, and smoke this."

[neckromantics]

You find that now Astarion’s able to feed regularly on “quality” blood, the stronger he becomes, and with that strength comes certain abilities he didn’t know he could possess.

In 5e, vampire spawn are supposed to be pretty strong and fast. (As well as possessing regenerative powers, and spider climb among a few other things.) So, what if Astarion’s lack of super strength and other such things is due to the way he was kept weakened under Cazador’s control?

Like maybe he’s recently fed and he feels especially great this time. Neither of you really think much of it. (You’re just happy he feels good. Happy to see the flush of pink at the tips of his ears and apples of his cheeks.) Maybe you’re in the middle of a fight and you get careless. You hear the swish of a blade at your back, but never feel an impact. You turn to see that Astarion’s saved your ass the only way vampire instinct knew how in that moment, which was to just reach out and grab your attacker’s sword before it could spill any of your precious blood. By the blade.

If he wasn’t wearing those special armored gloves you’d found a few days before he’d probably have lost a few fingers. The steel bends back in his grip as if it’s made of rubber, and there’s a very comical split second where your heads snap toward one another to share matching looks of “what the fuck??” Before the fighting continues.

MAYBE one day you watch the guy get stabbed. Like, impaled in a way that should have meant Withers is about to be dragged out here by his dusty ass robes to perform some quick resurrecting or else. It takes longer than you’d like to get free enough to make a break for him, but when you do you nearly knock poor Shadowheart on her ass in your hurry to pass. Every millisecond feels like an hour. Your heart pounds in your ears so loudly that you can’t hear the scream of the creature before him as you take it down with a single blow.

In hindsight, you must have looked ridiculous. Overdramatic, even, considering you don’t have time to fuss over him as he lie bleeding like you assumed he would be. Your hands tremble in front of you as you watch him stand up from his crouched position. His pretty face is screwed up in a way that you first assumed meant great pain, but now you realize he’s just ? Surprised? Well, that makes two of you at least.

Astarion’s leather armor hits the dirt with a dull thud. With pursed lips and a bit of a hum, he’s lifting up the hem of his bloodied tunic. Pale fingers swipe thick crimson away from his belly to reveal the soft, unmarred skin that lay beneath. You nearly faint right then and there, and that asshole just laughs. Positively elated.

After a moment, a long moment, you start to laugh alongside him. It’s shaky with relief. Disbelief.

He plants a quick, cheeky kiss to the side of your head for your heroic efforts, anyway. You just learn to roll with it.

Maybe one day you walk into your room at the Elfsong, and nearly jump out of your skin when you find him sitting cross-legged on the ceiling. Just full on chilling, looking pleased as punch to have found something else he didn’t know was possible for him. You obviously just stand there and stare at him like ??? for a while. It’s endearing how happy he looks with that smug little smirk, pale curls wild and clothes sitting odd on his frame from the change in gravity.

When you ask, all he can really say is that it just kind of happened? That he very suddenly felt like being up, and logically that meant he should try crawling up the wall to satisfy that craving. He’d been up there for a couple hours before you showed up- even took a little bit of a rest to pass the time. You wish you were there to see his face when he found out- to hear the mad little giggles that spilled from his lips when he stood up from his scuttling and just hung upside down in disbelief because why in the hells didn’t he find out about this one sooner?

(Maybe if you ask nicely, he’ll bring you up there with him on his back just so you can see how strange everything looks from high up on the ceiling. Maybe you’ll use it as an opportunity to scare the ((figurative)) pants off of Gale when he eventually comes looking for you. Endless entertainment.)

Anyway, you feed the guy regular enough and I imagine there is so much to discover about him that the two of you will be entertained for years to come. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll wake up to a fluffy white bat flying circles around the ceiling of your bedroom, and at that point it won’t even be a real surprise to you.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion teaching Tav embroidery/sewing. Preferably with him dragging them onto his lap for a close-up demonstration.

Why do I make everything so long? Do I have a problem? There is always so much introspective nonsense idk man. Anyway adorable idea actualized below!

Also mentions of sex but this is totally sfw. I went with the timeline of when your sleeping together but he hasn't quite admitted his feelings to himself, as a side!

~

Astarion had no idea how he became your camp's designated seamstress. How was it possible that a team of eight adults were all incapable of knowing the basics of such a fundamental skill?

Then again, Karlach seemed to be perfectly fine with wearing her clothes to tatters. Wyll was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Lae'zel, for some gods forsaken reason, was only capable of fixing up heavy armor. Gale seemed to prefer eating magical clothing items versus being able to salvage them and the rest were mediocre at best.

The look of confusion on Shadowheart's, who was the second most skilled by far, face when Astarion tried to explain a ladder stitch was enough for him to give up entirely. It was quicker to fix the tears then to explain simple concepts to simpletons.

Brats. All of you. With one who was significantly more brazen than the rest when it came to using Astarion as their personal tailor.

Tav, the lovely thorn in his side. Who could handle wielding a glaive with startingly accuracy, but somehow managed to consistently stab themselves every time they picked up a sewing needle. It was impressive, how useless someone who was otherwise extremely competent could be.

Impressive as it was frustrating. Because somehow you managed to destroy your clothes more often than anyone else. Always bashfully handing him over torn trousers and ripped shirts every other night. Anyone else he would have told to fuck off by now. Even the rest of the camp knew better than to test their luck with anything more than once a fortnight. But you lacked the very basic level of self-control.

It was his own fault for giving you special treatment in the first place. But sleeping together did warrant a few extra benefits. He got your protection and you got to experience the pleasure of being with him. Simple. Or it would have been if you didn't insist on making things complicated.

Because Astarion was starting to feel things. Things that he hadn't anticipated. Because your company was... oddly pleasant. You were an interesting little thing, he had to give you that. Well-read and talkative, but not boringly so. No, Astarion sometimes found himself losing track of time when he was with you. A simple question could easily turn into a two-hour conversation about the silliest things. It was... nice. New. And oh so different from what he was used to.

Cazador didn't even allow him or his brethren to speak in his home, let alone speak to each other unless it was strictly necessary. But here he was free to do whatever he pleased. And he was finding that included being near you, despite how differently you both saw the world.

He couldn't quite blame you for your delusional optimistic views. As a Tymora worshipper you were basically doomed from the start to believe inane concepts like good fortune, luck, and gods, the good that could be found in "anyone".

You were as sweet as you were aggravating and Astarion truly, honestly, had no idea how your insane trusting nature hadn't managed to get you killed yet. But then again he... kind of liked that about you. He liked that you trusted him. It made his life more convienet and... it was nice to be seen as a person worth confiding in. Instead of the blood-sucking monster he really was.

He... liked that. He liked you. A fact that he didn't enjoy thinking about. He didn't really know what to do with it, and the implications of where his feelings could lead were starting to become unsettling. So he pushed it out of his mind. It was an easy thing to do when doom was always looming in the background. He had plenty of things to think about that didn't include his fondness for you.

Like the inner-rage you caused when you managed to somehow rip the same shirt twice in one day.

"That's it," Astarion announced when you bashfully asked for his help yet again, "Come here. I'm teaching you how to sew."

"But you always get mad when you try," You whined. But despite the hesitancy you still obediently sat next to him as he got out the sewing kit, "Do you promise not to snap this time?"

"That depends," Astarion said with a roll of the eyes, "Do you intend on not maiming yourself with a sewing needle?"

Astarion smirked at the way that made a blush crawl up your neck, "That was one time!"

"Actually darling it was closer to seven," Astarion corrected as he snatched the shirt from your hands, "Now pay attention. Look at where the tear starts. Notice how it's on the seam?"

You nodded along as Astarion explained the basics to you. He could tell that you were trying your damndest to pay attention, but when it was your turn to hold the needle your hands couldn't stop shaking. Astarion frowned as he tried to watch you work, his view obfuscated by the angle and the flow of your hair.

Well that wouldn't do.

Before he could think better of it he was hauling you into his lap, ignoring your surprised squeak as he situated you just right.

That was better. At least now he could see what you were doing. It was a sloppy stich, sloppy enough for him to undo it before putting the needle back in your hand.

"Now do it again," Astarion ordered, "Let me see what your doing wrong."

Astarion watched as you tried again, frowning when he realized your shaking was even worse than before. In fact, you seemed more nervous than ever, your face red as you kept your eyes down.

It made Astarion torn between watching your hands and looking at your face. You really were adorable, getting all worked up from simply being in his lap, all while trying to stay dutifully undistracted. He could almost hear your heart racing, obvious through the tension coursing through you.

Silly little thing, acting all shy like he hadn't already literally been inside of you. But at least you were doing better, your stitching straighter than Astarion had ever seen it. Maybe he'd have to make the lap-sitting mandatory from now on, for the good of your learning.

"See," Astarion said softly, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned in closer, "You're perfectly capable of learning this."

"So it looks good?" You asked, taking a chance to glance at him. Astarion hadn't realized just how close the two of you really were. He had never... seen you like this before. So closely. Even when you slept together, he had been a bit distracted by other parts of your body. He never noticed just how many light freckles were hiding across the bridge of your nose, how your eyes looked almost golden in candlelight. You smelled nice too, sweet. Like you had been rolling around in a field of lilies. Considering your personality, Astarion had to wonder if that's exactly what you did.

It would take almost nothing to press your lips together. Barely a turn on the head.

"Astarion, are you listening?"

The sound of his voice snapped him out of his revelry. He straightened, clearing his throat as he looked over your work again, embarrassed in a way that he couldn't quite describe.

Maybe you weren't the only one being affected after all.

"It looks better," Astarion said honestly, "But still needs work. You'll almost certainly be needing more lessons."

Preferably like this. Astarion wasn't quite ready to let you go yet, not when you felt so pleasantly warm in his lap. But luckily enough for him, you didn't seem quite so keen to leave.

Astarion tightened his hold on you laughing at the way it made you gasp, "But that's enough for today. I think you've earned a reward. Don't you?"

"I-yes?" You said back, your eyes flitting from Astarion's mouth and back, "Please?"

You really were too precious. How could he possibly say no to that?

Astarion grinned as he tilted your chin up, finally pressing your lips together. It was an odd feeling, kissing someone when he couldn't stop smiling, but he supposed you just had that effect on him.

Maybe being the camp seamstress wasn't so bad after all.

[nyx-express]

Pink.

Info: This is part of a drabble series I'm starting, about colours and their associations with emotions. This one's happier and hornier then the last one, yay.

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav (unnamed)

Summary: Their first time post endgame, when they had decided to take it slow for Astarion's sake.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral, fingering, a bit of dirty talk, PiV, some happy tears and blood (only a drop). It's porn with a tiny bit of plot and LOTS of feelings. This isn't kinky at all, they're not fucking, they're making love. It's romantic, it's vanilla, it's what we all deserve every once in a while.

Word count: 4k

Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav/reader - Pink [associations: love and romance, peace & nurture, warmth & euphoria]

It was a quiet, clear night, dim lights dancing around the crackling wood in the fireplace in Tav and Astarion’s bed chamber inside the Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. After defeating the Brain, Wyll had taken over as Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate, offering guest rooms to anyone in the party who wished to stay in the city. Indefinitely if necessary, he had said, which was a relief since the two hadn’t yet decided when or where to join the army of spawns in the Underdark that had been unleashed after Cazador’s defeat. Seven weeks had passed since they’d saved the city. And they had gone over quickly, as everyone was still either recovering or helping to rebuild all that’s been broken under the Abolute’s attempt for tyranny. 

Astarion lay in their mahogany bed, reading something he believed only Gale would truly enjoy - some Netherese crap about the Weave and whatnot. He could get used to this though; residing like royalty in a castle and being treated as one of the city's heroes. The guest rooms were clearly built to accommodate noblemen, furnished with care and a certain touch of arrogance, much to his liking. Glancing up from his book, his view followed his lover when she made her way across the room, dressed in a dark nightgown and her hair damp. Putting the dusty tome aside, he stretched out an arm to grab her attention and said, “Come here, my love?”

She answered with a smile, taking his hand and sat down next to him. “Missing me already?”

“Terribly,” he jested, fingertips brushing across her knuckles. “The nerve of you leaving me alone here in Ravengard’s chamber of horrors.”

“This chamber of horrors just provided me with yet another free bath, for your information,” she replied, holding his gaze. “Are you hungry? You haven’t fed in a while.”

“Positively ravenous,” he said, fangs poking out of his sly grin as he pulled her into bed. 

“I see.” She held back a laugh. So that’s where the dramatics came from.

