#astarion x m!tav

[snowfolly]

SMOOCH

Bluesky | ao3

[moonselune]

oh nooo, tavs tent got flooded by rain ans now theyre forced to share a bed with someone! can i rq a one bed troupe with male tav with karlach, wyll, astarion, halsin?

oh noooo how could this happen??

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The storm rolled in unexpectedly, drenching the camp in a relentless downpour. You were still trying to salvage what you could when a deafening crack of thunder shook the ground, sending the rivers of rainwater cascading directly into your tent. By the time you managed to crawl out, sputtering and soaked, your belongings were hopelessly waterlogged.

Karlach, of course, was there to witness your predicament. She jogged over, her broad grin illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning.

“Rough night, huh, soldier?” she teased, shaking her head at the state of your tent.

You groaned, wringing out your shirt. “You could say that. Looks like I’m going to be sleeping under the stars tonight—well, under the rain, more like.”

“Nonsense!” Karlach’s voice was as warm as the heat radiating from her. She slapped a hand on your shoulder, the gesture surprisingly gentle. “You can bunk with me. My tent’s dry, and, uh, let’s just say I come with central heating.”

The thought made your stomach twist with equal parts relief and trepidation. Sharing a tent—no, a bed—with Karlach? The woman you’d been nursing an embarrassingly obvious crush on for weeks? Your throat went dry despite the rain drenching you.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

She cut you off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll freeze to death out here otherwise. Let’s go.”

Her tent was modest but well-kept, and most importantly, dry. You hesitated at the entrance, dripping onto the canvas floor. Karlach turned, hands on her hips, and raised a brow.

“Get in here before you catch something, will ya?” She rummaged through her belongings, tossing a dry blanket your way. “Strip out of that wet stuff and wrap yourself up. I’ll, uh, look the other way if you’re shy.”

You managed a weak laugh, your heart thudding in your chest as you turned your back to her. Peeling off your soaked clothes felt awkward under her presence, even though she kept her word and busied herself adjusting the bedroll. Once you were as dry as you could get, you turned around, clutching the blanket like a shield.

Karlach motioned to the bedroll, sitting down and patting the spot beside her. “Come on. I don’t bite... unless you ask nicely.”

Her teasing tone was lighthearted, but it didn’t stop your face from burning as you awkwardly settled beside her. The proximity was unavoidable; the bedroll wasn’t made for two people. Your shoulder brushed against hers, and despite the chill of the rain, her warmth seeped through the thin blanket you shared.

“You’re shivering,” she said, her voice softening. “Hang on.”

Before you could protest, Karlach shifted closer, wrapping her arm around you. The heat from her infernal heart radiated through her skin, chasing away the chill almost instantly. It was overwhelming—comforting, yes, but also intensely intimate.

“You’re like a living furnace,” you muttered, trying to sound casual despite the way your pulse hammered in your ears.

She laughed, a sound that was equal parts amusement and kindness. “Perks of the infernal engine, huh? You should take advantage of it. No sense in freezing when you’ve got me around.”

The words were innocent enough, but the tension in the air was anything but. Every small movement felt magnified—the way her arm lingered around your shoulders, the way her breath tickled your neck when she laughed. You could swear she noticed your nervousness because her fingers gave your arm a small squeeze, grounding you.

For a while, you sat in companionable silence, the sound of the rain pattering against the tent mingling with the steady hum of Karlach’s warmth. But the tension remained, unspoken and heavy.

“You’re awfully quiet,” she said eventually, tilting her head to look at you. Her voice was low, almost hesitant.

“Just... thinking,” you managed, cursing yourself for how obvious your voice sounded.

Her brow furrowed, her expression softening. “You’re not still worried about being a bother, are you? Because if you are—”

“No!” you blurted, turning to face her. You realized too late how close you were, your noses almost brushing. Your voice caught in your throat, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Her gaze flicked between your eyes and your lips, something unspoken passing through her expression. But then she smiled—gentle, teasing, and yet somehow protective. “You’re really something, you know that?”

The moment stretched, and your heart thundered in your chest. You weren’t sure what would’ve happened if she hadn’t leaned back, breaking the tension.

“Get some sleep,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’ll keep you warm.”

As you lay down beside her, her arm still draped around you, you couldn’t help but think about how much you wanted to stay like this forever. It was comforting, yes, but it was also maddening—being so close to her, feeling her heat, and yet knowing the line between you remained unspoken.

But for now, you let yourself savor the moment, even if it left you yearning for something more.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The storm came out of nowhere, drenching the camp in sheets of rain so thick you could barely see beyond your own hands. You’d thought your tent was secure, but the deluge proved you wrong. By the time you realized the rain was seeping in, it was too late—your bedroll was soaked, your belongings waterlogged. Swearing under your breath, you tried to salvage what you could, shivering in the cold.

“Oh, darling,” Astarion’s lilting voice rang out from the shadows, cutting through the sound of the rain. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?”

You turned to see him leaning against a nearby tree, his arms crossed, an infuriating smirk playing on his lips. Despite the weather, he looked immaculate, as always, his pale skin almost glowing against the dark backdrop of the storm.

“My tent flooded,” you muttered, trying not to sound as miserable as you felt.

Astarion’s smirk widened as he sauntered closer, looking you up and down with a mockingly critical eye. “My, my, such a pitiful sight. You’re dripping like a wet dog. And here I thought you’d have more... dignity.”

You shot him a glare, though your teeth chattering probably undermined the effect. “Unless you’re here to help, Astarion, maybe keep walking.”

“Help?” He placed a hand dramatically on his chest, feigning offense. “Darling, I’m not in the business of charity. But... I suppose I could take pity on you, just this once. After all, I’m nothing if not magnanimous.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” he drawled, leaning in closer, his crimson eyes glinting with mischief, “you’re welcome to my tent. Though, I must warn you, it comes with a price.”

“What price?”

He tapped a finger against his lips, pretending to think. “Hmm... let’s see. Enduring my company, for one. My delightful teasing, for another. And, of course, you’ll have to control yourself. Sharing close quarters with someone as devastatingly attractive as me? Quite the challenge, no?”

You flushed, heat creeping up your neck despite the cold. “I’ll manage.”

Astarion’s tent was—unsurprisingly—pristine. The interior was lit with a soft glow from a single lantern, casting flickering shadows on the canvas walls. His bedroll was luxurious compared to yours, layered with thick blankets and pillows that looked far too indulgent for a camp in the wilderness.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing grandly. “And by that, I mean don’t ruin anything.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious as you stepped inside. Your wet clothes clung to you, and you were acutely aware of every move you made. Astarion, of course, noticed.

“Oh, do take those off,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ll freeze otherwise, and I’m not about to have you shivering all over me all night.”

“I’m fine—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he interrupted, already digging through his belongings. He tossed you a dry shirt and a blanket. “Here. Change. I’ll avert my eyes, though it’s hardly necessary.”

Your face burned as you turned your back to him, peeling off your soaked clothes and quickly pulling on the shirt he’d given you. It was soft, and it smelled faintly of him—a mix of something earthy and rich, with a hint of sweetness.

When you turned back around, Astarion was already lounging on the bedroll, propped up on one elbow, watching you with a smug expression.

“You clean up nicely,” he remarked, patting the spot beside him. “Now, come along. Let’s get this over with before you catch your death.”

Reluctantly, you sat down, pulling the blanket over yourself. The space was tight, and you couldn’t avoid brushing against him as you lay down. His body was cool, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine—not from the cold, but from the unspoken tension that hung between you like a storm cloud.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“Not really,” you muttered, though that was a lie.

He chuckled, his breath brushing against your ear. “I can feel your pulse racing, you know. Are you nervous, darling? Or is it just... me?”

You turned your head to glare at him, only to realize how close he was—his face mere inches from yours, his crimson eyes glinting with something unreadable. Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world outside the tent seemed to disappear.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “I’m only teasing. Mostly.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. “This is going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

Astarion grinned, his fangs catching the light. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Despite his teasing, he shifted slightly, giving you a bit more space. The tension between you remained, unspoken but palpable, as the rain continued to patter against the tent. It was both maddening and exhilarating, being so close to him, knowing he could probably hear every erratic beat of your heart.

Eventually, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with you. As you started to drift off, you felt him shift beside you, his voice a quiet murmur in the dark.

“Sleep well, darling,” he said, his tone surprisingly sincere.

And despite everything—despite the teasing, the tension, and the racing thoughts that refused to quiet—you did.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The rain had started as a drizzle, an annoyance more than anything, but by midnight it had turned into a full-blown storm. You’d woken to the sound of water pooling under your bedroll, the fabric of your tent flapping wildly in the wind. It didn’t take long to realize your tent wasn’t holding up—water seeped in through every seam, soaking everything in its path.

Soaked and miserable, you stumbled into the camp’s common area, clutching your blanket and trying not to curse the heavens too loudly. That’s when Wyll, ever the gentleman, emerged from his own tent, lantern in hand.

