#baldurs gate 3 drabble

[cambion-companion]

Hey. Hey. Hey there, pretty miss.

A RaphaelxTav prompt, if you're feeling up to it. We usually have Raph as the suave, sexy, giant devil. Scenario is up to you, but. Tav just gives him a little smooch. Doesn't even think of it, they're just used to travelling with their friends and all those horny freaks are touchy by default. How does the lad react? (I'm real bad at this, I'm sorry).

HI DARLING!

Thank you for indulging me and sending over a lil prompt, I appreciate you!!

I am totally open for more prompts, if I receive none I will still write more drabbles. This one is short, but to the, ehm, point hehe

It was a combination of the wine and the sleep deprivation…and the Illithid parasite writhing in your head.  You were so used to the company of friends such as Astarion or Karlach, so easy to lose your social decorum with.

You quickly pressed your lips to the side of his head, only realizing your blunder when sharp claws bit into the skin of your jaw, Raphael’s burning eyes suddenly all-too-sharp upon your blushing face.

“And just what…”  His voice was a deadly purr. “…gave you the impression I’d welcome such a gesture?”

It took several tense moments for your throat muscles to relax enough for the words to come out. The amount of his red wine you’d imbibed was not helping. “I…sorry, Raph.”

Raphael’s already arched brow raised even higher, his initial anger giving way to amusement. “My, if I’d known we had become so familiar I would’ve taken far greater liberties with you.”

“Such as?” You met his challenge with a tipsy grin and your eyes roved over his cambion form, so much larger than yourself.

His hand tightened as you admired him:  Ridged horns so much like an arching crown gleaming darkly in the dancing firelight casting shadows that accentuated his sharp features. His broad sweeping wings illuminated and slowly spreading, growing with the devious smile tugging up his lips.

“Such as…acts of such heat that would leave you crawling back to me, begging to sign your very soul over to experience again.”  Raphael lent down; your noses brushed.  You closed your eyes.  His hand tightened on your chin. “However, I like my playthings fully cognizant, able to feel the delicious intermingling of pain and pleasure.”

Your eyes snapped back open, hazing before finally refocusing on his tight smile just as he released you and stepped back.  His flaming eyes roved your form once. “Now, get thee hence ere I regret my restraint.”

[astarionmylife]

18+

When you and Astarion first have sex, it's all an act. It's a carefully precise performance he is putting on. Perfectly timed grunts and groans, pretty seductive language. He puts up a domineering front, disassociates like he always used to. It's second nature to him now, sex is not a tender act of affection anymore. It's a deal, the only thing he can offer in a trade. He's in control, simply exists to make you feel good.

As the two of you get closer, when you start experiencing feelings for each other, he doesn't know what to do. He feels lost, and the sex is much gentler. He's starting to feel comfortable with you, sometimes allows you to top and take control as he surrenders. His mask of pretense is dropping, his perfectly manicured act falling apart. He finds little whiny moans escaping him as he finishes. He finds himself clinging to you more and more, trusting you with more parts of his past.

After awhile, the two of you are open with each other, very much in love. You take care of him when necessary, and while the sex is never the same ideal as it was, it's so much more satisfying. And sometimes he can cry during sex, sobs falling down his cheeks as he sloppily thrusts into you, head buried in the crock of your neck as you stroke your fingers through his hair and whisper affirmations into his ears. And on the less emotional but just as horny days, you can spend days in bed, alternating between just holding each other, and pounding into each other. Life is good.

[justporo]

So you'll see tomorrow

A/N: Seeing a beautiful piece of artwork by @velnna and listening to Half life by Livingston I got a very angsty idea for a drabble (so be warned, it's sad). This idea came to me first a while back listening to Just a Man (you know from *that* BG3 edit). @velnna as always thanks for letting me play with your son - and sorry I hurt him... Also thank you to Dad on Maf's discord server for the inspo for the final line.