Holding her close, Astarion’s head went where it belonged, to the crook of her neck, his favourite spot, where he could smell her blood flowing even through her skin. But there was something else, a new scent drifting to him from her hair. Lavender? Hells, Wyrm’s Rock truly wasn’t half bad. Just as he inhaled again, she turned at an angle to offer her neck to him fully. He grinned to himself. Always so eager to please. 

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the icy caress Astarion would pull her in. His fangs pricking her skin only ever hurt for a mere moment before a pleasant coldness spread through her body, sucking the energy from her like a proper hike would. She didn’t mind the blood loss and was happy to provide him with what he had told her was the finest red he’d ever tasted. Any moment now, his fangs would penetrate and make way for him to feed on her. When his lips finally touched her though, his canines remained absent. A kiss, gentle and soft, was pressed to her neck. Then another. The sensation wasn’t unknown but still unexpected. Instead of turning cold, an immediate warmth spread from where his lips lingered, up to her cheeks and down, all the way to her core. The kisses kept coming, wandering up to her jaw, then back down towards her chest, his hands still holding tightly onto her waist. She released a sudden, hot breath, unsure of what this meant. 

Astarion and Tav hadn’t slept with each other since the party at the Druid’s Grove, having decided that it was for the best to take it slow. He had told her that he didn’t know what he wanted for himself in terms of sex, after two hundred years of having to lure in people for Cazador with his body. He only knew he wanted her, one way or another. And she had agreed, that he had to heal first, find himself and discover a worth unrelated to offering himself for other people’s pleasure. That he could be safe somewhere, with someone, without giving something in return. 

They still had been close since, held hands at any moment that allowed it, spent nights exchanging small kisses, or her favourite, holding his face while they talked and watching him look at her for what felt like hours.

But this, the way he planted kisses on her now, was completely different and reminded her of their night in the Grove. Though surprising, the affection wasn’t unwelcome. She’d lie if she said she hadn’t missed it. Her promise remained true, she would wait for him to be ready, no matter how long it took, even though her body longed so heavily for his touch from time to time. Still, she needed to be sure if she was reading the situation correctly.

“Astarion?” she asked, another gasp escaping her when he sucked on a tender spot, to which he immediately stopped.

His lips pulled away from her, a confident grin still on his face. "Yes, darling?" 

“Are you sure? If you want this, I mean.”

His hand went up to her neck, fingers placed behind her ear while his thumb traced her jawline. “Feeding from you? Oh, you know it’s my favourite pastime.” 

“Not the feeding. The kissing.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes retracted as if he was suddenly shy, roaming over the sheets next to them. “I didn’t mean to… I just felt like it. If you don’t want me to-”

“No, no,” she interrupted as she put her hand upon his. “I like it. I really do. I just want you to know that we don’t have to… go all the way through with it. We can stop at any time, alright?”

His eyes met hers again. “Darling, I tend to finish what I’ve started.” He neared her face with his, staring at her lips. “But thank you. For saying that.” 

Crashing his mouth against hers, he kissed her deeply, his hand on her neck pulling her even closer. His lips like velvet brushed against hers so smoothly, leaving hers agape. He let himself fall back onto the mattress, pulling her with him so she could straddle his hips. 

Astarion smiled as he looked up at her. “I missed this, you know.”

“So did I,” she replied, voice hardly above a whisper before closing the gap between them once more. The kiss was more tender, some kind of promise woven within as their tongues met, until she felt him getting hard beneath her. It was his turn to gasp now, followed by a chuckle when he felt her rolling her hips against him. 

“I can tell,” he mumbled between kisses, his fingers playing with the strap of her robe and quickly untying the knot. Falling open, the robe granted him a view of her figure, delicious and relaxed, that made it impossible to keep his hands to himself. He reached between the fabric, hands running up her sides, thumbs softly touching the plump skin on the underside of her breasts. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered into the night without fully realising it, before pulling her close again. A searing kiss with her fingers raking through his hair followed as the robe slipped from her shoulders, now only attached to her at the sleeves around her underarms. 

She pulled them off, tossed the gown to the side, and unbuttoned his shirt in return. Astarion watched her nimble fingers work and decided to help by pulling it over his head, soon to join her gown on the floor. With nothing but his trousers between them, she felt his erection grow harder and ground against him once more, marking his trousers with a trail of her wetness. 

“Now, now,” he cautioned. “Leave some for me to taste you, will you?” He sat up, pressed a kiss to her burning lips and proceeded to turn her over, so she was on her back. Hovering above her, his eyes darkened ever so slightly, a hungry grin plastered across his face before he made his way down to her core.

Just thinking about it made her head spin, how he would touch her there, savour the essence between her legs. Not tonight though, she thought as her hand found his hair, tugging lightly on it when he was halfway down. Astarion looked at her, a question hanging between them.

“As much as I’d love you to do that, I want this to be about you. I want to make you feel good,” she said, holding his chin gently between her fingers.

Astarion blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers as he studied her for a moment. “Oh.”

“Is that okay?” she asked and he seemed to think of what to say. What he wanted.

“I suppose it is, yes,” he then said, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards, showing off a dimple. 

She sat up, repressing a smile and took his hand in hers. “Lie down, love. Make yourself comfortable.”

When he did and had nestled himself between the frilly cushions, Tav straddled him again, took his face into her hands and kissed him. Astarion grabbed the outside of her thighs this time, sliding up to the curve of her hip and then back to cup the cheeks of her ass. She smiled into the kiss, letting him touch her however he wanted before she pulled her head back and made her way down his body. 

Both her hands were on his thighs now, starting at his knees and slowly stroking upwards. When she reached his groin he released a shaky breath, looking at her intently. She began to undo his trousers, so he pushed his hips up, helping her to get rid of the pesky garment once and for all. Turning back to him, her hands went straight to the tent that had formed beneath his briefs, touching him through the last layer of fabric. Astarion’s breathing turned shallower when she pulled them off him too, leaving him bare before her. With his erection freed, she took in the sight of him, making sure to etch the image into her memories forever.

“I’m afraid I can’t find the words to describe how perfect you look for me,” she told him as she reached for his dick. Pumping it once, twice, and still watching him react to her touches, she asked, “Does that feel good for you?”

He nodded, eyes half-lidded as if her movements had him entranced. “It does, yes. More than good.”

Her thumb brushed over his tip, spreading the bead of precum that had accumulated before she bent down. With a flattened tongue, she licked a stripe from bottom to top, looking Astarion in the eyes to see his lids close, brows knitted and mouth agape, sucking in a hiss of approval. Pleased with his reaction, she pumped him again, then wrapped her lips around him, softly at first, and swirled her tongue around the top. Working her way down, she tried to take more of him each time, stroking her hand down the part that didn’t fit. Her tongue flattened when she bobbed down and twirled around the tip when she came back up, sucking in her cheeks and leaving Astarion a panting mess. 

Somehow, with his eyes still closed, his hands found their way into her hair and proceeded to guide her up and down on him at the pace he desired. She felt herself getting wetter then, having achieved just what she wanted - to be there for him, to serve him and to make this special night all about him and his needs. Moans filled the air when he approached his climax and she almost smiled with his dick in her mouth, still led up and down by his hands. His voice was like music to her ears, she could tell how close he was by the way his fingers gripped her scalp and the twitch in his hips, so she brought her free hand around his balls, cradling them with light touches, silently inviting him to let go.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, his fingers twisting even tighter in her hair. “I, ah!” 

There it was, she thought, he was going to spill into her mouth any second. But then, right before he could, while cursing out a string of stressed moans, he pulled her off him. His chest was heaving, she realised, now that she could look at him again, a thin film of sweat spread across his forehead. “What’s wrong?”, she asked.

“Nothing, darling,” he said between deep breaths. “I just… It’s been a while, as you know, and I don’t want it to be over this quickly. I want this to last as long as I can possibly manage, which certainly will not be as long as I’d wish for it to be, judging by my current state. But there’s more I want to do with you. To you.”

He sat up and held her by the waist, meeting her with yet another kiss, tasting himself on her tongue as his erection pressed against her skin. Pushing her down by the shoulders, he made them switch positions, so he was on top again. 

“My turn,” he quipped, with a boyish smirk and began to kiss his way down her body. Hands on her chest, he squeezed her breasts tenderly, his mouth hovering over her left nipple.

“Wait,” she said, despite herself.

He stilled his movements, looking back at her. “Yes?”

"I wanted you to enjoy yourself fully tonight, you know," she began until his thumb circled her nipple, causing her eyes to shut close.

“Do I look like I’m not having fun?” he asked, resting his head down on her tit while he lazily massaged the other one.

“Oh, you do, believe me. But what I had in mind was more focused on you, not me. I’d rather please you than have you please me tonight.”

He chuckled to himself, eyes meeting hers again. “Darling, this is pleasing me. That’s exactly why I do it. For my pleasure. And yours of course. What I’m saying is, seeing you come undone by my hand, or tongue, or cock… is what I want most right now.”

She grinned and rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head with a laugh.

Astarion appeared serious in contrast, a pleading look on his features. “Please, let me do this.”

The laugh caught in her throat when she realised he truly meant it. He wanted to make her come for his pleasure. So she swallowed once and answered, “Okay then. Do as you wish.”

He let out a hum of approval as he began to suck on her nipple, his teeth scraping lightly across the surrounding skin. Tav’s breath hitched when he went for the other one, forcing her eyes to remain open. She needed to see every second of this.

He kissed a line down her stomach, his breath fanning into her navel when he settled between her legs. His expression was downright obscene as he kissed the tender skin on her inner thigh, eyes never leaving hers. His fangs had pricked the thin flesh, if intended or not, she didn’t know. A single droplet of blood gathered around the tiny wound, quickly wiped away by Astarion’s tongue. Another hum from him, his eyes flickering closed as he savoured the taste of her while his hands drew patterns and neared her core. 

She didn’t notice she was holding her breath when Astarion’s lips pressed a kiss to her pussy. 

“So wet, my darling,” he mused. “Just for me.” 

All she could do was nod between moans as he finally pressed his mouth against her and let his tongue dance over her clit. Her head snapped upwards, eyes on the ceiling above while he circled her, teased her and groaned deliciously into her skin. She pushed herself to look back down and watch him, his eyes already on her as he continued lapping and sucking at a torturous pace. Closing his eyes with what she interpreted as a grin, he brought a finger to her entrance, lightly pushing until it was inside of her. There was hardly any resistance, her body was so ready for him, welcoming all he had to give with ease. So he pushed and pulled a few times, then added a second finger while his tongue still worked its wonders on her. 

It felt like she was breathing fire, her lungs threatening to burst when he curled his fingers inside of her. Moans turned into screams and she instinctively threw her hands to his head, clutching his curls for dear life, pulling him even closer while this rogue bastard devoured her like a god. 

“I’m going to come,” she managed curtly, face already scrunched into a heavenly grimace. 

Astarion didn’t answer, focused on the task at hand and kept working her towards the finish line until everything inside her seemed to explode. Her entire body tensed, limbs convulsing as she screamed his name, surges of pleasure rippling through every muscle, every inch of her. Wave after mind-numbing wave crashed against her but he didn’t stop, didn’t break the contact between them and when she felt the orgasm begin to fade, Astarion sped up his movements, fingers and tongue ceaselessly striving to reach his goal a second time. He succeeded almost immediately. Just when she thought her breath would steady, when her twitching legs seemed to relax, another peak hit her, and this time it squeezed all the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t gasp or scream anymore, only endure as the glorious rush made her lose her mind. Tav pulled Astarion off her, gasping for air and fell back into the pillows, chest heaving with a dull smile on her face.

He towered over her, grinning wickedly at the state of her before wiping the back of his hand over his drenched mouth. “That was to your liking, I take it?”

She didn't answer, unable to find the strength yet, just waving her hand at him as she tried to come to her senses. Astarion laughed softly as he watched her chest move, the beads of sweat that had formed all over her body glistening in the light until she was capable of thinking again.

She got up in a daze, Astarion sitting upright on his knees in front of her, his hands resting on his lap, erection still visible. Tav crawled over to him, mirroring his position and kissed him at the same time as her fingers wrapped around his dick. He was still rock hard, breathing heavily into the kiss. “You nearly killed me, I’m afraid,” she whispered against the skin of his neck. “I’ll have to pay you back in kind.” His head fell back with a sigh as she pumped him faster, eager to give the man she loved so much the pleasure he had given her. 