“You look like a drowned rat,” he teased gently, his voice warm despite the storm.

“My tent flooded,” you muttered, feeling like a fool as you wrung out your blanket.

Wyll’s brow furrowed in concern, and he quickly stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You can’t stay out here in this. Come, share my tent. It’s dry, and there’s enough room for both of us.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

“I insist,” Wyll interrupted, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’d never leave a friend out in this storm.”

Wyll’s tent was cozy, far better maintained than yours. The interior was neat and organized, his bedroll lined with extra blankets that gave it an almost luxurious appearance. A small lantern cast a warm glow, the storm muffled by the sturdy canvas walls.

“Here,” he said, gesturing to the bedroll. “You take the left side.”

You hesitated, feeling a little self-conscious as you stepped inside. Your clothes clung to you, damp and uncomfortable, and you were acutely aware of the unspoken tension between the two of you. Wyll had always been kind, always so composed, but there was something about the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second too long that made your heart race.

“You’re shivering,” he observed, pulling a dry blanket from his pack. “Get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death.”

You flushed, your mind immediately racing to places it shouldn’t. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your teeth were chattering.

Wyll raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. “Fine, is it? If you fall ill, it’s on my conscience. Here.” He turned his back, giving you privacy as he busied himself with the lantern. “I promise I won’t peek.”

Reluctantly, you stripped out of your wet clothes, replacing them with the spare shirt and pants Wyll handed you. The fabric was soft and warm, and it smelled of him—a subtle mix of cedarwood and something earthy, like freshly turned soil.

When you finally settled onto the bedroll, Wyll joined you, keeping a respectful distance. But the space was tight, and no matter how you tried to position yourself, you couldn’t avoid brushing against him.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Yeah,” you murmured, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

The storm raged on outside, but inside the tent, the air was thick with an entirely different kind of tension. You were hyper-aware of every little movement, every rustle of the blankets, every time his arm brushed against yours.

“You’re still shivering,” Wyll said after a moment.

“I’m fine—”

“You’re not,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “Here.” Before you could protest, he shifted closer, draping the blanket over both of you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Body heat. It’s the fastest way to warm up.”

Your breath hitched as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. He was so close, his scent enveloping you, his touch sending shivers down your spine for an entirely different reason now. You were just glad you were facing away from him for less than gentlemanly reasons.

“Better?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice.

The minutes stretched on, the storm outside fading into the background as the tension between you grew. Every time his hand shifted against your shoulder, every time his breath brushed against your temple, it sent your thoughts spiraling.

At one point, you turned your head slightly, only to find his face inches from yours. His dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt charged, every unspoken feeling hovering just out of reach. Wyll was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat and pulling back slightly.

“You should get some rest,” he said, his voice a little too even, as though he were trying to mask his own thoughts.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely audible. “Good idea.”

But sleep didn’t come easily. Not with the way his arm stayed draped over your shoulders, his warmth seeping into you, his presence so close it was almost overwhelming.

As the storm began to wane, the tension in the tent softened, replaced by a quiet comfort. And though neither of you said anything more, you couldn’t help but wonder if Wyll felt the same way you did—that unspoken pull, the lingering desire that neither of you dared to yet acknowledge.

For now, though, it was enough to simply be near him, the storm outside forgotten as you drifted off to the sound of his steady breathing, wrapped in his warm, strong arms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The storm that swept through camp hit with an intensity no one had anticipated. Rain lashed against the tents, and your own—already a little worse for wear—didn’t stand a chance. You woke to water pooling around you, your belongings soaked, and your blankets utterly useless. Grumbling, you gathered what you could and sloshed through the camp to find somewhere dry.

Halsin’s tent stood out, sturdy and secure against the storm, its entrance softly illuminated by a warm glow. You hesitated for a moment before calling out.

“Halsin? You awake?”

The flap of the tent opened, revealing the towering figure of the druid, his expression immediately softening when he saw your drenched form. “Your tent couldn’t withstand the storm?”

“No,” you admitted, shivering slightly. “Do you mind if I...?”

“Of course,” he said with a reassuring smile, stepping aside to let you in.

Halsin’s tent was everything yours wasn’t: dry, spacious, and undeniably cozy. The thick pelts lining the floor and the earthy, woodsy scent made it feel like a sanctuary. The warmth inside hit you immediately, and you realized it wasn’t just from the well-insulated tent—it was Halsin himself. He radiated heat like a furnace, the air around him almost stiflingly warm.

“You can set your things over there,” he said, gesturing to a corner before kneeling to adjust the blankets on his bedroll. “And don’t worry, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

You tried not to overthink that last part as you settled in, draping a dry blanket over your shoulders. But as the rain continued to hammer against the tent, the unspoken tension between you became almost palpable. You’d always felt a certain pull toward Halsin—his kindness, his strength, the way he carried himself with such quiet confidence. Sharing a space with him now, so close, was enough to make your heart race.

“Warm enough?” he asked, his voice low and soothing as he settled onto the bedroll beside you.

“More than enough,” you said, trying to sound casual, though the heat radiating from him felt almost overwhelming.

The silence stretched between you, comfortable at first but quickly giving way to that same tension. You couldn’t help but notice the way Halsin shifted slightly, as though trying to find a position that didn’t discomfort him. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked almost... uneasy.

“Is everything okay?” you asked softly, turning to face him. “If this is too much, I can—”

“No, no,” he interrupted, chuckling quietly. “It’s not that. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. I just...” He hesitated, his cheeks darkening slightly, which was rare for someone so self-assured.

“What is it?” you pressed, your curiosity piqued. Halsin exhaled a laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m not used to sleeping with clothes on,” he admitted, his voice laced with amusement but also honesty. “It’s a little... restrictive.”

You blinked, his words sinking in as your mind instantly spiraled into dangerous territory.

“Oh,” you managed, your voice embarrassingly high-pitched with a voice crack that could rival teenage you.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t...” he started, but you quickly shook your head.

“No, it’s fine! I mean, you should be comfortable,” you said, your words tumbling over each other in your attempt to sound unaffected.

Halsin gave you a knowing smile, his eyes glinting with that same warmth that seemed to envelop the entire tent. “You’re kind to say so, but I think I’ll manage for one night.”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something you’d regret. The unspoken tension thickened as the storm continued to rage outside, the sound of the rain mingling with the steady rhythm of Halsin’s breathing.

The heat he radiated wasn’t just physical—it was in the way his presence seemed to fill the space, in the way his voice lingered in the air, deep and comforting. You found yourself hyper-aware of every movement, every shift of the blankets, every time his arm brushed against yours.

“Try to rest,” Halsin murmured, his voice low and velvety. “The storm will pass by morning.”

You nodded again, lying back and trying to focus on anything but the warmth of his body so close to yours, or the way your heart seemed to pound louder with each passing second.

And though sleep didn’t come easily, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude for the storm that had brought you here, to this moment, even if it left you feeling like you were on the edge of something both thrilling and terrifying.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was so fun to write, it came out more gn, but i did my best to do allusions that it was a male tav. Hope you guys enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

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[elfyelation]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | oneshot

pairing—astarion x m!tav summary—when tav falls ill, everyone at camp is surprised to find that astarion is intent on staying by his side until he’s better warnings—illness, mention of poison, soft astarion, worried astarion, worried party, hurt/comfort, extensive use of pet names, super soft, extreme fluff word count—754 rating—teen note—this is entirely self-indulgent because i’ve been really ill this past week (thanks covid) and the whole time i was thinking about how astarion would comfort tav if he was hurt/sick so i came up with the idea for this

“How is he?” he asks and for what might be the first time, she can hear sincerity in his voice.

“Better,” the cleric sighed, “He’s getting better but he’ll still need some time to recover. You can sit with him but if I see those fangs of yours anywhere near him—”

Astarion rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "I assure you, Shadowheart, my intentions are far from what you seem to believe. I would never harm Tav. Surely that much has become clear to you by now?"

The sceptical half-elf hummed, “I suppose he will be safe enough for now. Even if your concern for him was a lie I doubt you’d want to risk sucking up any poison that might still be loitering in his veins.”

He knew she had every right to be distrusting of him, especially when it came to Tav’s safety. He only hoped one day they would all finally see just how much Tav really meant to him. That his feelings weren’t a lie. Until then, he’d have to make do with their concern over their friend and his questionable taste in partners.

“A… Astarion?” His weak voice croaked out the moment the vampire spawn ducked inside the tent.

Tav was laying on the blankets, his body completely sweat-ridden as his face contorted with discomfort. He was in still pain, still so vulnerable.

Astarion was by his side in an instant, his cold hands reaching out to gently touch his lover’s forehead. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m here. I’m right here.”

The cool touch of his hand was welcome as it immediately began to cool Tav’s fever. Gale had already expressed his suspicion that it would do as much. There certainly were at least a few perks of being undead.