Warnings: implied character death (but this is just an alternate timeline ok??), self sacrifice

~~~

So this was it.

This is how they would all die.

There was no way they would defeat the Netherbrain. All their endeavours that led them here, all for naught. Unless…

Staeve saw it in his eyes first. How their expression changed from swimming and hopeless to hardened and determined. Astarion’s brows drew together - the crease they created between them as sharp as his daggers he lifted up once more.

“Staeve.”

He had never heard his voice like this. The tone as sharp as a knife and hard as rock.

It scared him.

“I’m going to create an opening for you. Be ready.”

Fear dug its claws into Staeve’s throat, choking him, as he began to realise what was about to happen.

“No,” the half-drow whispered, weakly grabbing for his lover’s wrists with all of his remaining strength.

“Astarion, no! You can’t do this!”

Panic gave Staeve new power. Helped him to forcefully turn Astarion around to him. Helped him make his love stare into his eyes as he screamed at him again. And again.

He shook him, even making the daggers drop from his pale, blood-speckled fingers.

Staeve kept screaming, feeling his voice become hoarse, hot streams of tears washing away the grime and gore as they made their way down his face.

But as he kept throwing everything at Astarion he noticed ruby eyes remaining hard and unfaltering. The decision had been made.

The last of his strength went with his last drop of hope as Staeve’s hands fell weakly from Astarion’s. His legs gave up, knees hit the ground hard.

And only then did Astarion shift, taking a final step back before making the run-up.

He dropped down in front of Staeve who could only stare up at him anymore.

“Let me do this one thing right, Staeve,” he whispered solemnly, cupping his love’s face. “Just this once let me make things right.”

Staeve’s vision was blurred, his head swimming. But he still clearly saw the warmth in Astarion’s eyes as he leaned his forehead to Staeve’s.

Astarion’s hand wandered to the nape of his neck as he pressed his eyes closed. “Promise me, you’ll live for me, Staeve. To the fullest.” When the vampire opened his eyes again, Staeve was sure there were tears in Astarion’s eyes as well.

There was nothing in Staeve to do or say. He wasn’t in control of anything anymore it felt like. Not even his own body as he solely kept listening to Astarion’s final words.

“And promise me,” the vampire continued, voice breaking, “sometimes - when you sit in the sun - you’ll think of me, Staeve. Promise me.”

Astarion only waited only long enough for Staeve to weakly nod, seemingly the only thing he was still capable of.

Then he crushed his mouth to his lover’s, the motion so forceful their teeth crashed together.

Desperation had them kiss so hard it hurt, that it felt like perishing already. Astarion’s hand on Staeve’s neck pressed down so hard it felt like bones might crush. A single last breath was passed between them as their lips moved against each other as they tried to make this the most vivid moment they had ever experienced.

One so he could never possibly forget this final kiss - how it had felt.

The other so he would go to his end, with the taste of his lover on his lips.

When a small eternity ended and Astarion broke away he grabbed Staeve’s face a final time.

“I know in another life, I would have loved you forever,” Astarion uttered with a smile.

Then he let go, Staeve almost toppling over, suddenly void of anything still lifting him up.

Astarion grabbed his daggers, turned around with a last glance and a smirk - and then he leapt.

[ghost-kings-court-jester]

Thinking about Astarion who has like no actual solid idea about camping or being a human coming up with a clever plot to make himself as useful to the group as possible - (so they’ll keep him and enact his revenge, not because he likes them and wants to help duh) - by bringing back his kills to the camp and leaving them for the camp chef to use.

Like literally just plopping them down, drained dry, right outside Gales tent. Starting with a hare or two, then a boar, a whole deer, that one bear maybe.

Meanwhile Gale certified Cat Dad can not figure out if this is:

(A) A sign of affection

(B) Astarion showing off how well he can provide for him in a weird bizarre vampiric courting ritual or

(C) Like when the mafia gives you a horse head.

It doesn’t help that Astarion is always watching his reaction like a Gods Damn Hawk across the camp EVERY SINGLE TIME.

So it just results in like Gale spiralling about the implications and coming up with ways to cook all this weird ass meat so as to not offend Astarion.

Then it becomes a way to possibly show off himself - even though wait Astarion can’t eat - what if that was actually rude of him? - maybe the bear was threat or maybe he is just over thinking it.

But what if it is a courting ritual? Should he should be finding a way to make his blood palatable and leave bottles outside Astarions tent, or what if he’s wrong and he’s over thinking it and it’s definitely a threat.

All the while Astarion is just oblivious thinking he’s scored a wizard for fighting Cazador without sex and so what if he starts giving the wizard part of his loot as well. That’s just to to keep him on his side and to be sure the wizard doesn’t explode unless Cazador is in the room. He must really be actually getting the hang of this whole being part of camp thing.

That’s totally why he sits avidly at the camp fire and watches Gale cook and eat the meals he provided for him. That’s just good camping. He isn’t obsessed with the wizard and his happy little smiles and food wiggles, don’t be crazy.