She pulled his head back towards her, the need to watch him enjoy himself too strong. And he showed her everything, every twitch of an eyelid as she rolled her wrist around him, the way his mouth fell open when she squeezed him harder, or the deep line that formed between his eyebrows when he tensed. He moaned sharply and just when she thought he’d release, Astarion grabbed the hand that was working on him.

Tav stopped her movements, afraid she’d done something wrong or that he wasn’t ready, that it still might be too much for him. “Are you all right?”

He brought her hand towards his face and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Quite alright, my dear.”

“What’s the matter then?”

He eased her worries with a smile, pulling her closer by the waist. “I don’t want it to end like this tonight. I want something else. More.”

Anything, she’d do anything for him. “And what is it that you want?”

Shadows fell upon his eyelids as he bent his head down, still maintaining eye contact. “I want to fuck you.”

Her mouth fell open for a split second before she could nod. Too eager it seemed, as Astarion grinned at her reaction. “Lie down, darling.”

She followed his instructions and let him get on top before he pressed himself against her, supporting his weight with one arm. Another kiss, short and sweet, contradictory to the situation was placed on her lips as he lined himself up at her entrance. And when he pushed himself in, all the air seemed to leave her lungs once again. He did it slowly, watching her reactions closely, as he entered her inch by inch. They moaned in unison when he bottomed out, some wicked sense of relief, a feeling of wholeness, uniting them. He pulled back equally as slow, a need to prolong and savour this moment for as long as possible spreading in his chest. She reached for his face, holding onto each side delicately as he rocked back and forth, her mouth falling open when he hit a particular spot. 

“Do you want me to turn around for you?” she asked, her thumb caressing his earlobe.

“No,” he whispered. “I need to look at you right now.”

That somehow left her speechless and she returned to enjoying the feeling of him fucking her slowly as well as the sight he granted her with. He didn’t speed up his movements but ground into her harder after a while, unable to resist the temptation any longer, already panting from how turned on he was. His voice was quiet, barely audible to her, had she not paid such close attention. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He sang it like a poem with every snap of his hips against hers. 

“I love you too,” she replied, pressing her fingers tighter against his neck in confirmation.

“No, you don’t understand,” he sighed, still moving in and out. “I Iove you.” 

Something wet landed on her chest, a warm droplet of some sort. A single tear, she quickly realised, that had fallen from Astarion’s eyes. She wiped away its trace on his cheek and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. She’d hold him like this until the end of time if he needed her to, would tell him how much he meant to her for hours on end if he only asked. “I love you, too,” she replied with certainty until their lips met yet again. Her tongue found his and she could still taste herself on him, mixed with the salty flavour of another tear, which must have been hers. 

When they pulled back and looked at each other, Astarion was still fucking her at a leisurely pace. He exhaled a laugh and said, “Sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The crying and all.”

Tav smiled, wiping away her own tears. “It’s okay, I don’t mind a bit of sappiness every once in a while.”

“Enough of that, I say,” he answered and sped up his movements. She could feel him hitting even deeper now, more determined than before and as he turned her hips at an angle, she knew the coil in her belly was about to snap again. He held her feet to his chest, leaning over her like a magnificent predator as he thrust into her again and again. His other hand went to her clit, rubbing in quick circles, never slowing the rate at which he fucked her. 

Her vision blurred as the third orgasm hit her, eyes rolling back in her head as the pressure became unbearable and she could only scream his name. Astarion moaned at her convulsing around him, her pussy squeezing him even tighter in rhythmic throbs. He came with his head falling back, releasing his seed into her hot cunt with a few more hard thrusts. He fell on top of her then, muscles finally unwinding and his mind free of everything but her.

They stayed like that for a long while, sticky bodies pressed together, limbs tangled and Astarion’s dick still sheathed inside of her. There was no need to talk, they knew what the other one was thinking anyway, so they held each other until sleep pulled them from consciousness.

@bg3-fanfic-reblogs

[dark-and-kawaii]

‎‧₊˚✧[ Bred So Nicely ]✧˚₊‧

Summary: Giving his cock a few lazy strokes, Zevlor pressed the head back against your entrance, your pussy greedily swallowing it up. He could feel how his cock was pushing his seed he had just released inside your pussy even deeper into you... It was like he was a young hellrider again having sex for the first time!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ — Pairing: Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

‎⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ — Content: ‎NSFW - Breeding - Multiple Creampies - Stuffed To The Brim With Cum - Overflowing - Stretched So Good - Cervix Pounding - Your Body Gets Bullied Beautifully - Zevlor Saves A Horse Amd Rides You - Impregnation - Touch Of Angst Towards The End - Comfort - Age Gap

‎⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ — Notes: Are you horny and need a good lewd read? Look no further ♡ ♡ ♡

His cock thrust violently into you, his hips slamming down unlike anything you had ever experienced. His hands, once so soft, were now rough and calloused, gripping your own arms with bruising strength, as though he would never let go.

His mouth was open in a wordless moan, his teeth bared and clenched together, and his fiery orange eyes were half lidded.

An unbelievable amount of sperm spilled inside your womb, filling you to the point of bursting, before gushing out of your vagina and running down his still thrusting cock… Something he had only seen in his dreams, something he thought he could never have. But by the gods, you were real. Your body was underneath him, your womb accepting his seed, his love. Your voice crying out to him. You were here.

“Mmns’Zwevlor~ Y-you’re let-ting out s’much inside me~♡”

Of course he was, he had been so pent up for so long, his mind was a mess. It felt so good, the way your gummy walls clamped down on him, sucking him in deeper, and the way your cervix fluttered as if kissing the head of his cock, asking for more. He just couldn’t stop cumming, his balls emptying out his thick white cream inside of you over and over, your belly feeling full.

“Zeeeevlor~♡ I c-can feel you in my tummy~ ♡ It feels s-so good inside~~!♡ S-so full~ ♡ Mmn-! ♡ F-fill me even more, I want it all~!”

He couldn’t believe it, how his cock was still raring to go after dumping that much inside you. How his cock was still so needy…

Zevlor pulled himself free of you, watching as your walls clung to him, desperate for him to stay inside- watching how your body shuddered, your arms above you as if he was still pinning you down, your breasts heaving as you panted.

His tail kept you spread for him, giving him a good view of his cum dribbling freely from your well fucked cunt, his eyes drawn to the way your belly bulged slightly, your womb stuffed to the brim…

Giving his cock a few lazy strokes, Zevlor pressed the head back against your entrance, your pussy greedily swallowing it up. He could feel how his cock was pushing his seed he had just released inside your pussy even deeper into you... It was like he was a young hellrider again having sex for the first time!

He leaned over you, his hands gripping yours tightly as he buried his face into your shoulder, breathing heavily as his hips snapped forward, his balls slapping against your ass.

“P-please~ don’t n’ stop ~! Y-your cock!~ I-it makes my head spin~ ♡ Zevlor!”

You couldn't tell where your legs and arms were, nor could you see anything besides the man on top of you. It felt like the world was spinning and you were lost in the haze of pleasure this old man was giving you. The only feeling you could register was the cock inside you~

There was a voice- his voice yelling at him in the back of his head, about how he was a middle aged man in his fifties making a baby with a young thing like you. One he had just met days ago.

Hearing your cute cries, his erection wouldn’t let him stop. Not when you were moaning his name so sweetly, not when your arms were wrapping around his neck, holding him close, not when your legs were wrapping around his hips… The man Astarion had teased you about- the old wet rag of a hellrider, continued to pour his seed inside of you countless times.

And each time he could feel his cum slosh around inside you- his veiny ridged cock pushing his seed deeper and deeper into your fertile womb, doing that obsessively over and over again until he was sure one of his little swimmers found their mark.

He wanted to impregnate you, to become a father and leave behind descendants. Your young, far less aged body ripe and ready for conception… And your body seemed eager enough, hungry to swallow up his seed.

“Nghn~ Th-thrusting sh’ow deeeep~ ♡” your tongue lolled out as you felt him squish your legs against your chest, his cock threatening to push past the entrance to your womb- his whole body weight pressed to you.

His hand reached up, grabbing your jaw with a gentle touch, his eyes locked on yours. You couldn't look away, those orange orbs staring at you as if trying to devour you whole, “Ha’ah’ ha- Tell me, please- hha“ Zevlor panted, his hot breath seen due to the coolair within the groves cave, “before my courage ups and flees, tell me that you’re min-“

“I’m n’ mn’yours~♡!! Zev~ Zevlor~!!! I belong s’to yo-u~ ♡♡!!! ♡♡♡!!♡!!~!! I-ah~I'm c-cumming-!!! ♡ I-I'm cummmmmmmiiiing~!!!!!!!!!~ ♡♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ Ahhhh~~~ ♡♡ ♡♡♡ ♡♡♡!!! I’m going t-to hav-e a hell-sp-awns baby~♡Nnn’!!!”

You screamed as your mind blanked out, a violent orgasm ripping through your body, your toes curling, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Zevlor could feel your walls spasm and tighten, milking him dry as he filled your womb with another load. He bit into the crook of your neck as he came, a deep, primal growl vibrating through his body, his hand digging into your thigh as his other grabbed the back of your head and kept him pinned to you- emptying his balls deep inside your belly.

He could feel how his balls pulsed as he sent shot after shot of his hellish seed into you one final time… He watched as you gasped- as if you could clearly feel each hot gush of his seed entering your womb.

Zevlor was sure that was the last of it… His cock had already begun to soften, but his mind was still lost in a fog of lust.

Neither of you attempted to move, instead you both just stayed in the position, panting, covered in sweat and each others fluids. His hand stroked your head as your own hand rubbed the base of his horns- both of you exhausted and in bliss.

Your body was still a trembling mess, the aftershocks of pleasure making you see stars, unable to form a coherent thought. You couldn't see a thing, the world nothing but a blur as you gasped for air- the feel of his body the only thing that kept you grounded.

He was heavy and warm, enveloping you in a comforting warmth that made your body feel relaxed. And with his weight resting against you, you felt so safe and cozy. It was a wonderful feeling, but gradually his warmth began to fade, as he began to shift away from you.

Instinctively, you pulled him close, a needy whine coming from you as you wrapped your arms around him tighter, refusing to let him go… Your body holding onto him desperately. You didn’t want him to leave, didn’t want to go your separate ways come morning…

And neither did he.

You could feel how tears formed at the corners of your eyes, a sense of panic gripping you, “I- I don’t want to leaveyou…” you sobbed, burying your face into his chest, the salty liquid staining his skin, the words he was about to say stuck in his throat.

Afraid that any movement would only upset you more, he stayed where he was, his hands stroking the sides of your head. His soft cock still inside of you- and with each sob you took, you could feel his cum squelch around inside you…

Zevlor could smell his own scent clinging to you, a pleasant warmth filling his chest… He wanted to stay with you, wanted to settle down with a family, to be with you forever. And judging from the way you were clinging onto him, you wanted him just as badly…

He couldn’t tell you how his heart had almost broken when you sobbed out those words… How he wished he could join you in your travels, but he had his people to worry about… He needed to get them to Baldurs Gate… “My dear,-”

A sharp gasp left your lips as his soft cock slid out of you, a rush of cum spilling from your sore cunt, a deep blush staining your cheeks as you realized he could see-

Zevlor watched as his cum dripped out of you, his mouth open as he breathed heavily- a strange mixture of emotions running through him, “I will meet you in Baldurs Gate.” His fiery orbs met with your glossed ones, his hands wiping the tears away as he brought his face close to yours, his lips hovering over yours, the tips of his fangs brushing against the softness of your lips, “I’ll wait for you there- that’s if you’ll still have this old soul as yours when we meet again?” His tail was coiled around your leg, “But I need to see my people there safely. Please, don't cry, I can't bear seeing such a sad expression on you. Not after what we've done.”

The promise to be with him again was enough to quell the fear that had been building up in you, And you nodded, a shy smile on your lips, “Zevlor…”

The way you said his name, the way you were looking up at him- he couldn't help but think you looked beautiful. Your eyes, bright and hopeful, staring back at him.

With the promise that the two of you would meet again, his lips met yours, the kiss gentle and chaste, the tip of his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, silently asking permission, and which was granted- your lips parting, allowing him access.

You two had only just met days ago, but the feelings were there- strong and deep…

He was no longer an old, tired Hellrider, he was no longer some washed up man… Here in your embrace he felt young, like he had a second chance at love- a chance he thought he would never have.

[meanbossart]

I do love how Astarion, lovingly, tells DU Drow to stfu about his breeding kink lol

Astarion, for the first time in two hundred years can have sex the way he likes. Do you have any headcanons about him and DU Drow discovering what he actually likes?