“Let’s cool you down, shall we?” He wasted no time removing his shirt before crawling down beside his lover. One strong arm gently wrapped around Tav and pulled him closer, hoping that the coldness of his skin would help ease at least some of the pain.

Tav's laboured breaths finally began to slow as he nestled into the embrace, finding solace in the chill of Astarion's body. His fingers wrapped themselves around the cool arm around him, pulling it closer to his chest.

The vampire spawn chuckled against his ear. “Easy, little love, I’m not going anywhere.” His fingers traced delicate patterns on Tav's forehead, willing the fever to subside.

Outside the tent, Shadowheart kept a close eye on the pair and, in doing so, her initial scepticism gradually gave way to a begrudging acceptance of the vampire's genuine concern. She couldn't deny the tenderness she saw in Astarion's eyes as he cared for their companion. It was a side of him she hadn't seen before. A side of him she hadn’t even known was there.

Maybe it wasn’t just about self preservation or sexual desire. Just maybe he truly did care for Tav. She never thought love was something he was capable of but the longer she watched them, the more she realised just how wrong she had been.

Soon enough, his lover was sound asleep in his arms. Sleeping without a sign of pain or discomfort. It was the first time he’d slept properly since his affliction which meant Shadowheart was right, he was getting better.

“You know, you really scared me for a moment there. I… I thought I was going to lose you. I don’t want to go through that again.”

He spoke despite knowing there was no one to hear him. Speaking to a sleeping lover who, as if on instinct, rolled over to snuggle closer into him.

"I'll protect you with everything I have, my love," Astarion murmured, "I promise you that. You mean more to me than I ever thought possible." He knew that Tav couldn't hear him, but the words were as much for himself as they were for his lover.

Astarion had always been a creature of darkness, bound by instinct and desire. Forced to do his cynical master’s bidding. Yet, in Tav's presence, he had found a glimmer of something different, something more profound. It was a love he never thought he deserved, but now that he had it, he would do anything to defend it.

And so, beneath the starlit sky, Astarion held Tav close, vowing silently to cherish every moment they had together, determined to prove that his love was not just words but a promise to protect and endure, no matter the cost.

[chaoticbardlady99]

CW: descriptions of violence, angst (I think)

Astarion holds your face, your now ruby red eyes shedding tears as you stare back at him. He wishes this blasted gate wasn’t keeping you away from him.

You had disappeared suddenly while exploring the Sewers- all of you had split up to look for parts of Dribbles the Clown.

You, unfortunately, stumbled upon Cazador’s dungeon and he changed you.

Astarion wouldn’t have known you were down here if Violet hadn’t goaded him earlier that night- sneering at him when he said he would “ascend them all”.

“Oh really,” she smiled maliciously at him, “even though it means sacrificing that ‘Darling’ of yours?”

Astarion swallows the thick dread in his throat as he follows the freshly carved runes into your chin and neck. This was not what Astarion had meant when he wanted eternity with you. He assumed it would be with him changing you- it would have been a gentle start to your new life as a Vampire Spawn- it shouldn’t have happened like this.

The rest of the sacrifices weighed on the more moral part of him heavily, but you? Losing you would be all consuming.

“Star,” you whisper, “Star, please look at me.”

Astarion can barely get himself to look back into your eyes. You are still the most beautiful person he has ever seen, met, or even been allowed to be in the presence of. Gods, he loves you. Sometimes he looks at you and thinks maybe they did answer his prayers.

“I understand,” you say with a soft smile, “do what will make you happy.”

When the sentence clicks in his head- it stuns him. How could he ever be happy without you? How is that even a question?

But what other choices does he have? The only way he’ll be able to free you is if he releases all 7,000 vampire spawn- that sounds like a horrible idea for multiple reasons. He can’t see through his own tears.

“Darling-“

“I love you, Astarion,” you say through a choked smile, “I am eternally yours- in any plane- and I am so so so proud of you.”

“Astarion,” Shadowheart warns, “we need to go, there are more creatures showing up.”

You place a kiss on the palm of your hand before placing it back to his cheek- your tears are even stronger now, but you keep smiling at him. Reassuring him that it’s okay- you only want him to be happy.

The fight with Cazador barely registers to Astarion. The man started by saying terrible things to him, but not even that mattered anymore.

Astarion is so infuriated, enraged, numb that he tackles Cazador while the man won’t stop getting high off his own fumes.

Astarion stabs the man over and over and over again- his own screams getting lost in the chaos of the others killing the Undead Creatures surrounding them.

His unbeating heart feels like it’s been sliced into a million bits. Astarion’s entire world has been undone by this horrible, wretched, piece of shit man.

First, he took Astarion’s life.

Second, he took his autonomy.

Third, Cazador took you away from Astarion.

You- the first person in the entire world to show him kindness and support. You have saved him from himself and the world over and over again. You stayed even when he tricked you. You’ve been patient with him and you love him for him- not just his body- and Cazador took that away from him.

The first person he has ever fallen in love with.

Cazador is barely recognizable by the time Astarion allows him to go back to his coffin.

It’s the longest moment of Astarion’s life- he says everything he wants to say, he even tells Cazador he is ascending in his place. Astarion is so full of adrenaline and rage he isn’t even thinking.

“Ha! You are no better than me, boy,” Cazador goads, “you would sacrifice that stupid fool who supposedly loves you? The only reason they are even in there- even a lowly Spawn- is because they refused to tell me where you were.

“What a horrible way to die, but what a fitting ending for your only love, you pathetic runt.”

No it isn’t.

It’s not a fitting ending.

You deserve to live more of your life and- if he’s being honest with himself- Astarion never wants to live without you. He had to do that for 239 years and he’s not about to do that for an eternity more.

So he kills Cazador and then releases the spawn, but he’s quickly pushing past all 7,000 spawn and right to you- you barely made it to the threshold of your prison when he’s tackling you to the ground.

“I love you too,” Astarion whispers into the crook of your neck, “and I am eternally yours.”

[synabunart]

@bunnidarling 's Tav, Averyll Springheart! To see the full version of Astarion "smashing that cake like a toddler at their birthday party", go to Bluesky or Twitter ! 🎂

[solmesia]

as much as i like halsin, your tav x astarion just hits different. when will they be together again 😔

my hyperfixations shift to both of his boyfriends but i appreciate you appreciating Saraqael

[jadewing-realms]

trying to bring my art muse back from the dead now that i'm finally recovering from la concussion. first rule of thumb in strengthening muse that i've learned over the past year... follow the serotonin.

[rielzero]

I love the light in some of these scenes.

Anyway.. Nice way to fill up this sketchbook! Just doodling like this. Helps me practice facial expressions and angles too. I love the Astarion ones the most, tbh.

Think I'm making some improvement to how to draw Gale here, its been bothering me for a bit, I feel like I draw his eyes too big in the comic, and I could do his hair better.

My sketchbook is now finally finished!

I still have a lot of old screenshots I could clean up, so I might be doing this more often.

[transkingcobra]

Just some smut that I liked the idea for but won't be canon to their story so I decided to make a lil one shot (that got far longer than I thought it would be), only minorly edited because I just wanted to dump it from my brain

Tavstarion x non-romanced Halsin, years post-game

Named Tav - Syvin - male drow sorcerer

Explicit - MDNI

Approx 3.7k words

Syvin is forced to take a vacation for once in his life, and so the drow and his vampire partner decide to finally visit their old friends. Astarion gets an idea when they visit Halsin… 

Astarion smiled, mischief in his eyes as he watched Syvin strip. They were given a decent little room to stay in while they visited their old traveling companion’s community. Astarion feigned annoyance at the idea of coming here, but Syvin could tell he’d enjoy seeing an old friend, even if he couldn’t see much of this place in the daylight. Halsin was overjoyed they made the journey safely. He showed them the fruits of his labor - though he’d never admit just how much effort he put into this place - introducing them to everyone and anyone that they saw. 

“What are you scheming over there?” The drow finished discarding his clothing and sat on the side of the bed. Astarion’s fingers gently traced along his partner’s jaw, down his neck and chest, and along the inside of his thigh. 

“Just thinking, darling.”

“About?”

“Well,” the vampire chuckled, “you fall apart so well under me that I was wondering if you’d even be able to handle someone like Halsin.” Syvin raised an eyebrow at the elf. That’s what he’s thinking about?

“You want to see Halsin have his way with me? After all your jealous fits back home?”

“It was only an idea, love. Although…” Astarion gently rubbed his palm between Syvin’s legs. “If I were to let someone else taste you, I’m sure Halsin would be just fine. Those other wretches didn’t know their place, wanted to take you from me.” 

“Mm, is that all? Are you sure you don’t want to taste Halsin, too?” 

“I was only thinking about seeing how utterly destroyed you could get, but, well, the bear surely has stamina enough for two if you’d like a view as well, darling.” Syvin was only teasing, but, while the response didn’t share any desire to actually be with Halsin, Astarion wasn’t dismissing it. It made the drow think for a moment. He lay down and the vampire crawled over him.