[ineadhyn]

You can be traumatized AND horny

Yes, this is about Astarion. What I noticed is that people seem to stumble over Astarion's many party interactions where he flirts or is generally horny. Like for example when in a Durge playthrough he offers to show Alfira his tent. It seems to counteract the fact he doesn't want sex because of his trauma.

There's three possible explanations to this. First, he flirts on instinct because he was trained to. Second, it's all just banter and bullshit. But I personally believe him. My take is that he really is horny. He wants to reclaim his body so bad. Now that he's free and amidst of attractive people he wants to try everything. That's why he also always runs head first into things he's not ready for. Like the drow twins incident.

He especially wants to be intimate with Tav. Underlined by him saying "it sounds like a challenge" when you offer an asexual relationship. He probably fantasizes about it a lot. But he can't. His psyche blocks him and he's probably so mad about it. But there's no way around so he has to wait, despite patience never having been one of his strengths.

What you want and what your psyche decides is best for you can and do differ often. They are not seamlessly linked. They even counteract. And you are in the middle trying to find a compromise and just trying and trying again until it finally works once, just to be set back the next time.

Tldr: Recovery is a chaotic mess.

[khywren]

astarion who, once you help him find a way to walk in the sun again, basks like a cat and is constantly sitting/laying in the biggest patch of sunlight that spills through your windows. that man is keeping every single curtain in your home wide open whether you want him to or not.

astarion who watches the sun rise every morning as it envelopes him in pale, stained glass light. it makes him feel so warm. so alive. the only thing he loves more is the way you look bathed in that same light, completely oblivious to the way he looks at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes as you sleep peacefully in his arms.

astarion who finds you all the prettiest jewels and gems, especially the ones that glimmer the most brightly in the sunlight, so that everyone else can see you the same way he does.

[emmyc0z]

can I request some cute fluff with Astarion - I think something cute would be tav’s never worn a dress and they put one on and Astarion is just mindblow by how good they look? 🥺

maybe he can do some chivalrous acts as well~

She Looks Breathtaking

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader

summary : astarion has never seen you in a dress, you haven’t been in one since you were taken from baldur's gate. you both find it hard to hide your excitement.

warnings : none :)

authors note: I hope you like this anon! (first, i finally played baldur's gate. second, i'm going to try and pump out the requests that I haven't gotten to.)

“Oh! Look how pretty this is!” 

You turn your head to look towards Karlach’s booming voice, much too loud for the small space you were in. She held up a dress, something you hadn’t thought about wearing in months. You hadn’t had any important events to attend.

Walking over to her side, you take the fabric between your fingers. “It’s beautiful..”

“You should get it. I think you’d look great, and I bet Astarion would like it too.” She nudged at your side, teasing. Your face flushed, and you ran your fingers along the hem of the dress, avoiding Karlachs gaze. She likes to poke fun at the obvious crush you had developed on Astarion, and everytime she did you regretted telling her more and more. 

Eventually, you find a small paper attached to the fabric showing the price of the dress, eyes widening at the disgustingly low price. 

“When would I even get a chance to wear it? It would go to waste, just weigh my bag down.” Karlach huffs, taking the price tag and reading it for herself.

“Are you kidding me? Even if you don’t wear it, you’d be a fool to ignore this price. Maybe you will attend some noble party when we get to Baldur's Gate!” She was way too excited but her energy almost made you agree with her, the dress was so cheap even if it went unworn for a long time. And you hadn’t worn one in..you couldn’t even remember.

You thought about it for a moment before moving for your coin pouch, pouring the amount into your hand and handing the coins to the trader. They slip out of your hand much faster than you'd care to admit, hiding your excitement from Karlach proving to be a challenge. “Don’t say a word to anyone, Karlach, I mean it.”

“Fine. But I better get to see you in it, at least try it on for me when we get back to camp!” You shake your head, amused by Karlachs childish antics, but you yourself can’t help but feel a little bit excited by the idea of dressing up. 

When you returned to camp that night you had forgotten about the dress in your bag, slipping your mind amidst the constant thought of being attacked or having to talk your way out of a hostile situation. 

So when Karlach came bouncing over to your side, your tent tucked away in a corner secluded from most of your party to keep your privacy, you could only give her a confused look. She seemed so excited and you had no idea why, and she was beginning to return the confusion.

“You gonna put on the dress or just make me stand here?” Oh! You let your bag fall to the ground, crouching down to rummage through its contents, searching for the dress. 