(I'm pretty positive this was in reference to this, (un)fortunately my inbox is a little hard to keep up with so I must have missed this one at the time)

Kind of! I try not to overthink his internal processing of sex following everything that has happened, as I feel like that runs the risk of setting too clear a line between good and bad recovery and experimentation - y'know, that concept I have delved into a few times by now about how I assume he continues to do things that make him uncomfortable/that he doesn't necessarily wants to do, not to self-harm but simply because he doesn't want to be held back by by his experiences and (mostly) has the ability to deal with the emotional consequences of it, as long as it was a choice he made of his own free will.

Which is to say that I think Astarion was willing to try a lot of things with his partner. Especially after "vanilla" sex became normalized between them past the end of the campaign (as they weren't really fucking during it at all) and things like putting small fantasies of his own the table started to feel like a strange, but tempting excursion. This is a trigger for the both of them to be much more blatant about their desires with each other, especially once DU drow gets over his perception of Astarion as some kind of wounded bird who needs to be handled with kid gloves.

While Astarion doesn't strike me as someone who'd ever get into wizard sex inflation or whatever gimp parties the Loviatar people are throwing, I do think he likes it when sex is injected with a degree of weirdness, even awkwardness. Keeps him from the temptation of defaulting back to a script like he used to do - even if whatever they got up to wasn't particularly titillating, at least he was present all throughout it, which would be a priority. I think it will take decades for Astarion to figure out what he's actually into into.

In the meantime, he is very fond of his partner's body, his general behavior in bed and of taking his time, also a bit of an oral fixation. Unless purposefully leaving his comfort zone, Astarion prioritizes his own fun and enjoyment because he knows DU drow gets off on being the source of it. This is a very body-worshippy couple overall, but Astarion is the main perpetrator since it is an invigorating experience to not be in the role of the Desired after having his identity revolve around that very concept for so long. Naturally, DU drow lets him do whatever the hell he wants to him and doesn't even demand that he finishes, or that it escalates to actual sex at all. It works out well for them.

[pursuitseternal]

“You Make Me Want to Live:” BG3✨Astarion Anniversary fic

UA Astarion x f!Reader | E | 1.2 K

A gift for @nyx-knox ✨ my Spawn girlie sister

Summary: one year later, you return to the spot where you found your deceptive, handsome Vampire Rogue and commemorate in the way you love to do.

CW: Inspired by “I Want to Live,” unashamed use of lyrics, The Knee™️, Romantic Missionary, L-bombs, creampie

The gush of damp air from the Chionthar River as it hits your face almost steals your breath.

You remember this place in vivid detail, those days burned in your memory for worse and for better. You look around to get your bearings, not that you can see much. The night’s darkness is so thick on the Ravaged Beach as the teleport’s magic releases you.

A year. It’s been one year since you woke on this shore, since the sands of this beach clung to your skin as you found your closest friends.

And your love.

Astarion takes your hand in his cold grip, squeezing you gently as he heads up the path. “I must say, it’s rather hard to find your way around now without the Nautiloid wreckage burning,” he giggles. “This beach is rather nice without the stink of Illithid slime.”

A laugh in your throat, you just pull yourself hard against his wiry frame, your feet walking in sync to the exact same place.

The bluff where you found him, one year ago.

“Remember the way you pretended to be so fucking helpless?” you tease as you draw closer. “Hello? Over here! I need help!” you mock in a whiny, high-pitched voice.

His laughter turns lower in his chest, fangs nipping at your earlobe with deadly precision even as he doesn’t break stride. “I didn’t know you well back then,” he muses, “You’re just jealous I overwhelmed you enough to get a blade to your throat, darling.”

You laugh again, shoving his face in your palm as you make one final turn. “You’re just lucky I didn’t stake you that first night you came crawling to my bedroll to feed, dear.”

He smiles; even in the dark of night, his face seems to gleam with radiant happiness. His smirk twists higher as he sets down his pack and spreads out a blanket and sachets of provisions. Food for you to enjoy as you undoubtedly offer him your blood for his own hungers.

“I am lucky for many things,” he purrs, pulling you down to the blanket that he’s spread on that bluff where you met. “Most of all, I’m lucky for you and your love, my darling.”

The starlight kisses his silver hair, the shadows in his crimson eyes draw you in until your lips work against the familiar pads of his. Your food sits forgotten, as you knew it would. There is so much more to feast on first. You force your eyes to stay open, catching glimpses of your reflection in his eyes, the brilliant night sky framing your beloved Vampire Spawn in ethereal shadow.

Shadows that are just as much a part of him as you are, he professes.

His lips trail their cool caress down your neck, and he lingers on your own set of scars from his constant year of feeding. The spot tingles as he runs the death-cold tip of his tongue over them. He teases your vein to the surface to feed. Fangs break your flesh. His bite still makes you shiver with its icy prick, and the feeling of his hands wandering to your skirts to lift them up distracts you just enough from that familiar edge of pain.

You can’t pull his leathers down fast enough, your hunger of a different nature burning in your veins as he drinks from you. Lust coils in your belly, the hard planes of his core caging you in makes you salivate. And once you free his cool, rock hard cock from the band of his trousers, Astarion forgets all about the hunger in his belly too. Blood taints the pale curve of his chin and darkens his lips. His breath is death cold as he breathes in your scent, a kiss on your forehead. “You, my darling, make me want to live,” he whispers, “to sample all that life in the shadows has to offer.”

You gasp, the feeling of his knee hooking yours still makes your belly pulse with need as he spreads you open. The slightest grind of his hips drags his cock along your seam, and suddenly the spots of light in the sky are not the only stars in your vision.

Tonight is nothing fancy, no formal celebration, no extravagant affair as he loves to attend. Tonight is just you and him under the cover of night, like that night a year ago on his grave. His first taste of freedom. Of having what he truly wants. All of it. All of you.

You taste the copper of your blood before you feel the chill of his kiss. “I want you, I want you to get me drunk on your blood, on your love…” He grinds his length against your clit, slow, sweet, measured strokes that make you lose control of your hips. “Invite me in,” he rasps. “My only one, let me in.”

“Yes,” the word leaves your lips the moment your hands find his cock, slotting it inside you as he thrusts home.

Waves of pleasure crash into you with every flawless undulation of his body. The roll of his hips overwhelms you, the wash of his cool breath in your ear deafens the rhythmic currents of the river nearby where they crash at the base of the bluff. Your arms ache from clinging around his neck, your thighs quiver as he pushes you higher and higher into your bliss. With every thrust, he hits that special spot in your walls, sending you careening towards orgasm at a blinding pace.

His arms wrap snug around your shoulders, hands press their cool touch to your back, comforting and possessive all at once. A moan escapes you, savoring the way he makes you feel his love with every caress, even if they are cold as death.

This moment is not about long, drawn out sessions of pleasure.

Tonight is about living. About resting in peace in each other’s arms.

“I love you,” you sigh between his panting lips.

“I love this,” he hisses his reply, his body shaking as his own climax threatens to barrel through him. His pace slows, his thrusts more insistent as they plunge into you from tip to base, hard enough to brush his balls against your ass each time.

“I want it all.” Your voice breaks, and you groan as you come, a few stuttering thrusts inside you throw you over the edge. The last thing you see before you close your eyes and scream in orgasm is your own face reflected in his crimson gaze.

He slams into you, grunting and shaking as he comes deep in your cunt. You feel the warmth, the blush of life he gets from drinking your blood, it heats his body and cock and cum. A heavy breath from his lungs, and his weight covers you, the familiar comfort of his body settling into your bones.

“Happy?” you ask, slightly bloodless and breathless with the pleasure it is to still have his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

He sighs. “Yes, for now, I’m satisfied. We have all night to feel this alive.” He looks down at you as he lifts his head, silver curls mussed and sticking with sweat to his forehead. “And we have our whole lives to keep living.” He cocks a brow, mischievous and roguish as ever. “Maybe I should get my dagger for your throat, just for old time sakes, hmm?”

And you giggle, feeling very much alive.

“This is what I want with you for much longer than just one year,” he whispers against your lips, palm cradling your cheek. “I want to live.”

Happy bg3 Birthday, dear readers. Thank you everyone for all the fun and love and horny indulgences you’ve shared by reading my works. You make me feel alive.

[darklyhandsome]

Another little Astarion drabble I wrote.

Tags: emotional comfort, soft Astarion, Astarion x reader but the reader can be any gender.

"Come with me," he purrs. "We can have a night of unparalleled passion beneath the stars. That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself. In me."

His voice slips down your spine like a shiver. You can't tell him no. You've wanted him for ages now, can't resist his charm and his sex appeal and those gorgeous eyes and smirking lips and just everything that he is.

But as Astarion stands, waiting for your answer, you see his mask slip. That charm he seems to ooze with is just a facade, hiding what really lies beneath. You can see it now. In the upturn of his brows, the downcast of his mouth. That slow blink over eyes which speak of pain.

And you know. He doesn't really want what he's offering to you. Of course he wants you, you know that. But the only way he knows how to charm anyone is through sex. He knows no other way. Perhaps he thinks he can make you his with just kiss and caress. Perhaps he thinks he can manipulate you into caring for him as much as he cares about you, if can just fuck you often enough. That's all he's known, after all. He doesn't know that what you feel for him is genuine. That you truly do care and want him.

So instead of saying 'yes' to his question, you simply step towards him, into his open arms. He stands stiff, eyes wide, as you wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder.

"I want you, Astarion," you tell him. "But for now, let it be like this."

Seconds pass by before you feel his hands tentatively come to rest upon your back. More seconds before his cheek presses to yours.

"Let us spend the night beneath the stars," you tell him. "But fully clothed. That's what you want, isn't it? Just a romantic night. The two of us."

He says nothing, perhaps too startled, stricken, afraid even, to reply.

You step back, take him by both hands and lead him away from the camp, into the night.

You lie in each others arms, watching the stars glitter up above, speaking sweet nothings until sleep takes you. When you wake, you feel his arms still around you. When you raise your head to look at him he offers you the sweetest smile you've ever seen. You've won him over, in a way he wasn't expecting. And you'll keep on doing it, proving to him bit by bit, that he really can be cared for. That he really is free.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Lover, Please Stay

Astarion x F! Tav

(Pillow Talk part 2)

18+ complicated feelings, angst, jealousy, intimacy, talks of sex work, fingering (f!), oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), feral Astarion, tenderness

Tav keeping him at arms length, Astarion makes a plan to woo her back into his good graces. But his hunger, for her and her blood, proves distracting...

Masterlist, Part 1

-

True to her word, she was avoiding him.

Even leaving him at camp. He covered the sting like he always did.

"You doing all the work while I relax with a good book? Please, if you must twist my arm."

He hid the anxiety throttling him into a sultry smile. Waving goodbye to the retreating party with a wiggle of his fingers.

When they disappeared into the treeline, he turned with a scowl and pushed inside his tent. The hunger gnawing through him now in the forefront of his mind.

In avoiding him, she had inadvertently kept him from her neck.

Animal blood wasn't enough anymore. Sure technically it filled him, it did the job. But it was a meager substitution.

When her blood would burst into his mouth, it sent a crackling pleasure across the back of his skull. Sending fire in slow pulses as her blood pushed out into his veins. From his center ebbing out a warmth in rhythm to his swallowing. His cold body cracking apart with her molten river. It was a miracle he was able to stop that first night.

The bloodcall was a prickling hateful need, but the other need he felt towards her made him bristle more.

He couldn't stop thinking about the way they had crashed and smeared into each other. There was nothing practiced about it, nothing gained or lost. Just pulling mouths and pleading fingers and dizzy heat.

He felt his cock stir just from the memory and frowned.

This wouldn't do. He was too pent up, a dog in a kennel circling.

He would get back in her good graces, in one way or another.

When they had finally returned for the night, he feigned disinterest. Lounging back on a pillow outside of his tent, flicking the pages of one of his books with the tips of his fingers.

She wiggled out of her boots with adorable little grunts. Unlacing her bracers and beginning to lift up to the buckles on her breastplate.

"Here, let me." Gale stepped over, reaching for the buckles that sat on her sides.

"Oh! Thank you!" She chirped, lifting her arm to make way for his fingers, naturally let her hand fall on his shoulder.

"I guess it's only fair. You don't wear armor, so you have much less undressing to do." She hummed.

He saw the heat go to Gale's cheeks, clearing his throat.

"You know, I could continue to help you. In the future." He offered, a slight waver in his tone.