“Do you actually want to? See me under Halsin, that is.” He didn’t want Astarion to feel like he had to be involved - he knew the elf still struggled with falling into old habits, and certainly having sex with Halsin to please Syvin would put him in such a performative headspace. He could join if he wished, but Syvin wouldn’t make him nor suggest it further than the original teasing. In all honesty, thinking about watching Astarion get off to him being destroyed by another was already arousing. Staring at his love, watching him pleasuring himself, Syvin getting more than he bargained for, probably struggling to keep his head up and eyes open, but Halsin pulling on his hair to lift his head while Astarion demands his gaze.

“Well, darling, it certainly seems you want me to,” the vampire chuckled at the drow’s excitement growing between them. “It would certainly make this visit more interesting.” Astarion started grinding slowly against his love, earning a low moan. “If you’d want to, love, we can see if Halsin can push your limits.”

—

The next night, after much teasing from the vampire all day, Astarion found Halsin when he was finally alone. Syvin of course came along so the big bear would know they were both asking, both interested in such plans. 

“It almost seems as though you’re giving me a challenge, Astarion,” Halsin chuckled in response to the request. 

“Well, if you think you’re not up to the task…” 

“I did not say that. I will gladly join the two of you tonight.” The way Halsin looked at Syvin when he spoke went straight between the drow’s legs. He had never thought about bedding Halsin the entirety of their journey together nor afterwards, but, with Astarion’s idea, he was unable to stop thinking about being overpowered by the large elf all day. The confirmation it was going to happen made things worse - thankfully he wouldn’t be waiting long.

Halsin invited the couple back to his own home. It was a simple place, but had a bed big and sturdy enough for the three of them and they’d be less likely to disturb others’ rest. Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, ready to watch the two of them strip down.

“Anything I should know before we begin?” Halsin used one hand to start lifting Syvin’s shirt, the other reached between his legs while he kissed the drow’s neck right where Astarion usually fed. There were no marks anymore, but the two knew the druid had remembered when he began to nibble and lick the spot. Syvin shuddered. There was no way he was surviving this.

“Well for starters, you’re about to see a very different Syvin. The big, strong general turns into a moaning mess once he’s under a man.” Astarion knew his partner had been thinking about this scenario all day. No one else here would have noticed - he kept it under wraps pretty well - but there was just enough restlessness, just enough submissiveness for the vampire to notice exactly where his drow’s mind was. Poor thing was getting himself all worked up and now Halsin’s teasing near immediately had Syvin’s mind in a haze. 

“I had assumed that was the goal if not the normal occurrence.”

“Very much so. And you can ignore any protests unless he mentions ‘Gale’s cooking,’ that truly means he needs to stop.”

“Was it truly so bad?” Halsin chuckled as he removed Syvin’s shirt. 

“No, but thinking about Gale certainly pulls us out of the mood.” Syvin started to reach down to remove his pants, but Halsin took over instead - happily being the one to reveal the rest of his body. 

“I see.” The druid’s eyes soaked in the view for a moment before he finally stripped himself - far quicker than what he did for Syvin. The sorcerer stared back now - he was on the taller end for an elf let alone a drow, Halsin was well beyond such expectations, and now Syvin was about to feel that difference.

Astarion moved back to sit against the headboard, patting the bed in front of him.

“Come here, darling. I want to see your face while our dear friend has his way with you.” Syvin obeyed, crawling over to Astarion - his face for his partner, his ass for Halsin. The vampire cradled his face gently as the drow kissed hungrily, the two feeling the bed shift as Halsin joined them. 

Large, callused hands groped at Syvin’s ass, spreading him open before a tongue pressed against his entrance. The drow gasped lightly into Astarion’s mouth as Halsin pushed inside even slightly.

“Darling, you truly do fall apart so easily. Are you sure you can handle the dear bear?”

“Mm… I can,” Syvin groaned, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Ah ah, look at me. Let me see how well he takes you apart.” Astarion held his love by the chin. Syvin forced his eyes back open, just as Halsin pulled away. “Good.” But soon Halsin’s tongue was replaced with an oiled finger. Halsin was slow yet firm in his intrusion - the size difference between Astarion and Halsin already apparent and forcing a shaky breath out of the drow.

“Too fast?”

“N-no… Bigger start- nm, than I’m used to, is all.” 

“Take your time. Let me know when you’re ready for another.” Halsin gently fingered the sorcerer, certain to push directly on his prostate every pass. 

“You’re far too sweet to him, little honey bear. He may be a slight mess already, but he can handle far more. Where’s that vicious cave bear we traveled with?” Astarion teased with a hunger in his eyes. He wouldn’t mind seeing Syvin slowly unravel - but he could do that himself at home. He wanted to make sure Halsin understood the point of this - they wanted that bear to tear Syvin apart in all the best ways. He could do that after a gentle stretching, but Astarion was more in the mood to push his partner. 

“Well, if you insist…” The second finger stretching him further already made Syvin arch his back in response. “Eager, aren’t you,” Halsin teased as Syvin began to push back on his fingers, matching his pace. 

Before the drow could finish himself off, the fingers were removed. Syvin groaned in disapproval, looking back over his shoulder when they weren’t replaced soon enough. Halsin sat back on his heels, stroking himself but making no move to continue yet.

“Waiting for something?” There was a small sting of annoyance in Syvin’s words. 

“Letting you calm for a moment. I am not blind to how close you made yourself on my fingers alone, and I do not think Astarion wants his view to end so soon.” Halsin’s response earned a chuckle from the vampire.

“Love, I do think you’re in for it tonight.” 

Syvin had taken many kinds of men throughout the centuries. It had been decades since he felt a man other than Astarion, let alone one as big as Halsin. It remained to be seen how rough the bear would be, but he had handled the others just fine before. Yet, even the biggest and the roughest couldn’t compare to what he already felt and knew would be coming. His partner before him, his greatest love, had made sex far more than just getting off, just a distracting form of stress relief. With Astarion, it had actually become something fun, something enjoyable beyond the orgasm. With Astarion, he truly understood why people considered it “making love.” And with Astarion, even being shared with an old friend was fun and exciting - he didn’t feel at all like he used to when using others to reach his climax. 

Syvin brought a hand up to caress Astarion’s cheek, leaning into him for a deep, slow kiss. He soon heard Halsin shifting behind him. Please… Large hands firmly held his hips. Finally… Instead of pushing into him, though, Halsin pulled the drow’s hips back, slowly removing the partners’ lips from each other. Astarion didn’t protest - it gave him a perfect view of how Syvin’s face contorted in pleasure as the bear bottomed out, making the sorcerer lower his hand to grip onto the vampire’s shoulder. Astarion gently pried him loose and put his hand back down onto the bed.

“Careful with that grip of yours, darling. We’re breaking you tonight, not me.” The vampire softly played with Syvin’s hair before he lowered his head into Astarion’s lap with a groan. 

“Are you alright, Syvin?” Halsin spoke in an almost teasing manner. He always did want to be certain his partners were enjoying themselves and would certainly change things up or outright stop if they weren’t. But he knew Syvin was okay between the lack of a safe word and Astarion’s joyfully watching eyes, and it seemed both elves enjoyed pointing out just how much he reacted to every small change.

“Halsin…” The name came out breathy, strained between his fullness and excitement of what was to come.

“Yes?”

“Fuckin’ move already.” Syvin pulled himself together to speak the demand fairly normally, but the elves could tell it was more of a plea and both chuckled.

“As you wish.” 

Halsin pulled almost completely out and left Syvin feeling empty, but it only lasted a moment. The bear’s bruising grip on the drow’s hip gave him hardly any warning before he was mercilessly pounded into. Hands grabbed at the sheets as he moaned desperate cries into Astarion’s lap.

The vampire slowly managed to lift Syvin’s head to see his face and fully hear his sounds. It had been a beautiful sight from the start, seeing his love stripped, bent over, and pleasured all while being able to not only hear but also see how he enjoyed it. But now, now that Halsin was showing off one pleasurable use for all those muscles, now that the bed shook and Syvin’s body shuddered with every impact, Astarion was starting to feel the need to fully join them. 

“I can’t- I can’t-”

“You can. You’re taking him well, darling. Look at me.” The pale elf gently rubbed a thumb across Syvin’s cheek as he opened his eyes. Astarion’s bright, red eyes, soft yet hungry. His smile just barely revealing his fangs. His soft curls swaying with the movement of the bed. “You can take more, can’t you? For me, love?” The request sent a shiver down the drow’s body.

“Astari- ngh-!” The impact of Syvin’s orgasm forced his head back down into his partner’s lap, hands wrapping around Astarion’s waist, toes curling, all while Halsin kept his relentless pace. “I can’t! I can’t, I can’t - I can’t-” 

“Don’t you dare stop now, druid,” Astarion commanded as he saw the slightest hesitation in Halsin’s movements. “He knows how to stop us if he truly needs it. Don’t you, darling?” Syvin only responded with a louder moan and tighter grip on the vampire. Did Halsin just get faster? Good gods, Syvin was not going to be walking come morning…

“Xsa- ah! Vith uns’aa… Usstan- ngh!” 