When you found it you laid it over your bag, standing back up to remove the leather from your body. You could hear Karlachs giggles as you shimmied out of your much too tight leather pants, only to have to pull the dress over your body right after.

Your hair was up, but you untied it and allowed your hair to fall over your shoulders. When you turned back to her, she stared at you with awe. “Woah..”

“What?” 

“You look..nice.” You giggled, which made her laugh along with you, both of you unaware of the approaching footsteps. His eyes trace along your figure, and he allows himself a moment of greediness to take in the full effect you have. You seem so happy, a smile appearing on his cheeks as he watches you smile gleefully and so..so..carefree. You're finally allowing yourself to have fun, and not worrying about protecting everyone else around you. And Gods.. you’re breathtaking. 

He would never admit to a living soul, or a non-living one for that matter, but he had been infatuated with you since the moment you asked him to join your party. You made him weak, and with his newfound freedom he wasn’t sure what the correct way to deal with it was. Obviously he could use his charm to lure you into his bedroll, but he wanted more, he wanted to be the reason you felt giddy enough to show your teeth with a smile. He wanted to be the reason you laughed, and fooled around, the reason you felt safe enough to have fun. 

He takes a deep breath in, to regain his confidence and charm, and he proceeds towards the two of you.  

Until his voice filled your ears and caused your eyes to shoot in his direction, “Well well..don’t you look nice.” 

“Astarion!” He approached the two of you slowly, staring at you and paying no mind to Karlach’s presence. 

“I’m gonna leave you two alone..” Karlach let out an awkward chuckle, making eye contact with you with wiggly eyebrows before sneaking away.

You look back towards Astarion, who is unable to make eye contact with you as his eyes roam along your body, preoccupied. You're certain he doesn't even realise Karlach has left from beside the two of you.

“Where did you get this pretty thing?” He looks back up to meet your eyes, smirk big enough to show his fangs which sends a nervous shiver through your body. A tingle in your neck reminds you of the favour you allowed him. Your arms cross against your chest, suddenly more nervous in his presence than ever before. 

“Just something I picked up from a merchant..” 

“In all the time I’ve traveled by your side , I’ve never seen you look so.. elegant.” 

“Wow thanks..” You roll your eyes with a snort, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.

“Now c’mon darling..you know I mean you no disrespect. Only pointing out the obvious. May I?” At first you're unsure what he’s even asking permission for, but when you see his hands reaching out to touch you, you give him a nod. 

He doesn’t hesitate, hands finding your hips. “See…usually you’re wearing that menacing leather, always so serious.” Your face scrunches up at his words, you’ve never thought your armour to be very menacing nor did you believe you were ‘always serious’. Only when the situation called for it. 

The heat of his skin can be felt even through the fabric. His thin fingers squeeze into the plush of your hips, then run along your waist, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “But right now, in this dress, with your hair undone,” He brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hairs, “You look so free. You’re beautiful darling..so beautiful.” 

You feel your face relax, and it only softens more when Astarions eyes meet yours once more and his pupils are blown . The softest smile blossoms on his face, which turns out to be contagious cause not soon after a cheek burning smile is on your face. Face hot as you look into his eyes, his hands still on your waist, thumbs massaging your skin through your dress. 

“I should take it off, I don’t want to get it dirty.” 

“Could you humor me?”

“Humor you? How so, Astarion?” 

“Keep it on, just for an hour. It’s been a long time since I spent an evening with a woman as beautiful as you..” 

[truerhearts]

cw: 18+ nsfw !!!!

astarion never made noise.

not really.

she'd had him, over and over, bound beneath her, sweat drenched, cock pulsing inside her, and he still hadn't given her the one thing she wanted. a moan, a groan, a sound that was anything other than a sigh or slight whimper.

she'd had him… or so she thought.

that was the thing with him. he let her think she had him. it was almost humorous in his eyes. he let her ride him until her voice broke, let her tie him up and drag it out for hours, and all he ever gave back were clenched teeth and the faintest shifts of breath.

that was his thing, control.

he always had it. even when she was the one on top. even when she was 'in charge' he was still the one pulling the strings.

but tonight, she decided to change the rules.

no teasing. no pacing around him like he was prey. no games.

she just knelt between his thighs, eyes on his cock which was already thick and flushed, resting against the firm plane of his stomach like it was waiting for her.

he lay there- shirt open, chest bare, breath steady. watching. like he wasn't the one aching. like she was just indulging herself.

that amused little half-smile played on his lips, like he already knew how this would go.

she didn't look at him.

she kissed his stomach.

let her mouth drag across his skin, tracing lines down his torso, moving slowly like she had nothing to prove. her hands skimmed over his thighs, thumbs pressing into the muscle just to feel how tense he already was.

still no reaction.

her breath passed over his cock. he twitched.