Astarion had stood before his mind had spoken to his feet. Striding over.

"Gale, dearest. You'll keep her here all night. Let faster fingers attend to our friend here."

Gale held his hands up in defeat good naturedly, but he saw a bite flash across his eyes.

A silent crackling energy passed between them.

"Our pale friend is right, I'd better return to the delectable meal I've been planning."

Gale stepped away, but not before squeezing her bicep, leaving a lingering touch there.

The wizard was lucky his blood was putrid.

Well, maybe he could still rip his throat out for fun.

As soon as Gale was out of earshot Tav sighed, speaking under her breath to him.

"Well, Gale wants to fuck me now too."

"Ah, you'll have to forgive the boy. I'm sure he hasn't seen such a ravishing creature before that dusty tower. Nothing but his hand and books."

Tav gasped, trying to kick him, but he slid away from her foot easily. His fingers snapping her buckles open with flourish.

"You're the devil." She chided, but he could see the smile on the corner of her lips.

"Devilishly handsome? I agree."

The last buckle free, he lifted the breastplate over her.

She moaned, rotating her shoulders in relief. Her undershirt sticking to her skin. The white fabric wet with her efforts.

He kept his eyes above collarbone with great effort. The outline of her full breasts in his peripheral.

"Thank you, my savior." She teased, sitting down to unbuckle from her shin guards.

He was hovering and she noticed, looking up at him expectantly.

"Darling, I couldn't help but wonder why you haven't been offering me your sweet neck."

She sat back up, hand resting on her thigh. Eyes searching his.

"Sorry, I didn't think you'd want to see me after the other night." She said plainly.

"But I guess I'm a service, after all." Said with impartial truth.

"Sure, here." She offered her wrist up to him.

He blinked, on the back foot again.

Like she had scooped into him and pulled the marrow of his person out. That uncanny ability to speak his thoughts through her mouth.

No, I'm the service. Not you, sweet girl.

"Let's wait, no reason to supp from you out in the open. With so many prying hungry eyes."

He trailed the backs of his fingers along the inside of her wrist as she lowered it.

"Meet me in my tent, okay?" He hushed, his voice coming out uncharacteristically soft.

"Of course, whatever you need." She smiled.

He felt like he needed to prove something to her, but what?

He rearranged the pillows for a third time. The candle lit canvas shroud of his tent draped in as much comfort as he could find. Or steal.

Blankets and plush pillows. Enchanted lights draped along the roof, a lavender candle burning on a plate.

He sighed, this was too much. He was being silly.

"May I come in?" She whispered outside of the closed flap.

"I'd like nothing more." He crooned, sitting as casually as he could manage.

She ducked in and blinked in surprise. Eyes trailing along.

"Wow, what's the occasion?" She started getting comfortable. Pulling the pins free from her hair and shaking it down her back. Leaving her shoes in a neat line at the entrance.

Something about seeing her like this again made his heart sing. That casual intimacy that he desired in the cradle of his tent.

She kneeled down across from him, pulling her collar away from her neck. Turning her head to the side, bending open for him.

He leaned forward and gathered her into his hands, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder. Breathing in.

She could feel his need, touching his arm uncertainly.

"Are you okay, Star?" She hushed.

He slid his hand down her back, his eyes closed. Fingers mapping her into his memory.

"Just- just give me a moment." His voice coming out gravelly.

"Do you want me to get undressed?" She whispered, and he nodded into the side of her neck.

She pulled her sleep shirt over her head, his hands only leaving her to toss it far in the corner.

Sat in only the underclothes hugging her hips, she waited patiently as his eyes drank her.

The spread of her hips dipping into her waist. The round full of her breast. The soft curve of her stomach. An oil painting come to life.

"You're very comfortable in the nude." He teased, trying to jumble his thoughts back into his slack head.

"It takes practice." She smiled. "People usually don't want to see the wares stored away."

He could feel the confusion strike his face.

"What do you mean by that, darling?"

"Oh, I figured the others would have gossiped by now. Huh, good for them."

She flourished down her body. "This used to go to the highest bidder."

His hands slowed, pulling away.

"You were a sex worker?"

"What makes you think I'm not still one?" She winked, and he felt a hard shock of sudden recognition in her mannerisms. This was his playing field.

"Tav..." He paused, trying to wrestle his thoughts into a carefully picked set of kind words. She didn't need to know that part of his past yet. He could stand to pretend to be at least somewhat competent for a while longer.

"I get if that turns you off. We can go back to just feeding if you want."

"Well, what do you want?" He leaned his head, looking at her. Dead heart phantom hammering.

She seemed to consider it. "I think I like you, and I want to be near you. In whatever way that means to you."

He leaned forward, sliding on knees to reach her.

He laced his arm around her back, their lips hovered across one another. Her breath tickling his lips.

Sliding his hand down her front, he held her eyes.

A collective breath held between them, only broken as his fingers dipped into her heat.

Her eyes fluttered shut, hips tilting forward.

He pressed his forehead to hers as she rocked into him, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

She tried to reach for his trousers. He huffed out a soft no and led her hands to drape over his neck.

He looked at her with lidded eyes, pulsing his long fingers into her molten heat. Curving and catching the spongy wall.

She squirmed, gripping onto his thighs. One single breath passed between them. Speaking in panting and soft moans.

He pushed her onto her back, sliding down. His mouth coming down to lick in long stripes above his fingers.

She shuddered, head falling back. Gasping out little cries for him.

All of her sounds, her arching movements, wrapping around his mind in a haze.

He ground his erection into the bunched blankets on the tent floor.

His arousal a warm rhythm inside his body for once. The practiced working of his mouth finally put to a worthy effort.

He twisted his tongue into her, slurping and suckling. Free hand holding her in place as her hips tried to escape.

"Fuck," She hissed, gripping his hair. Legs starting to shake around his ears.

He moaned low and deep into her. His cock throbbing, hips fucking into the blankets.

"Oh fuck, Astarion. I'm-" But she was already rising off of the blankets, head wrenched back.

He followed her up, gripping her ass.

She squeaked out a few rising cries then fell apart in his hands. Tremoring rising up through her body, rippling outwards from where his mouth was still pulsing. Her head lolled, little jolts from her cunt as the creamy slick of her spend met his tongue. Lapping it in greedily.

He gasped. It rocketed against his skull like her blood. He needed more.

He hooked her thighs over his shoulders and dove back into her. Hungry. Messy. Uncontrolled. Completely cutting off his breath. He didn't need it anyway.

Her eyes shot open, moaning out.

"Oh Gods," She whimpered, bracing herself next to her head. Holding on as he took her apart.

He felt crazed, his hunger for her blood and the slick he pulled from her one and the same. The sounds coming from his lapping obscene.

Closing his eyes, he growled. Fingernails biting down into her ass. Saliva and slick dripping down his jaw.

One more hard swirling pull on her clit and she was shuddering hard, a strained moan of curses flowing from her lips. Eyes rolling back in her skull like marbles.

He yanked her towards him in anticipation, fingers rubbing hard into her clit encouragingly.

Her second wave of creamy slick met his tongue, so sweet and rich. Lighting his skull up in streaks of pleasure.

He pulled his weeping cock from his leathers and stroked with his slick soaked hand. Once, twice, and he was gone. Spurting thick ropes under his body, whimpering out pulsing cries as the pleasure wrenched out of him.

He lapped at her as long as she would allow, eventually gently pushing his head back.

"Gods below, Star. That was... that was heaven." She gasped.

He murmured in agreement, head falling into the inside of her thigh. Fingers trailing the silk of her side, the arch of her ribcage.

"Do you want me to stay?" She hushed, scratching lightly along his scalp.

He moaned softly, nodding into her.

"Come here to me." She purred, pulling him up her body. Resting his head against her chest.

The beat of her heart a steady tranquil drum. Her arms and legs tangled in his. He puddled into her, both of her hands scratching in slow lines along his skull.

For the first time in a long time, he fell into a heavy sleep.

The night passing dreamless.

~

[comatosebunny09]

talk to me | astarion a.

genre(s): erotica, romance (?) warning(s): praise, dirty talk, female reader, blood drinking, p-in-v, cock warming, terms of endearment, language, blue balls of the female kind summary: astarion discovers you have a thing for praise. what sort of rogue would he be if he didn’t exploit such a weakness? now listening: the lost soul down - nbsplv notes: hi. no excuse, just horny. for @nanaoise08squad. 😅😅😅 thank you for reading, my turtle doves. ❤️❤️❤️

Astarion learns all too quickly that you have a thing for praise. 

He first discovers it by accident. 

After you solve a tricky puzzle standing between you and some much-needed status buffs for your party.

“Excellent work,” Astarion lauds as the magic cools in his veins. He shakes his limbs, sighing like the satisfied cat that finally caught the canary. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you, my dear.” 

He pats you between your shoulder blades for good measure. A seemingly harmless, friendly gesture that causes your body to tense and the leather hilt of your sword to scrunch in your fist.

Keen ears capture the hitching of your breath, your quickening heartbeat, and a mousy squeak pinched from your throat. The pheromones you begin to ooze are sweet as sunmelon, amplifying his intrigue and filling his head with static.

“Oh? What’s this now?” Astarion purrs, stepping around you to have a look at your face. He wears a smirk that bears one canine, and you try valiantly to tuck your bashfulness into your armor, turning your head with a cough. “Did the little pup like that bit of praise?”

If you had a tail, it would surely be wagging. The idea that something so meaningless could get you off makes something glacial sink into Astarion’s belly.

“Bugger off,” you murmur whilst he leans closer. You dismiss him with the wave of your hand, spinning ’round to mask the waver of your voice and the heat igniting in your face. 

You jog away to reunite with the rest of your party at the mouth of the cave, hoping to put an end to this conversation.

Astarion clicks his tongue, drumming his fingers on his chin as he watches you retreat. Can’t help the Cheshire grin that splits his face in twain at his new discovery. 

There was no mistaking the look on your face. The widening of your eyes, the sudden clench of your thighs. The musk of your arousal sits fresh on his tongue.

You liked his little compliment, didn’t you?

He entertains this newfound information a moment longer before joining the lot of you, all crinkly-eyed and smug in your peripheral. 

Your sigh is weighted, and you drop your shoulders, knowing he intends to milk the hells out of this

And milk it, he does.

He has you spread so pretty on his lap, fingernails digging into the meat of your sticky thigh to keep you nice and open. 

Astarion’s free hand manacles your arms behind your back, pinned between your bodies. You could easily break free if you so choose. But you being such an obedient pet for him…

Fucking hells.

His breath is cold and ragged as he roots his nose into the slant of your shoulder, ingesting your earthy aroma and the blood coursing like molten liquid through your veins.

“Darling,” Astarion croons, all teeth and tongue, whilst he nips at the notch of your shoulder. You suddenly feel the hot, lazy drag of a viscous fluid coasting down your arm—your blood. You hadn’t noticed the prick, too swept up in the delightful pressure building between your legs. “Gods, you’re delicious, aren’t you?” 

His voice reminds you of rolling thunder and cured leather. The notion, mixed with the blood loss, causes your exposed nipples to tighten against the frigid whisper of the breeze.

He clicks his tongue. “My sweet little treat. You are intoxicating.”

You moan in reply, wriggling in his grip. Try to clamp your legs shut. To bear down on his cock nestled deep within you, having been teased and stroked until the moon sat high between the stars—until you’ve nearly seen stars. 

But he won’t be having any of that.

He licks a wet stripe up the column of your throat, the puncture wounds slowly healing. It’s positively maddening and obscene, and you instinctively flex your pelvic muscles to feel him pulse within you. To feel him pressing further against that pleasant mesh of nerves buried deep within. Anything to relieve the infernal ache stewing in your belly.

“Oh no, no, no, my love,” Astarion scolds in the most doting tone. “The party’s just begun.” He notches his pelvis up against yours in warning, eliciting the sharpest yelp from betwixt your lips. “Look at you. You’re absolutely drenched. Taking me so well. Such a tight fit. It’s as if you were made for me.”

Your responding whimper makes something feral brew within Astarion’s chest. It takes every bit of him not to end this tortuous game and fuck you into the forest floor. After all, you’re quite a ways from camp with nothing but the rustle of the trees and symphony of the forest dwellers to accompany you. 

No one would hear you—not that he cares. 

He shushes you in that dulcet timbre, lazily rolling his hips to continue his torture. You blink sluggishly to dispel the bleariness nestling beneath your eyes. Saliva puddles in your cheeks. You’re teetering along the edge now, your resolve thrown to the wolves.