“Well now, that’s certainly new. Halsin feeling that good, love?” The vampire trailed a hand along Syvin’s arched back. The words coming out of his mouth surprised the drow just as much as it did the others, and yet they surprisingly weren’t unwelcome. He’d normally only speak Drow out of sheer necessity anymore, which was a rare occurrence, but being so overwhelmed by Halsin that he fucked him back into speaking his first language made for a fun discovery. 

Just as Syvin was beginning to think he may genuinely need a break, Halsin’s pace faltered. The large elf nearly growled in pleasure as his hot seed filled the sorcerer. Halsin paused a moment to catch his breath, panting over the two before he leaned down and kissed Syvin between his shoulder blades. 

“You held on well, Syvin.” Halsin slowly pulled himself out of the drow. It was only when he finally let go of Syvin’s hips did the sorcerer realize he was mostly being held up by the bear, not his own legs. His thighs shook and Halsin quickly held him again, gently guiding him to lie down fully. “You may wish to take it easy tomorrow. Rest your body and your voice.” 

Syvin only groaned in response.

“Love, we are here for you to relax for once. I’ll tie you to the bed if I have to.”

“Promise?” Syvin chuckled. The spawn was stronger without the tadpole, but so was the drow. The occasional powerplay had been met with broken furniture on more than one occasion. Syvin rolled over slightly, looking up into those bright red eyes as Halsin moved to sit beside them. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Hm…” Astarion played with one of Syvin’s braids.

“What is it?” 

“My dear bear, do you think you have another round in you tonight?”

“Ah,” Halsin chuckled lightly at the question, “give me some time and we can certainly go again. If Syvin is alright with it.” 

“Gods, the two of you really are out to ruin me tonight.” The drow wasn’t about to protest going at it again, but he was fairly certain he wouldn’t survive this time around.

“Yes, that was the idea for tonight, darling.” Syvin adjusted himself so he could sit up enough to kiss the vampire. A hand at first fell softly on Astarion’s clothed erection before rubbing him through his pants. The elf moaned slightly at the sudden attention before attempting to compose himself. “Need something?” Syvin simply hummed a confirmation as he continued.

“Would you wish to join us this time, Astarion?” There was a new hunger in the druid’s eyes at the thought of taking them both.

“Syvin, darling, do you really think you could handle the both of us?”

“You did say ruining him was the purpose of our adventures here tonight.”

Syvin smiled against the vampire’s lips, lowering slightly to kiss along his jaw and whisper a “please” directly into his ear. 

“Well,” Astarion reached down and pressed a finger to Syvin’s entrance, “it would be fun to see how sensitive you are now, love.” The drow squirmed slightly, pressing up against his partner. “But, I do believe we have an issue.” Syvin sat up a bit at the statement when Astarion removed his hand. “I am still fully dressed, my dears,” the vampire said with a smirk. “That simply won’t do if I am to get between you boys.”

Halsin was hesitant at first, but, once his touches were welcomed, both he and the drow were planting soft kisses across Astarion’s pale skin. They took all the time in the world to make sure every piece of removed clothing was accepted, that Astarion was truly comfortable with being involved instead of simply watching. Syvin gladly stretched out his partner for Halsin, who slowly stroked the vampire resting back against him. 

“Mm, it almost feels like the two of you are preparing to ruin me now.”

“I can be gentle with you.” The druid’s thumb toyed with Astarion’s tip, smearing the drops of precum. 

“If he can handle you, I can handle you, big bear.” 

“Are you sure about that? You’re not usually the one underneath,” Syvin teased.

“Challenging me, darling?” 

“Excited to see how long you last between us, is all.” 

Once the trio was content everyone was ready, Syvin got back on all fours, excitedly displaying himself to his partner. He let out a pleasured sigh as Astarion pushed inside. The vampire leaned forward, wrapping an arm around Syvin’s chest and kissing his shoulder as he gave a few slow thrusts. The drow’s thighs and even arms already felt weak from being back in this position, and his insides were similarly sensitive. On one hand, he hoped the other two didn’t last too long, yet, on the other hand, he would have been perfectly happy to see how much further he can be pushed, this time with his love inside of him. While Astarion lifted himself back upright, Halsin positioned himself at the pale elf’s entrance. 

“Ready, Astarion?” 

“I am not so fragile as to- ahhh!” Being suddenly full cut off the vampire’s thoughts. Syvin’s chuckle was followed by a moan as Astarion slammed forward into him. “You be quiet down there.”

“I’m not certain Syvin is capable of being quiet with someone inside of him,” Halsin teased as he groped the dark grey flesh. 

“I will not be taking that challenge.”

“It was merely an observation,” Halsin chuckled down at him.

“You’d certainly fail the challenge instantly, love.” Astarion started with slow thrusts to get a feel for how best to move between the two of them, earning soft moans from his drow and making a few of his own. Halsin leaned forward some, Astarion feeling a kiss to his shoulder and hearing the druid’s low, breathy grunts in his ear. Soon enough, not only had Astarion picked up the pace, but Halsin was matching his thrusts. His lover before him, an old and trusted friend behind him - the pleasured stimulation from them both was far more than he had expected. “Gods-!” The high elf buried himself deep inside Syvin as he came, Halsin not relenting in the slightest. 

Astarion collapsed onto Syvin, holding him close and moaning into his ear. The drow greatly enjoyed the fact that the vampire finished first - that even as sensitive as he was from his first round with Halsin, he still held out longer. But that little mental victory didn’t last long. Feeling Astarion’s cum and the impact of Halsin’s continued thrusts along with the moans in his ear, it pushed the drow over the edge himself. His thighs shook fiercely, but he somehow managed to keep his ass up for the other two. 

“Love, I need- I-” Astarion propped himself up some, the shift in tone making Syvin pay closer attention and notice he was attempting to pull out.

“Halsin-” The drow reached back and put a hand over Halsin’s on the vampire’s hip. “A moment…” The druid slowed, lifting Astarion and pulling him back against his chest. The pale elf’s head rolled back on Halsin’s shoulder in pleasured exhaustion. Syvin crawled forward a bit to sit up against the headboard, carefully looking over Astarion. “Love, look at me.” 

The vampire leaned his head to the side, resting it in the crook of Halsin’s neck as his eyes fluttered open. There were no performed words, was no distance in his eyes. Syvin held out his arms for his love, Astarion taking them and leaning forward into the drow’s lap as Halsin released him. Knowing the vampire was enjoying himself and seeing their roles reversed from earlier, Syvin gently played with Astarion’s curls. This was going to be a lovely sight.

“Go ahead, Halsin. He said he could handle you.” With the confirmation everything was okay, Halsin grabbed Astarion’s hips and gave him the same treatment as he had given Syvin earlier. It was the high elf’s turn to moan into his drow’s lap, gripping the sheets. 

“I- ngh! Gods- Halsin- I- ah!” Astarion’s failure to form a sentence was met with chuckles.

“You’re doing well, Astarion,” Halsin grunted from behind.

“I can’t-”

“You can, love.” Syvin was all too happy to give him the same dismissal he received earlier. “You can take all of him.” 

Syvin and Halsin both continued their encouragement and praise, the drow keeping close tabs on Astarion’s state. He became shaky, went back and forth between grabbing Syvin and the bedsheets, continued his broken protests, but he was with them and never attempted anything close to their phrase to stop everything. 

Halsin’s relentless pounding finally faltered once more as he unloaded into Astarion. This time when he pulled out, however, he made sure to help Astarion lower onto the bed and not just let go. 

“Did you survive down there, Astarion?”

“Hah… you could have done worse.” 

“I can certainly see why you enjoyed the view so much,” Syvin mused.

“Darling, we are moving your mirror when we get home.” 

The three laughed tiredly as they rested on the bed. After some time, they cleaned up and Halsin retrieved some clean sheets. Syvin and Astarion were certainly not walking anywhere anytime soon. 

[rsxavior]

Concerning Astarion's feet low key based on this

“Fucking hells!” Tav cried out shoving Astarion’s offending appendage away from him. “Why is it always your godsdamn foot!” He scowled. His skin chilled from where it had touched him under the covers.

“It’s your fault really. You should know better than to try and steal that particular blanket from me.” He inched that foot back towards Tav, uncaring that the elf despised it. It was the entire point!

“Oh no! No no no! You keep that away from me! I am trying to rest.” He pushed back against him utilizing the pillow as a shield. “Take your blanket back yourself if it bothers you.”

“I would, my dear, except you’re a veritable thief when resting.”

“Dammit! You could use anything, words, your hands, anything but your cold ass foot!” Tav had enough and had started pelting Astarion with his pillow.