Sensing your plight, Astarion nips your shoulder to keep you conscious. Tugs on your arms. “Stay with me, my love. I know you can do it. Gods, I love the way you feel. My filthy little cock sleeve. I could stay like this forever, fuck me. You won’t come without my permission, yes?”

It’s more of a threat than it is a request. Regardless, you nod, your tongue lolling about in your mouth. Your eyes roll back, and the back of your head crashes into his shoulder. The stars above ebb in and out of focus. Streaks of curly white stain your vision before your lids shutter.

“Good, good girl,” Astarion husks, rewarding you with a few more shallow undulations of his hips. Languid like the drag of a tide. He chuckles, something dark and guttural, at how greedily you suck him in. How wet you are, your pussy squelching lewdly around him. “It will be a long night for you, my sweet, if you do not use your words. You’d do best to heed me. Do you understand?”

You’ve no choice but to comply. Not that you could deny him, your mind overhauled with only thoughts of your little star, filling you to the brim. 

You squeeze out a breathy “yes.” And it makes Astarion smirk into your skin. He’s gentle as he brands your neck and shoulder with slothful kisses. A complete contrast to the debauchery taking place in his lap. 

“So, so good for me. I adore it when you listen.”

Tears gather in your eyes. Your lips curve into a crazed smile. You’d give him the world in a handbasket if you could. But for now, you’ll settle for this. Sitting pretty in his lap, leaking around his cock, testing his restraint as much as he pushes yours. 

[inkyquince]

The idea of Gortash and Astarion being in love with the Durge at the same time is so interesting to me. Because their both fundamentally in love with two different people. Pre-tadpole, Gortash fell for a Durge who was a slave to their urges. Astarion fell for a Durge whos regained autonomy over their mind and now has the ability to choose who they want to be.

This may be a hot take, but idc.

I feel like... From reading everything in game about Gortash and meeting him? He would be so into a redeemed Durge. Like, yeah, slight downside of their morals being a smidge too light now, but oh well.

Dark Urge had gotten free of Bhaal. The one actual barrier between them and also fully going into their plan. Remember, Durge apologised to their father for being so FOND of Gortash, they promised that they'll kill the other Chosen in Bhaal's name, etc. The one controlling all their moves? Their Father.

And they either are/want to be free of him.

Fuck, he's hard. They're so fucking strong and stubborn and perfect.

He uses guile, he uses charisma, he uses everything to get a leg up. He used his body, his joined a gang, all while younger. Now he's here. Nothing he respects more than gaining power and influence without being controlled, if his time in the House of Hope taught him anything, it's that being controlled will lead to being beaten and used and discarded.

Control is what made the Dark Urge so fucking endeared to him in the first place. They're not a mad dog, like Orin. They loose control some times but LOOK at the acts you just played through. They have SO much fucking control compared to what their urges want them to do. Gortash values control so fucking much.

But, just like Gortash, Astarion will fall in love with the Dark Urge, redeemed or not. Even if he remains a spawn, he's so soft with them. He will stay until he can't watch them loose their mind anymore. But ascended? He wants them in his lap, naked and rabid and far gone. He loves them, even as nothing better than a feral dog.

Like.... I think Astarion and Lae'zel and Shadowheart are the ones who will fully love the un-redeemed Dark Urge. Gale, as we can see after the Tiefling Massacre, will stick by you but he fucking HATES your ass for what you put him through. Wyll and Karlach leave. Even if you don't pick the nasty sides in the game, when Dark Urge gives into their... well, urges, they're horrified. Astarion, Lae'zel and Shadowheart, while not ECSTATIC are less incensed about the shit you do. Hell, when you take Bhaal's offer, everyone in the party basically... Says goodbye to the person they loved, EXCEPT Astarion. Even if you break up with him, he says that 1000 years from now, when he's forgotten how to open himself up to people, he shall spare a thought for his little lost mad love.

The fact is, Gortash and Astarion will love the Urge, just in different ways, Redeemed or Not. Hell, if the Dark Urge goes feral, Gortash will still love them properly, I feel. Ascended Astarion, like a normal Tav, will love them as a pet. For the romance of ruling by your side, to bond in blood, to adore you bringing sacrifices to his door like a cat with their prey, Gortash is the dark romance love interest you want.

[bananastarion]

Rambling headcanons about how Astarion's trauma could manifest in your relationship.

Disclaimer: I am not fetishizing trauma or PTSD here. I have C-PTSD myself, and have dated others with it as well. So some of this is (loosely) inspired by my own experiences. It's not pretty, it's not fun, but I'd say it's pretty realistic. So yeah, fair warning! Anyway, let's gooooo

Astarion isn't fazed by much, but he IS claustrophobic- having to claw your way out of your own coffin, being trapped in a mindflayer pod and being trapped in a tomb for a year straight would do that to anyone. If he is ever unfortunate enough to be stuck in a small space again, he'll go into a blind panic. He'll hyperventilate and try to force his way out any way he can, and if he can't get out in time he'll just completely mentally shut down for a bit. If you plan to pull him into a little broom closet for a sneaky fuck, just forget it ok? You will probably get your eyes accidentally clawed out.

There is a long period in your relationship where Astarion is gradually getting more comfortable with being vulnerable around you, but he's also very self-conscious about it. He doesn't want you to pity him or think he's weak. You will be tempted to give him lots of validation and praise to make up for all of the psychological abuse he endured, to reassure him that he's finally safe and free, and that you love him for more than just his body. That his problems won't ever drive you away, and that you don't judge him. He appreciates your words deeply, he wants and needs them more than he cares to admit. But at the same time, they completely overwhelm him. Finally being in a good place with a caring partner is such a stark contrast to what he's been through, that it forces him to see even deeper into the void inside him and recognize just how badly he was treated, how deprived he's been. They hit him hard in both good and bad ways, and sometimes he'll tell you to stop because he just can't handle feeling so much right now. It's best to stick to mostly surface level stuff and ease carefully into the deeper, more meaningful observations.

The sweeter your words, the more his mind races with fears that you are idealizing him and eventually you'll come to see him for what he really is- and then abandon him. Fears that he'll come to depend on your kindness only for it to be ripped away, whether by you or by circumstances beyond his control. Fears that you don't really mean it, that you're just manipulating him the way he did to others. Deep down he hopes and trusts you're sincere, but it's just so hard to accept when Cazador's voice is in his head, countering all of it. This is all so new to him, so unknown. And the unknown is terrifying. He gets frustrated that your kindness does this to him, he wants to be able to embrace your words, he's so impatient to heal and finally be over this shit already. He judges himself so harshly for still struggling with all this. Cazador's dead, he is free, he has someone who truly loves him- why isn't that enough?! Why can't he fully appreciate it, is he just going to feel broken forever? He worries he'll take too long to get over his past, and you'll get tired of it and leave. Expect to give him lots of reassurance about all of this.

He doesn't like to cry around you, but over time you will lower his guard enough that he'll stop fighting back the tears quite so much. Sometimes it's a bad dream, sometimes you say something that just hits him hard (even if it's in a good way), and sometimes he has no idea what triggered it. You tell him he can wake you up any time if he needs you, but often he chooses not to wake you and just suffers through it alone. When it happens while you're both awake, at first he would roll over and face away from you when the tears started flowing if he couldn't collect himself, and you'd just hug him from behind. But eventually he feels comfortable enough to bury his face in your chest and just let it all out. When it's really bad, he'll be trembling and hugging you so tightly as he sobs into your shirt that it's almost hard for you to breathe. The best thing you can do is just be there with him, stroke his hair, caress the tears off his cheeks. It can be dicey, but eventually you learn to read him well enough that sometimes stroking the scars on his back very gently can be healing for him. There are other times though, when this will be too much for him. Same goes for kissing. Also, don't even think about telling anyone you've seen him like this. But of course, why would you?

Don't go into therapist mode with him when he's that vulnerable, and if he decides to talk, just let him talk. Hold space for him and be there with him. Afterwards, help ground him in the present and reconnect him to his senses by pointing out things in the room, remind him that it's not all happening to him right now. Realize how special it is that he feels safe enough with you to be so vulnerable. There are times when he even breaks down during sex, and he'll say that he's fine and you can keep going, but it's for the best to stop what you're doing and check in instead. He often dissociates when he's triggered, and doesn't realize something is wrong until it's too late.

Trauma isn't always pretty, and there are times when it does strain your relationship. When he's really triggered, he might take it out on you. He'll try his best to push you away, and say terrible things he doesn't mean. Perhaps things Cazador said to him. His articulate manner of speech can be sharper than his blade when wielded against you in the heat of the moment. He doesn't believe you can love this side of him, that he is fundamentally broken and unlovable, so it's a test of sorts to prove his own fears. He doesn't necessarily realize what he's doing, he's just lashing out from a point of pure fear. Trauma is an explanation for this behavior, but not an excuse, so it's important you set very firm and consistent boundaries when he gets like this. He might not appreciate it in the moment, but he will once he calms down.

It takes some time for him to feel truly secure with you, but he's getting there. In the meantime, he's starting to get a little clingy and codependent. He's not used to having so much freedom, and doesn't always know what to do with himself when you're not around. Being in your presence is when he's closest to feeling safe and at ease, and being apart for too long can cause his mind to race, especially when he has nothing to distract himself with. It drives him crazy that it gets to him so much- he's never been dependent on anyone before, and this side of him surprises himself. He hates it, which only stresses him out more. He tries to play it off, but it's very obvious he is struggling with separation anxiety. You don't want to overindulge him, but to ease his fears you decide to get a pair of magical rings. You can make each other's rings glow whenever you want- so if Astarion is feeling lonely, he can make your ring glow and you can make his glow back. Sometimes, just that is enough to get him through a rough day without you. Once he has done some more healing, eventually he will come to enjoy his alone time in a way he's never gotten to before in his life, and as much as you enjoy spending time with him, you'll be so happy for him to finally have that.

[istoleyoursk1n]

Hi can you do halsin Gale and Astarion with a very explicit and flirty paladin s/o who looks super stoic and serious please?

Like they’re there standing stoic and menacing and then whispers in their ear the dirtiest pick up line ever?

Like I think they’d have a funny reaction!

Feel free to refuse ofc! Thanks anyways!

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would Halsin, Gale, and Astarion react to a paladin who looks stoic/strict only for them to be an explicit and flirty?

(Damn, reminds me of my PaladinLMAO)

.

.

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Oh, darling, and just when I thought you were as dense as a brick wall. I never could have guessed that beneath all that was a cheeky little flirt. All that dirt coming out of such a filthy mouth, you ought to have someone clean it out for you, my sweet.”

He was the one being the flirty ass at first, hitting on you in every teasing way he could think of with the hopes that perhaps someday he’d get a reaction out of you for his own amusement.

You never seemed to comment on his “advances” at first, you remained as stern as usual with little but a side glance to offer.

Probably got personally offended each time his usual charms failed but he was persistent. More so because he wanted to prove that he could truly seduce even the most stoic of hearts.

He made it his personal mission to make you crack, but along the way, he may or may not have fallen for you. Regardless, the realization absolutely horrified him.

Perhaps he just has the worst luck ever or you finally started to begin your master plan of turning the tables against him but nevertheless, he wasn't prepared at all for what you had in store for him.

He was already taking quite the liking to you, so the moment you began whispering such depraved yet smooth words into his ear, he was shocked and speechless for the first time in years.

His mind was practically breaking apart as you laid out every filthy thing you had in mind. He truly couldn't tell if this was utterly fucked or if he was somehow into it.

You would be the sole reason a tint of color finally appears in his otherwise undead skin. The tint being a bright shade of red of course.

He goes from being startled, angry, confused, flustered and then eventually hitting you right back with a little pick up line of his own once he’s finally calmed down.

Now both of you end up teasing and flirting with each other as sneakily as possible, both of you trying to outdo the other in terms of who could fluster whom the most.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“I…oh gods, love, you truly don't understand the things you do to this heart of mine. Of all the weaknesses I could have possibly gotten, you are one I’d welcome with open arms. I have stood proud amongst a Goddess but for you? I’d fall to my knees.”

He was slightly intimated by you at first by how stoic you appeared to be. You seemed like a person who’d prioritize business and work above all else, repelling anyone with nothing more than a glare.

He wasn't even sure how to approach you, he was already admiring you from afar but he feared that you would have never felt the same. Not when it felt as if your heart was locked within walls of stone.

He tried to shoot his shot once or twice, but they were always met with a few words of acknowledgment or even worse, a mere nod.

As much as he wished to simply move on from his utter fixation on you, he can't help but pine. You’re something he's grown to truly desire in ways he could hardly express.

However, one way or another, every little attraction he’s felt for you thus far is revealed by him. Completely exposing just how smitten he truly is by you and perhaps that single moment of true vulnerability is what finally made you snap.

Pull him close and abruptly whisper every depraved fantasy and dirty pickup line you've thought of just for him and he’d die. I mean, melting right then and there into a puddle of shame.

For a man who talks too much, he suddenly becomes oddly quiet, his eyes wide with a certain gleam of helplessness that makes him look all the more exposed to you.

For once in his life he’s stuttering his words, barely even able to hang onto a sentence without having to take a moment to breathe or silently whimper out in a mix of embarrassment, confusion, and frustration.

Dropping one of your pickup lines would be just enough to have this man in a chokehold. Truly. It’s one of the only ways to actually silence him.

He’s not one for pickup lines but he’d try his damn best to voice out his admiration for you similar to how a poet would describe their one and only muse. Through each sweet whisper, you dare utter, he falls deeper and deeper in love with you.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“My heart, I beg of you. Each word, each whisper, even the soft tingle of your breath against my skin- you are a walking temptation that I so longingly wish to taste. My blood runs wild when you are near and I fear what I may do to you if you if you continue on.”

He was hardly bothered by the fact that you seemed a tad bit uptight. He has met far too many people similar to you and he’s learned better than to judge someone based on appearances alone.

Doesn't change the fact that he was in fact attracted to you.

The thing is, he respects you too much to ever make a move. At least, not for a while. Most conversations you’d have with Halsin were of the friendly sort at first, prioritizing the mission at hand before anything else.

However, in truth, the way his eyes practically brightened and his breath ever so subtly quivered when you approached was something you could have slowly picked up on.

He eventually slides very discrete hints about his attraction toward you, simply testing the waters to see if you would reciprocate. However, he truly never expected you to actually take the bait.

Before he could even properly make a move on you, you were already whispering every one of your sweetly depraved desires into his ear, catching him completely off guard.

He knew that there must have been more beneath your hardened exterior but he would have never suspected this. But is he complaining? Absolutely not.

But do be careful when and where you decide to whisper such things to him because you may or may not be seconds away from being utterly ravished by one bear of a man against the nearest surface.

Do so in public spaces where it's safe to tease him, giving you the freedom to watch as his breath heaves and his voice breaks just by the smoothened words coming out of your dirty mouth.

Nevertheless, he’s absolutely obsessed with your little flirty remarks, said remarks being enough to fluster him instantaneously. All the lovers he had taken in his life and yet he had never met one who could madden him as much as you do.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

[meanbossart]

How did your DU drow react when he got told he had to kill his spouse? and then when he went to wake up Astarion and get tied up? I think I just wanna know how your DU drow mentally/emotionally is doing during and after that part, and when talking to Astarion afterward, I'm a sucker for hearing about those deep kinds of moments (hopefully that makes sense?) Also, how did your DU react when you met Kressa Bonedaughter and learned all about what was done to him (again, I know none of the companions really comment on literally something horrible being told such a shame, honestly) but how would you say or think that Astarion and Shadowheart might have reacted hearing that info? Again, thank you for all your art and for answering these questions! PS: (I really don't care if your answer is super long; I WILL EAT IT UP)

Sooo for the first question, I wanna preface by saying that I personally don't think their relationship was that in depth yet, at that point. Yes, DU drow enjoyed Astarion's company and relied on him in a similar way which he relied on Shadowheart. And also yes, Astarion saw DU drow as the first person who ever took him and his agency seriously - but I think feelings were still in their infancy. DU drow's mind was a mess through and through; he drank constantly to keep his urge at bay, he kept his distance from everyone most of the time, and when he did seek out comfort in either Shadowheart or Astarion (the non-sexual kind, they didn't really fuck at all), it was a kind of primal instinct and desperate longing for companionship - if you asked him if he was in love with anyone, however, he would have said no.

Similarly, while I think Astarion's act 2 confession is sincere, I also think that he's being sincere when he says that he doesn't know what you are yet. You're not really a lover, but you aren't a victim, either; what you are is a person who he would rather not have to murder eventually, and as someone who has had their empathy squeezed out throughout the course of two centuries, that's meaningful enough. He may fantasize about the best case scenario for you two - but he has no expectations that whatever this is will last. But it is nice, for the time being.

So the "murder your darling" scene, rather than a proof of love and trust, is to me the turning point where:

A) DU drow has to come to terms with the fact that he doesn't have as much control over the Urge as he thought, and B) When Astarion snaps out of his care-free, just-go-with-the-flow nature around his plan and this relationship. They both realize they bit off more than they could chew and are now caught in each other's crossfire.

Which is to say that I don't read Astarion's words of comfort to him as entirely honest - specially when you compare it to certain dialogue deliveries later in the game. I think he's still, to a degree, telling you what you need to hear so that you hold out for just a bit longer and kill Cazador. You probably can't be together forever as he idly fantasized about once or twice, when he let his mind wander - but god damn it, he needs to at least be free, and it seems like you have bloodlust to spare to make that happen.

Meanwhile, DU drow finally comes to confront the fact that he is not in control. Doesn't matter how hard he tries or how much he drinks, the urge will do to him as it will, and when it wishes. It stops being fun and it gets scary, from that moment on.

But here's who did stop it: Astarion. Where alcohol fell short and his willpower failed, Astarion stepped in.

So, more interesting than the scene itself to me, is how from that point on DU drow would have no choice but put his trust entirely on the vampire to control him. He ties him up, he keeps an eye on him, he has full spoken-word permission to kill him if necessary - he is forced to be as vulnerable at humanly possible under his hand, every night. Regardless of whether or not DU drow realizes that Astarion is doing it for his own reasons, he doesnt care, because Astarion has now become his rock and his bondage - hell, if Astarion does have a reason to keep him alive that's all the better; someone else might just slit DU drow's throat and be done with the concern altogether.

And so, it's only from that point on that DU drow truly starts to see Astarion as an equal, and even a partner. He's thinking that, if his whole life has to be like this, at least he has someone who can handle it.

Astarion, meanwhile, I believe only comes to truly consider (and wish for) DU drow's freedom after he's free from Cazador - and after he bestows that freedom upon his siblings and the other spawn. That's when he finally understands the length of DU drow's devotion to him and the value of freewill as a concept- and how he wants it for both of them, instead of being content with his own.

Not to mention... I think in Astarion's mind he was 100% not going to survive Cazador LOL so when he succeeds he's like "oh shit I guess anything is fucking possible huh. Yeah fuck it lets go fight your dad, also I've decided I want you for realsies, now."

Anyways, can you believe I thought this was gonna be a short ask. Here have a doodle I made while thinking about all this bullshit:

As for Kressa, I got an ask about that before but I can't find it now LOL to summarize; he was pissed, angered, and in a far more personal level embarrassed to have had his dirty laundry aired (AKA, victimized) in that way in front of the others - but this isn't something he would have expressed outwardly, and I think both Shadowheart and Astarion would have known better than to inquire him about it. It's not really something he would have sought out comfort for in anyone, so, I think the subject died as soon as Kressa did. In this case, their lack of commentary was completely appropriate - If they had reached out in any way (which would have been, in my opinion, completely out of character) DU drow would have shut them out with a quickness.

[pursuitseternal]

✨⚡️ “Magical” ✨⚡️

Act 3 UA Astarion x f!Reader | E | 2.6 K

🎨 by @marimosalad | A gift for @nyx-knox 🎈

Summary: Lost in the vault of Sorcerers’ Sundries, you and your Vampire are trapped, not just in the maze of rooms, but by your many unspoken feelings. It’s time to get free

CW: Implied break up with Gale, act 3 romance AU, Yearning and pining and feelings oh my, unrequited love, angst with a happy ending, biting feeding, first time as a couple, vaginal sex, creampie

Ao3 Link | Astarion Fic Masterlist

“Fucking hells, we’ve been here before!” that usual silken voice cracks with pissed off frustration.

Not that you blame him. Every room in this vault looks the fucking same. Sorcerers’ Sundries. Of course every g would be magically complicated.

“It might be…” you waver in your confidence. “Ugh, if only Gale hadn’t hurried ahead,” it pains you to say, to even mention your… well, your former lover.

“It’s his fucking fault we are in this mess,” Astarion huffs, cocking his hips as he scans the room. You can tell, it’s a forced air of calm. A thin veneer of that charm and fuck-all attitude you have grown increasingly dependent upon, especially with your mending heart.

Gale’s blind pursuit of ambition, of showing Mystra he was, in fact, worthy, had grown too much for your relationship to bear. So, days ago, you had ended it. Even still, you had to take him here to find the Annals of Karsus. At least Astarion had volunteered to stay by your side. His carefree approach to his problems had soothed your nerves… until you had learned more about his past, those details that had slipped past you, back when Gale had been your world. The vampire’s hunger, his suffering, his Master, his scars… his abuse.

And then, last night, his so-called siblings had come in the night. You won’t ever forget the way you woke to find Astarion prowling between you and their glowing red eyes. Protecting you. It was after fighting them off that something had… shifted in your companionship.

Since then, he had been your shadow, never more than a step away from you. Those crimson eyes always keeping you in their sights, or at least his periphery. And then, once the party got split in this labyrinthine mess of doors and trapped rooms, you were immeasurably thankful for his vigilance.

But it still means you are now lost in a room of glowing walls and identical doors.

Astarion snarls, fangs bared. “Why can’t I just stab something and get us out of here!” He is exasperated, and perhaps a bit… trapped.

You see it in the way his neck muscles strain, the way his chest rises and falls faster even if he doesn’t need to breathe.

“Astarion,” you speak softly, your voices bouncing strangely around in the glowing walls. You can feel the very foundations of this vault built with magic, it’s in the air, in your lungs, and in your fingers. Made from the Weave itself. It calls to your sorcery, your magic.

He looks… almost helpless, those wide wet eyes that scan the glowing walls, the sweat that clings to his face.

“Astarion, speak to me,” you say gently. “It’s alright, we will find our way out, get back to the others.”

Astarion rounds on you, chest heaving as something snaps into place… or is it out of place. “Yes I’m sure you’re most eager to get back to the others… some unfulfilled need to yet prove yourself to Gale, darling? Hearts are far more fragile than necks,” he sneers, walking into the next room through a random door. You, heart aching at the accusation and mention of your old flame, hurry after him.

It’s a large, octangular room, a chest on one side, display cases all around, shelves of scrolls all just waiting to be looted. But Astarion freezes, eyes vacant as he looks in disbelief. “I really thought this was the way back… that we’d get out of this maze from the hells…”

“Astarion, what’s wrong?” You speak softly, drawing up and touching his arm. “Maybe…. Would blood help?” you ask, quivering on the inside and shaking on the out as you pull at the forest green collar of your shirt. “Tell me how to help you,” you watch as his crimson gaze darts over you until they look into your eyes. Then, he settles on your vein, and you can almost hear him counting your heartbeats without the tadpole connecting your brains.

You laugh gently. “It’s been a few nights since you asked or I offered to feed you…”

“I mean… I didn’t want to intrude. You’ve had a lot going on,” his voice sounds dry, his jaw clenching as you know he fights the hunger he struggles with daily.

“And you haven’t?” You tease, gently and carefully making mention of the night's events. “What I went through pales in comparison. Gale and I,” you give an aggrieved sigh. “I only wish I hadn’t given him as much as I did just to get him to see that he doesn’t need this crown, he doesn’t need to defy Mystra when he has me.” You pause, chewing your lip. “Had… me.”

You look into his face, those firm lines don’t smile, his gaze is guarded and… for once you see his mouth still. He’s listening carefully, not quipping or flirting or smiling.

“I’m… I’m glad to be done with Gale in that way. Now I can just take my heart out of the mess and help him find this book.” You chew your lip again, those scarlet eyes darting from your gaze the instant your mouth worries on itself to watch.

But you keep talking. “Your strife is so much bigger, lest we forget that your siblings made a mess in our rooms… I’m glad we could stave them off and…” you keep biting your lip, dropping your gaze to the weird glowing pink floor, hesitating to say the next thing on your mind, “you told me about what it was like for you as his spawn… about that year you spent in the coffin. It’s no wonder you’re a bit frantic in here, feeling trapped…”

You feel cool air on your neck first, his body drawing up behind you. Lips press on your vein then suck it to the surface. “I think I will indulge if you offered,” he says the words so quickly, it’s hard to make them out.