“Truly this is what you are resorting to now? All right, but remember you started this.” His fingers grasped the blanket he desired in question pulling it away from Tav. The sudden movement caused his lover to lose his balance, falling into a heap on their collection of pillows and blankets.

A glower that lacked any malice came over Tav. What followed was nothing short of a chaotic clash of pillows and blankets across Astarion’s tent. The sounds carried across the campsite.

“I swear I’m sleeping in my own tent from now on.”

“Please that is an empty threat as any. Admit it, you adore me too much for that.”

“Will the two of you cease bickering in there? Some of us still require eight hours of fully rest.” Came Gale’s voice, annoyed, from outside the tent.

Astarion and Tav exchanged a glance and their ‘fight’ started anew.

[ Expanded and rewritten here ]

[snowfolly]

So… I went on a trip and, in fact, did not draw Astarion/Tali every damn day of this month

But I’m back with some silly gooses

[moonselune]

I have had a thought.

I was playing bg3, making a sorcerer tav and I saw one of the options was draconic bloodline and it gives your scales on your face.

I thought it was really cool and I was wondering if maybe you could write something about how companions (mainly astarion and halsin) would react to tav having scales. Like imagine when they first met tav covered their face and then boom! Handsome man with dragon scales.

What do you think about it? TOODLES

Draconic sorceror is literally one of my favourite classes and I love to think what the companions would think of the scales (they would all love them)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

When you first met Astarion, you were prepared for the usual reactions: curious stares, uneasy glances, or the rare, but always tiresome, gasp of surprise. After all, dragon scales covering your face were not something most people encountered in their daily lives. The faint, iridescent sheen that danced across your scales in the light often drew attention, and not always the good kind.

But Astarion’s reaction was different. When his eyes first landed on you, there was no trace of fear or discomfort—only fascination. His gaze lingered on your face, his lips curving into a sly smile as he approached you with that effortless grace of his.

“My, my,” he had murmured, his voice low and smooth as silk. “Aren’t you a sight to behold? I’ve seen many things in my time, but nothing quite like you.”

You remember the way he had reached out, as if asking for permission to touch, his fingers hovering just above your skin. When you had nodded, slightly surprised but intrigued, he had traced the contours of your scales with a delicate touch, as though they were made of the finest glass.

“Beautiful,” Astarion had whispered, almost to himself. His eyes had been filled with something akin to awe, and you had felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with your draconic blood. “Absolutely captivating.”

As your relationship deepened -and you became able to trust his honeyed words once more, you found that Astarion’s fascination with your scales only grew. He loved to explore them with his hands, his lips, and his words. On quiet nights, after the day’s battles and struggles were behind you, he would often lie beside you, his eyes fixed on your face with an intensity that made your heart race.

One such evening, you were lying together in your tent, the firelight casting flickering shadows across the walls. The camp was quiet, the others having settled in for the night, leaving you and Astarion in the comforting cocoon of each other’s company.

Astarion’s head rested on your chest, his fingers lazily tracing the lines of your scales. His touch was light, almost reverent, as if he were committing every inch of you to memory. He lifted his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips.

“Have I told you how much I adore these?” he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper as his fingers continued their journey across your face.

“Once or twice,” you replied with a smile, your own voice tinged with amusement. But the truth was, hearing him say it never got old. There was something deeply comforting in the way Astarion admired this part of you that others had often feared or found unsettling.

Astarion chuckled, the sound low and warm, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the edge of your jaw where the scales began. His lips were soft, cool against the warmth of your skin, and he took his time, moving slowly along the line of your scales, kissing each one with care.

You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, a deep sense of peace settling in your chest. His kisses traveled up your cheek, his breath warm against your skin as he continued his slow exploration.

“You are truly magnificent,” he murmured against your temple, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “Every time I look at you, I find something new to fall in love with.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to gently run your fingers through his silver hair, the strands slipping like silk between your fingers.

“I’m glad you think so,” you replied, your voice full of emotion. “Because I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Astarion pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes shining with a mixture of affection and something deeper, something almost possessive.

“You won’t have to,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I’m not going anywhere, my dearest dragon.”

He leaned in to kiss you fully on the lips, his mouth warm and insistent against yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a silent promise that echoed the words he had just spoken. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the tent.

“Now, let’s see if I can find any more scales to admire,” Astarion teased, his playful grin returning as his fingers resumed their exploration, trailing down your neck and across your shoulders. You laughed softly, the sound filled with both amusement and contentment.

“Take your time,” you whispered, your voice laced with affection. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

When you first met Halsin, you could feel his gaze on you the moment you walked into the camp. As a draconic sorcerer, you were no stranger to stares—people often found your dragon scales captivating or intimidating. The scales that adorned your face were a visible mark of your draconic heritage, shimmering with an iridescent hue that caught the light in ways that made them almost seem alive. But Halsin’s gaze wasn’t one of fear or unease. No, his eyes were filled with something deeper, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

Halsin was a man of nature, someone who revered the natural world in all its forms. When he looked at you, it was as though he was seeing a rare and beautiful creature, something that had been crafted by the hands of the gods themselves. His brown eyes, warm and earthy, followed you with a mixture of admiration and a hint of something more—a longing that he tried to suppress, not wanting to come on too strong.

It wasn’t long before the two of you grew closer, your connection deepening with each passing day. Halsin’s reverence for nature extended to his reverence for you, and as your relationship became more established, he no longer held back his admiration for your unique features.

One evening, you were sitting together by the campfire, the warmth of the flames casting a soft glow across the camp. Halsin sat beside you, his large frame a comforting presence. He reached out, his hand hovering near your face, and you could see the hesitance in his eyes, as if he was still unsure whether you were comfortable with such an intimate gesture.

“May I?” he asked, his voice low and full of respect.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Of course, Halsin.”

His hand, large and calloused from years of working with the earth, gently cupped the side of your face. His thumb brushed against the scales that covered your cheek, and a shiver ran down your spine at the tenderness of his touch. Halsin’s eyes were locked onto yours, his expression one of pure adoration.

“Your scales,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe, “are truly magnificent. I’ve seen many wonders in nature, but none as captivating as you.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your heart swelling with affection for the druid who had come to mean so much to you. Halsin’s hand moved slowly, his fingers tracing the contours of your scales as though he were mapping every detail, committing it to memory. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he believed you to be the finest creature nature had ever produced.

“Do you know,” Halsin continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, “that every time I look at you, I am reminded of the power and beauty of the natural world? Your scales are a testament to that—a blend of strength and grace, as all things in nature should be.”

You couldn’t help the flush that rose to your cheeks, though you knew it would be barely noticeable against your scales. Halsin’s words had a way of cutting through any insecurities you might have had, filling you with a sense of pride in who you were and what you represented.

“I’ve always thought of my scales as a reminder of where I come from,” you admitted, your voice soft as you gazed into Halsin’s eyes. “But you make me feel like they’re something more, something to be proud of.”

Halsin smiled then, a warm and gentle expression that made your heart skip a beat. “They are a gift, as are you,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek once more. “A gift from the dragons to the world, and I am honored to be in your presence.”

He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your scales in a series of soft, reverent kisses. Each one sent a thrill through you, a reminder of the deep connection you shared with this man who saw you not just as a sorcerer, but as something truly extraordinary.

As he continued to kiss along the line of your scales, you closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you. Halsin’s touch was grounding, his presence a balm to your soul. He treated you with a respect that went beyond mere affection—it was as though he truly believed you to be the embodiment of nature’s finest work.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, and you could see the depth of his feelings reflected in them.

“You are a wonder,” he said softly, his hand still resting on your cheek. “And I will never tire of telling you so.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch, your heart full to bursting with the love and admiration you felt for this man who had so completely captivated you in return. “And I will never tire of hearing it,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth.

Halsin’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn’t put into words. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the night.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice full of a quiet plea. “Always.”

“Always,” you echoed, your voice full of promise. And as you sat there together, the fire crackling softly beside you, you knew that there was nowhere else you would rather be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Aww some wholesome stuff with Astarion and Halsin, love it. Hope you guys enjoyed it too! - Seluney xox

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

[elfyelation]

Might I request some a sort of drabble for Astarion (male) lover asking him to go slower during sex?

𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | smutshot

pairing—astarion x m!reader warnings—smut, pwp, overstimulation, crying during sex, soft astarion, fluff, top!astarion, botttom!reader, slight teasing word count—359 rating—18+, smut under the cut

He holds you down, slender fingers curling into your skin as he thrusts into you. It had been a while since you’d last been together like this, since he’d even come asking. Whatever had kept him from you seemed to be gone now as he craved an intimate moment with you. Or, perhaps, he just needed to let off some steam.

You tried to speak but his name turned into a moan on your lips as he snapped his hips harshly into you again. It was all too much. Far too much.

He’d been pent up, clearly. So pent up, in fact, that he seemed to feel the need to pound you until you were red raw.