There is then, the icy breaking of your skin as he bites. A gasp slips from your lips, and you’re almost dead certain his bite is harder this time just to shut you up.

But it doesn’t matter. Not the way your body instantly shivers with repressed pleasure as his lips pull your crimson, as his hands grip your shoulders back against him so you don’t squirm out of reach.

“Darling,” he breathes, and that familiar moniker sounds more… pleading. “I’ve been trapped for longer than you’ve seen…” You feel his hands tighten on your arms for a moment, then loosen… then roam up and down them.

You know he can taste it, hear it. The way your heart just jumped into your throat and the way your belly just lurched like you almost fell headlong over a cliff.

“T-trapped?” you clench your hands to keep them from shaking.

“Oh yes, and it’s your fault, you know,” his lips lift from your wounds to press bloodied kisses along your shoulder. “I’ve watched you and the wizard, my eyes following your every move, as your eyes followed his. I watched as your magics wove together, only to sunder apart now. At first, I didn’t care…”

He trailed off, moving his mouth to caress your other shoulder, nipping, not biting, the sensitive places near your short-pointed ear.

“But the more you still cared for me, even though you and I were not…”

“Romantic?” You guess.

“Fucking,” he corrects with a slow, deep-bellied chuckle.

That word makes your body jolt out of control again, your own magic almost sizzling in your veins.

His laughter crescendo. “So, you see, I’ve been trapped for a long while now. Watching you… waiting for you to care just a little more. Waiting for you to see yourself as worth more than being the next-best-thing that wizard could hope for. You’re too good for that, too powerful for that.”

Gripping your waist, he spins you, and the hunger in his eyes makes you shiver, even as your blood is smeared from feeding. “Do… you still feel trapped?” you whisper, voice rough in your throat. As your gaze darts to his red and sticky lips. You wonder how you taste…

“Do you? Feel trapped that is?” he purrs down at you, hands winding to your back to pull you flush against him.

“No, I feel free,” you swiftly reply, standing on your tippy toes to kiss those conceited lips. You taste metal, your blood is sticky and a bit sweet, but he barely lets the taste register before his tongue floods your mouth with it. Those movements of his mouth are familiar, nearly the same that have fed on you nightly on the road, but now… now they are transcendent.

You move your lips to match his, your tongue dueling with him until your head grows light. Vampires don’t need to breathe, and he knows it. It’s dizzying the way he consumes you, fierce and demanding. Like a starved man at a banquet.

Light headed, your knees buckle, and instantly his hands lock firmly to support you, bracing you against his chest. His scent fills your nose; that heady scent swallows you whole. Crisp and bright and sensual. Just like him.

He lifts you, and you jump into his arms. That well-fed vampiric strength is now a personal boon, one you’re eager to take advantage of. Magic tingles down your spine as he presses you into a column, his face pulling away, breaking the kiss, and making you whine.

“Tell me you want this, darling,” he murmurs in sultry tones, those crimson eyes wide and pleading and brimming with unspoken feelings. “Tell me it’s not an illusion, that you also feel the mag—”

“If you say magic right now, I might bite you back,” you tease, his obvious humor and tawdry flirtation making you giggle.

Astarion just gives that rakish smirk as he shuts his mouth and grinds his hips against your sex.

You suddenly flush, head to toe, hot and thrumming with instant need. Your mind whirs, not recalling the last time you had been with Ga… anyone else… you push the thought from your mind.

“Darling, don’t wander from me in your thoughts. Just speak the magic words and I’m yours,” he drops his voice into his chest, into that purr that makes you wet, “and you’re all mine.” Thumb and finger, so cool and callused, tenderly pinches your chin and brings your mouth to his.

You nod furiously, tears in your eyes as his mouth moves on yours, a sensuous dance that leaves you breathless. He lifts you, cradling you as your bodies lower to the floor, the shining sparkles of magic feel like static on your back. You arch, and not because of the strange floor. The way his hips lower into yours, his arms wrap around you. He’s everywhere, the perfect crush of sinew and bone you had dreamed he would be when you weren’t lying to yourself about your heart. This was right… this was what you craved.

“My sweet, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, wanted you,” he growls into your mouth. Then he lifts away, breathless and sweating, his flawless silver curls mussed over his forehead. “Typically, I pride myself on a long first conquest, lengthy sessions of… stimulation… and…”

“Shut up,” you laugh, “I don’t care if this last two minutes.” He swallows your giggle and girlish shrieks as he pulls down pants. “It’ll be the most magical two minutes of my life.”

Astsrion tugs into your waistband and something tears slightly as he pulls them confidently and zealously to your ankles. “I promise you, little love, I’ll last longer than two minutes…”

You reach to do the same for him, hand brushing the straining bulge in his leathers, making him hiss and whisper shockingly loudly.

“….Well maybe not much longer than two minutes.”

You giggle, freeing him from the fastened front. And your mouth salivates as your hand closes around it. You’d seen his cock before, accidentally or slightly on purpose. Smooth and flaccid but definitely beautiful. But now…

“Hells,” you groan, your fingers closing around it to feel just how smooth and veined and disgustingly hard it is.

“All yours, my sweet…” he chuckles, thrusting into your grip with the slightest push of his hips.

A wanton moan escapes you, unprepared as you are for that feeling.

It makes his smirk twist even more wickedly and only makes him thrust his hips again. Harder. With his eyes locked onto your face to watch the way yours flutter shut and your mouth part in another breathy moan. You open your eyes, and something seems to snap into place between you, his lips crash into yours, his hand gripping his cock at the base, teasing that flushed and leaking head against your folds.

Inch by sweet inch, he fills you, your breathing so quick and your eye so watery with unshed tears of bliss. It’s all consuming, the way you meld into one another. You glance between your thighs, watching where his cock enters you. In… and out… every little roll of his body as you adjust to the feeling of him makes your nerves burn with static and your blood race at a gallop. Mesmerized, you lose all sense of time as he takes you, fixated on the sight of you two becoming one.

With a growl, his control slips, and he picks up the pace, lowering his body to crush you again. Faster, he drives thrust after thrust, making your vision swim. Not that you can keep your eyes open, too afraid you’ll lose the feeling of him finally taking you. His lips press to your ear, rasping and husky as he speaks. “Hells, you’re perfect. Tight and warm… better than I’ve dreamed of it.”

His words alone push you to the brink. You feel it, or orgasm, faster and harder and more insistent than any you’ve ever felt before. The tightening of your belly and the blast of heat and wet that rages through you. You buck your hips, chasing it, catching the ridged head of his cock on your bundle of nerves just right.

You scream so loudly, you’re sure that these magic walls would crumble if they could. Back arching, voice breaking, you gush around him. And every thrust squelches loudly, even as they grow deeper and more erratic.

He lifts his head, those crimson eyes two pitch black centers as he growls a single worded question: “Where?”

Lust clouds your head, thoughts too scattered by the delicious drag of him inside you for it to make sense right away. So his hands squeeze your ass, your hip.

“Where?!” his voice breaks in desperation.

You answer, pulling him by his back to thrust into you deeper, harder, fuller. “Here,” you rasp.

The slacked-mouth smile on his face is burned forever in your memory as he lowers his head and pummels slower, more deliberate. He grunts, he gasps, louder and higher, the slightest whimper breaking from his throat as you feel him stutter and come inside you. It’s wet and full, the way he throbs with every pulse of his cum to flood you.

A few slower drags in your walls, and all you are is wet… and happy.

And whole.

He kisses you gently, plush lips sucking and working yours as he grins like a fool. “Dare I say… that was magical?”

You swat his arm, but laugh. For it was exactly that.

My lovely Nyx, thank you for trusting me your beloved Evelyn, for she’s my spawn girlie and a treasure to write for, implied reader 💛⚡️

[easy-there-leftovers]

Hiii can I just say I’m OBSESSED with ISY,D!! Amazing work truly the best ❤️

I saw asks are open so I thought I’d slip in a little prompt 👀

Astarion and Tav have a bit of a spat at camp. Tav is trying to convince Astarion that ascending would make him just as bad as Cazador, but Astarion craves the power and the freedom. Tav, upset and frustrated, ends up leaving for a walk through the late night streets of the gate to clear their head. One of the vampire spawn out looking for their next prey find Tav, recognizing them immediately as Astarion’s love (and one true weakness) and kidnaps them to bring to Cazador. Cazador, being the sick fuck he is, locks Tav away and sends a note to Astarion that he finds the next morning, saying that he had Tav and that if Astarion wants them back he has to surrender to Cazador and go through with the ceremony. Astarion loses his mind and races to the castle with the gang in tow, praying that Tav is unharmed. Will he be there just in time to save Tav? Or will he be too late, will Cazador have already turned them by the time he gets there?

Sorry for the paragraph but this has been in my mind for DAYS and I would cry if you could make this story come to fruition ❤️

-🌸

Hello 🌸anon!! Thank you so much for liking the series, I'm glad that it's something that you enjoy reading! Also, I've decided to include @simp-4-astarion's request as they were rather similar in nature!! Thank you so much for liking my work :,DDD

In addition!! Just a heads up for people who'd like to request or send an idea in, I don't just write for Astarion! Feel free to include your favorite romanceable pcs (and non romanceable npcs lol) into the mix!!

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That night at camp had been fraught with tension, like a fraying rope ready to snap. The campfire crackled, the tongues of the flame dancing and flickering about, mirroring the storm within the heated pair.

Your voice, something that he's come to find solace in as of late, quivered with frustration unlike any he's heard directed at him before as you tried to reason with him.

"I don't relish it. but my," He pauses, wondering what he should call them. "--Siblings lured thousands of people to their death over the years. I doubt Baldur's Gate would miss any of them." He seems rather taken with the idea, and you worry about what this could mean for him.

"But we don't even know if it's possible, Astarion. You're hypothesizing that you become the Vampire Ascendant at the expense of eradicating the other spawn." Whether or not they had done things as horrendous as your,-- gods you don't even know what you are,-- as the ex-magistrate, they did not deserve to be subjected to such a ritual.

He paces around you, ascertaining your reactions, and making quick work to think about how he could convince you

"And so what? I've obviously thought about it. If I completed the ritual, this evocation, I'd have insurmountable power. And--" He nears himself to you, practically whispering the following words into the skin of you neck. As if anything he said would etch its way into your skin and carve you anew.

"I could walk in the sun without fear of becoming a mindflayer. Don't you want that for me, darling? For us?" The question instills an indescribable fear in you. Not the same fear that's been riddling you as you wonder if you'd perish in one of your many battles, oh no, it was the fear you'd bear witness to when you lost something dear to you.

It's as if he's giving you an out.

Agree with him, and you seal his fate as the Vampire Ascendant with a sure place at his side.

Or disagree, allowing all those spawn the same chance he had been given all those tendays ago, and snuff out whatever growing relationship you had between you.

He senses your uncertainty.

And he feels lost.

He figured that you would be so sure to keep him at your side. Doing anything it takes to make sure it stays that way, but now you're getting cold feet with his blatant proposal of companionship because of what?

These monsters he's hunted with?

These damned spawn that represent everything you've seeked to correct about the world?

"Astarion, please, give them a chance. They were just like you once, give them that much."

At any other time, he would've admired your efforts to help them. But in this moment, he thinks you a fool who could never truly understand what it means to be a slave.

To want for power.

"You did not know them. And you do not know me as well as you may think, my dear, if you think they deserve a chance more than I do."

He doesn't know why it all happened the way it did. The way that his thoughts came tumbling out of his mouth and only allowing the worst of things to escape him.

All he knows was that it had surely hurt you and that he doesn't think he's ever seen your retreating form look as small as it did as you walked towards somewhere in the city.

And that he wished he had remembered where they were. So near to where his consanguines and he used to hunt.

So when he and the others are greeted with a letter smelling of undeath, telling them that they had their precious leader imprisoned in Cazadaor's manor, he knows not to tell them about the little argument you two had.

Knows not to tell them anything to dampen their mood as they search for you.

Knows not to tell them that the likelihood He kept you alive was slim to none, now that he has Astarion's attention.

Once they had been alerted of your whereabouts, a clear ploy to lure him back to his master, there would be no use for you anymore. They don't know Cazador like he did, and he was sure that by the time they reached their destination, you would be no more.

Stil, he's willing to take any chance he can get to get you back. No use in proclaiming you dead if he hasn't seen you, and he'd be damned if he let Cazador take any more from him.

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