“Please… Astarion…” More moans fell from your lips, accompanied by the tears that began to spill from your eyes, “Slow down…”

Your arm had moved to cover your face which you turned to the side, almost inviting him to take a bite into your succulent neck. His face was buried into your skin almost immediately but the sharp sting of fangs piercing through flesh never came.

Instead, he kissed the skin of your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. With each kiss, the time between each thrust became longer, more stretched out. He was trying so hard to slow down for you.

When he finally managed a slow, steady pace, he lifted his head and reached out and gently lifted your arm so that he could see your face. Then, he kissed the tears away from your eyes, your cheeks.

“Sorry, darling. It’s just been so long since I’ve had a taste of your exquisite body. I believe I got a little carried away. Don’t worry, I won’t let you tear.”

You rolled your eyes at his remark and wrapped your legs around him, pushing him deeper inside you. “Just… slower. Please?”

His lips curled into a smirk and he rolled his hips slowly out and then back into you. His forehead came to rest against your own, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss as he reached between you to toy at the tip of your cock. “Anything for you, my love.”

[heyitsjess-writes]

Death Didn’t Seem Quite so Bad a Fate

Astarion x m!Tav

Word count: 3,591 Rating: T

Sequel - You Brought my Dead Heart Back to Life Warnings: Major character death, it's temporary though, depictions of violence and blood, mild cursing, angst Summary: Death was not a new concept for Astarion. When you’re a vampire spawn and you’ve just helped stopped the world from being dominated by a Netherbrain you have both seen and experienced your fair share of death. Death didn’t seem quite so bad a fate when you have a mysterious, undead being freeloading at your camp. Who, for just a small fee, would resurrect any companion you asked for, no questions asked.

Death was not a new concept for Astarion. When you’re a vampire spawn and you’ve just helped stopped the world from being dominated by a Netherbrain you have both seen and experienced your fair share of death. Death didn’t seem quite so bad a fate when you have a mysterious, undead being freeloading at your camp. Who, for just a small fee, would resurrect any companion you asked for, no questions asked. Or if your lover happened to be a cleric who could bring you back as soon as the battle is over. That worked just as well, too. No, death didn’t seem that bad at all when you had those options in your back pocket. Except now, the Netherbrain had been defeated and their small band of friends and allies had all gone their separate ways to continue on their own adventures. Leaving Astarion and Tav alone to begin their own, together.

Now death was suddenly a very real and very terrifying concept.

-----------------

Shaking, blood covered hands desperately clawed at Tav’s armor, trying to remove it to get to the source of the bleeding. A neck wound was a lovely thing, Astarion mused, when it was caused by him during quiet moments of intimacy. But now, as the clatter of heavy armor being tossed aside filled his ears, the wound on his love’s neck was the last thing he wanted to see. He pressed his hands firmly against the wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. Words started coming out of his mouth, unbidden. Words of comfort, gentle menstruations, telling Tav that everything was fine. The bleeding would slow down, they’d get him all patched up and they could go home. They would come back and look for the ring another day. It was all lies, of course. Pretty lies that he refused to admit. The wound was too deep and too close to the carotid artery. Astarion felt the blood gushing around his fingers, causing his hands to slip as he tried to keep the wound covered as blood pooled on the ground. He heard his love’s labored breathing start to become wet and blood began speckling his lips. Tav’s eyes found Astarion’s, once bright and full of life now glazed and fevered as his life slipped away. Tav’s lips moved, as if he was trying to say something but no sound came. Astarion watched in silent horror as Tav’s eyes lost focus, the last speck of life dimming as his head rolled to the side, body becoming limp under his hands.

A broken scream filled the air as Tav exhaled his final breath.

-----------------

“Is that what you want? Is this what you want? I would understand if you wanted to go your own way,” Astarion asked Tav. The two of them stood in the room Tav still had rented out in the Elfsong Tavern. The Netherbrain had been defeated only a few days prior and the citizens of Baldur’s Gate were still picking up the pieces after their lives were nearly ended by mind flayers and cultists alike.

Moonlight filtered through the curtains as Astarion waited for his partner to answer. The two had met up to talk about their future. What was next for them now that the world wasn’t in immediate peril. They had met under extenuating circumstances, grown closer together through shared trials. Now that the world didn’t need them to travel together Astarion needed to know where they stood, so he asked as much. What was next for the two of them? Tav offered to help look for a way to let Astarion walk in the sun again. To go on another adventure together as partners, equals. There was nothing Astarion wanted more than to stay with him, but he needed to make sure that staying with him is what Tav truly wanted. That he wasn’t staying with him out of some sort of obligation. With the tadpoles gone, Astarion belonged to the shadows once more. He would understand if Tav didn’t want to live that life. Being stuck roaming the streets in the dark of night just because his partner could no longer walk in the light of day.

“No, this is what I want,” Tav replied, a soft smile on his face, holding a hand out. Astarion sighed, letting out the breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding.

“Good, because selfless as I am, I really did not want you let you go,” he said, accepting Tav’s hand, pulling himself forward and wrapping his arms around Tav’s waist. “We are rather excellent together, you know. And united, there is nothing we can’t do. I can’t say what the future holds for us, but I know we’ll be facing it together. And we’re going to have a lot of fun.”

And they did have fun. Amidst all the reading and researching, the traveling and socializing with strangers who know a thing or two about rare artifacts. To following any lead they had, no matter how small, or if it led to a dead end. To the quiet, lazy mornings where they were wrapped in each other’s arms, fingers ghosting across bare skin, soft whispers of love and adoration being the only thing to break the silence. To the long nights full of raw passion, the desire to know and feel each other in the most intimate and sacred ways possible. To be connected body and soul in each other’s embrace and satisfy each other in ways only the other knew how. To simply walking hand-in-hand through the night as they traveled from one town to the next. It was all fun to Astarion. It was new, exciting, something he had never dared to dream about when he was under Cazador’s control. But here he was, free, traveling the world with the first person he has truly cared for. The first person who he has truly loved and who, by some miracle, loved him back. Even if all of their adventuring never bore fruit, if they never found a way to help him walk in the sun again, he wouldn’t trade any of it away for the world.

-----------------

Weeks of adventuring turned into months, months turned into years and they were not any closer to finding an artifact that would let Astarion walk in the sun. Once, they had been on the trail of a very promising artifact, the Cloak of Dragomir. It was last known to be in the possession of a vampire named Hexxat but the leads quickly went cold. It was almost as if she had simply vanished into thin air. Astarion didn’t mind though, while the cloak would have been nice it would not have been the same. He wanted to be able to stand out in the sun, arms stretched wide and soak in the rays as they danced across his skin. The same way he did the morning after his first night with Tav. A cloak would not have allowed him to do that. Astarion expressed as much in bed one morning, after the leads went cold for the cloak and Hexxat alike. Head resting on Tav’s chest as he laced his fingers with his partner’s, holding his hand.

“What kind of artifact are you hoping to find?” Tav asked, fingers from this other hand carding through the Astarion’s hair.

Astarion hummed, “Well, if I can get anything I want. How about a ring?”

The elf felt Tav move under him, raising his head a little to look at him. “A ring?”

“Yes, all these years together and you haven’t offered me a single one. I’m slightly offended you know, I thought that you would have tried to propose to me at least once by now Darling,” Astarion said, mock offense in his voice. “If the only way to get you to give me a ring is to have it be magical, then I’ll take it.”

Tav laughed, his chest rumbling underneath Astarion, “Alright Love, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good,” Astarion replied, shifting so he could be face to face with Tav, kissing him.

When Astarion had told Tav he wanted a magical ring to be able to walk in the sun, he hadn’t expected the man to actually find a lead.

“The Ring of the Sun-Walker. It’s said to look just like an ordinary iron band with a ruby inlaid in it. To any normal person that’s all it is, but if it’s worn by a vampire you would no longer take damage from the sun,” Tav said, opening a worn scroll he traded off a rare artifact merchant just that morning and handing it to Astarion.

“Darling, when I asked you to get a magic ring, I assumed you understood that a normal ring would do,” Astarion said, eyes flitting across the page, full of excitement. “But this is even better, where are we heading next?”

The first lead towards the ring was only a tenday journey away, deep into the forest. The merchant Tav got the scroll off of heard that a band of mercenaries were hired to escort and deliver a shipment of valuable, possibly powerful jewelry, to Baldur’s Gate. The most sought-after piece was a simple ring that was rumored to give the wearer unimaginable power. The shipment never arrived to its destination and the band of mercenaries were never heard from again. The group had supposedly decided to take a less traveled path but it would have greatly cut down their travel time, if they had made it. Many treasure hunters had searched the area with no luck of finding any sign of the missing mercenaries or the shipment. Now it was Tav and Astarion’s turn.

The journey to the approximate last location of the mercenaries was relatively uneventful. A couple of owlbear encounters, mingled with some undead here and there. While it was nothing the two of them couldn’t handle, it did take a hit to the supplies that they had brought. While Tav was a cleric, he liked to have some potions of healing and a scroll of resurrection on hand in case things took a turn for the worse. Astarion made light of it every time he saw Tav check their bags before they traveled. This time had been no exception.

“I don’t understand why you insist on bringing all of that with you. It’s just weighing you down since you can do all of that yourself, for free,” Astarion said, gesturing towards the scroll of resurrection on the desk. “You can never be too careful, Love,” Tav replied. “Well, I guess it’s fine. In case, by some ungodly amount of bad luck, I end up having to save you for once,” Astarion joked. “Just make sure that doesn’t happen. I don’t think my heart could take it. Plus, we both know I wouldn’t know a single thing about how to use that scroll. You clerics and bards like to make everything so convoluted.”

Tav had laughed at Astarion’s joke at the time, but he wasn’t laughing now as he set up camp for the night and looked over their remaining supplies. They had enough rations to get them through one more day before they ultimately had to begin the journey back home, hands empty, to restock and try again another time. They had one potion of healing left and the resurrection scroll he had meant to pack away had stayed on the desk at home, forgotten due to Astarion’s jesting during packing.

A snapping of branches under foot brought Tav back to the present as Astarion returned to camp after scouting the area. Before Tav could say anything, the elf was already talking, excited about what he found while out.

“Darling, I found a cave. It was tucked away in a nice little nook, completely taken over by vines and absolutely unassuming. I wouldn’t have noticed it at all if something in the cave hadn’t been glinting in the moonlight. This could be what we’re looking for.”

Tav glanced down at their packs before standing and gathering his weapon and shield. A slight shiver ran down his spine accompanied by a feeling that they were being watched, but he shook it off, “Alright, let’s see what we can find, shall we?”

The cave wasn’t far from where set up camp, but Astarion was right, even if it hadn’t been covered in vines the cave opening would have been hard to notice. It was small and tucked away in small crevice of the rockface. Pushing away the vines, Astarion led the way, eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger before venturing further in. When he deemed it safe, he moved forward, Tav close behind him. The inside of the cave wasn’t anything special on the surface, dark, damp, bones and other debris littering the ground, but Astarion was looking for something specific. His eyes scanned the ground for the item that had drawn his attention to the cave originally. It didn’t take long before he found it, a few feet in and mostly buried in the dirt was a hint of silver. Digging it out he found himself holding a bracelet, a very nice one if it was cleaned up and polished. Definitely something someone of the higher class would appreciate.

“Love look, do you think this could be part of that shipment?” Astarion asked, turning to show Tav his find, but found himself dropping the bracelet instead, eyes widening in surprise. Behind Tav, shrouded in darkness, was a bandit, slinking towards them, dagger ready to strike. They had probably been watching them as soon as they entered the area, following them as they searched, on the hunt for the same treasure as they were.

Tav turned to follow Astarion’s gaze, hand reaching for his weapon but was too slow. The bandit struck, dagger sliding between Tav’s neck and his armor. Striking him just above his collarbone. Tav stumbled backwards, dropping his weapon as his reached up, grasping at his neck. Before the attacker could turn their attention to Astarion, he was already on them. Dagger striking blow after blow in a frenzied rage, ending the bandit before they had a chance to defend themselves. The bandit collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap, dagger embedded deep in its chest, forgotten, as the elf ran to his partner. Astarion fell to his knees next to Tav as he lay motionless on the ground, blood pooling quickly from the wound in his neck.

“No, nonono, you can’t die here,” Astarion pleaded, hands clawing desperately at Tav’s armor. Shaking fingers finding the clasps and pulled the chest piece away, tossing it unceremoniously to the side.

As soon as Astarion saw the wound his heart sank, there was nothing he would be able to do. The wound was too deep and too close to Tav’s carotid artery for a simple health potion to fix. Tav needed a proper healer and unfortunately the only healer around was the dying man himself. The only thing Astarion could do was put his hands on the wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding as best he could. He cursed himself for not accepting Tav’s offer to teach him basic healing spells. He had gotten comfortable. Tav rarely went down in battle. His heavy armor protected him enough that he was always able to heal at the end of a fight. Not once had Astarion thought that one well aimed dagger strike would be what took him down.

“You’re going to be alright Love,” Astarion said, panic tinging his voice. “Everything’s going to be fine. The bleeding will slow and you’ll be able to patch yourself up with that fancy healing magic of yours, alright? We’ll head back home so you can rest up and we can come back another day to look for the ring. I’ve gone this long without being able to walk in the sun. What’s a few more days?”

Astarion’s hands slipped on his lover’s neck, the flow of blood not slowing no matter how hard he tried. Tav’s labored breathing became wet as blood began speckling his lips with each breath out. Astarion watched Tav’s face as the color quickly drained from his cheeks. The pulse under his fingers was beginning to slow and breath was getting shallower. Tav’s eyes found Astarion’s. Once bright eyes were now dull and glazed over. Tav’s lips moved, attempting to form words but no sound came out.

“No Dear, don’t try to speak, conserve your energy, alright,” Astarion pleaded, pressing down harder on the wound as the pulse underneath his fingers continued to slow. Tav let out what could have been a laugh but it ended up being a small huff, a smile formed on his lips just before his head rolled to the side, hand reaching for something before his body went limp.

“No. No damn you! You can’t do this to me, wake up!” the elf cried, cupping Tav’s face between his hands, forcing him to face him. Blood streaked across the cooling skin as Astarion held his lover's face in between his hands. Blank eyes stared up, unseeing. Any life that had been there was now gone.

Astarion screamed. The cry ripping through him, powerful and raw, burning his throat, as he gathered Tav into his arms. Sobs wracked his body as he pulled his lover close. Hands practically tearing the fabric with how tight he was holding on. He doesn’t know how long he sat there, gently rocking the two of them back and forth as he wept. Head buried in his lover’s neck as his hand gently carded through Tav’s hair. Time had stopped for Astarion as soon as Tav had taken his last breath. This was his fault, he told himself. Tav would not be dead in his arms if he had not joked about not being proposed to. If he hadn’t suggested a magic ring as a replacement for a wedding band, Tav would still be here. He should have known that Tav, with his stupidly, beautifully, caring heart, would take it literally. He didn’t care if they were married or not. Being together had always been more than enough for him.

He should have seen this coming. His life had been too good for too long. He was stupid to think that he was allowed to live the rest of his days happy. Now his happiness had been ripped from him without a chance for him to even fight to keep it.

Too absorbed in his grief Astarion didn’t notice the glowing coming from Tav. It wasn’t until Tav’s body jolted in his arms, heaving as he inhaled, followed by coughing as his lungs spasmed at the sudden intake of breath that Astarion sat back. His eyes wide and full of disbelief as looked at his lover, now very much alive in his arms. He took in Tav’s face, still pale, covered in his own blood from where Astarion had held it, but color undeniably flowing back into his cheeks. Astarion’s hands still clutched tightly to the fabric of Tav’s shirt as his eyes wandered lower to Tav’s neck, the place where the fatal wound had been was now smooth. As if the wound had never existed at all. Lower they went still, until they reached Tav’s hands and that’s where he saw it. Held loosely in Tav’s right hand was his weapon.

The Blood of Lathander.

Astarion remembered the day they found it. It was shortly after venturing into the artifact and meeting the being that had been protecting them from the Absolute all those years ago. They found a hidden passage in a side room that lead to the weapon. Tav had insisted that there had to be a way to take the mace safely, but Astarion urged him to just reach out and grab it. What was the worst that could happen? Turns out the building being target by a laser powered by the sun was it. Their group had barely made it out of the creche before it was destroyed. Mace still in Tav’s hand.

Once per day, if the wielder dies in battle, the mace can bring them back to life.

Astarion had never been a religious man. None of the gods and goddesses had answered him when he called out to them during his darkest years, but now he may just turn to Lathander. Even if it was just to ensure the mace never stopped working.

“Hi Love,” Tav whispered, drawing Astarion’s attention back to him. A soft smile adorning his features as he wiped a tear from the elf’s face. “Did you miss me?”

Astarion said nothing. Instead, he cupped the back of Tav’s head and brought him in for a kiss, lips crashing together. It was a desperate kiss, full of fear, anger and most of all, relief. Astarion would have kissed Tav until the end of time if he could, but unfortunately, his lover needed to breath, unlike him. Pulling away Astarion rested his forehead against his Tav’s.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” Astarion hissed, voice and hands shaking as he held Tav close. Afraid if he let go now Tav would simply disappear. “I wouldn’t be able to handle losing you like that again.”

Tav didn’t speak as he wrapped his arms around Astarion. The warm embrace, reassuring the elf that he was there and, as long as Tav had a say, he wasn’t going anywhere.

[synabunart]

Just Astarion and Tali glazing some buns~ 😉

Commission for @snowfolly ❤️

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