she leaned in and gave one slow lick, base to tip. his abs flexed.

her lips closed around the head, sucking soft and slow, her tongue circling, then flicking gently just under the ridge… right along the narrow sensitive underside…

his breath caught.

and she smiled.

she took more of him into her mouth, slow and steady. she let her tongue press into the underside again as she sucked him deeper. her hand stroked what her mouth couldn't take, warm and slick and rhythmic.

and then… there.

just beneath the ridge, a little to the right, when her tongue dragged just right… he twitched. hard. his stomach jumped.

and he made a sound.

low. guttural. rough around the edges, like it tore out of him without permission.

she glanced up at him for the most brief second, and his eyes... they were wide.

that was it.

that was the spot.

she felt the thrill shoot through her. he hadn't made that noise before, not ever. that wasn't a grunt, nor was it controlled.

she kept going. she did it again. slid her tongue right there, slow and deliberate… and mean, and she sucked deep around him while her hand tightened just enough-

he groaned.

not too loud, but wrecked and breathless. the same broken place in his throat, cracked open by surprise.

he tried to hold himself still, but his hips bucked once into her mouth. she didn't let up. her tongue found that spot again, hit it with the same pressure, and his whole body jolted.

his hand reached for her hair, but stopped, fisting the furs of the bedroll instead.

another sound slipped from him this time. richer, and more desperate.

she had him now.

every pass of her tongue pulled another twitch. another breathy catch. another half-moaned response like his body was giving in second by second.

his jaw was tight, his chest rising too fast.

now his hand was tangled in her hair, gripping tightly like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

then he spoke, half whispered like he couldn't get the words out fast enough.

"what in the hells are you-"

but it ended there.

because just as he tried to say it, she hit the spot again and sucked him down, deep.

his voice cracked, cut off by a moan that was raw and unfiltered, dragged out of him like like penance ripped from a sinner's throat in Avernus.

it was loud. and he heard it too, his hand shot up like it meant to cover his mouth, but it was far too late. the sound was already in the air, echoing.

he groaned again, soft and helpless, like everything within him was unraveling faster than he could keep up.

she looked up at him again and he was an utter mess. hair damp, lips parted, eyes glazed with heat. his chest heaved, stomach tight. his hand tightened in her hair - hard. maybe painful.

she didn't care.

she kept going, mouth and hand working him with relentless focus. the slick sounds were obscene, and every loud smack uttered a reaction from him.

his body tensed, his thigh shook under her palm.

she pulled back just enough to stroke him, her thumb pressing against the head where he was most sensitive-

and he came.

he didn't mean to, but it happened.

hot and thick, spilling over her fingers in pulses that made his whole body jerk. his breath was a mess of broken exhales and groans.

"fuck, fuck, fuck" he whispered over and over again through gritted teeth.

she didn't say a thing.

just stroked him through it, then kissed the tip soft as his thighs twitched and his body sagged.

when she looked up-

he was dazed, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes, disbelief mixed with raw, unraveling pleasure. and for once, he wasn’t smiling.

not yet.

then, after a long, shaky breath, he gave a low huff of laughter—dry... self-conscious.

“gods…” he muttered, eyes shifting away from hers for the briefest moment. “i… didn’t think you had it in you.”

his lips twitched, almost a smirk, but not quite. a pause. then he added, quieter, rougher:

“…you're wasted on kindness.”

[nyx-express]

Cuddling.

A/n: The line “Don't look at me like that. With the sweet little 'disappointed I'm not getting cuddly Astarion' pout.” made me think. It might call for me to get a grip, yes. But there is the notion of cuddly Astarion existing at other times buried within. So here's a drabble for cuddly Astarion.

Astarion x Tav/reader (no pronouns)

Astarion takes a long while to open up. Cuddling is not a casual after-sex activity for him but deeply emotional, which he doesn’t seem to realise. Usually, he gets up and goes about his day after having bedded someone, or at least puts on clothes before going to sleep - with an arm’s length of space between them, naturally. 

Why would he cuddle, press himself against someone for even longer, when the deed has already been done? And done exceptionally well, of course. His past lovers seemed not even to have the mental or physical capacities to ask for more proximity when he was done with them. Most were content just to sleep and regain their strength. So no, cuddly Astarion had not been required during his tasks for Cazador.

But while travelling Faerun with company, after countless battles, facing death daily on their journey back to Baldur’s Gate, he finds himself overcome with a need to be closer. And when your fingers reach for his bare back as you lie beside him in his tent, his eyes snap open in shock. Shocked that he hasn't flinched, shocked that he doesn't mind your hand running over his scars. He hesitates for a moment, thoughts racing with what he should do, and decides on his favourite option - smoothing it over with a fangy smile. He turns to look at you and pulls you closer, his face swiftly buried in the crook of your neck, away from your view. He breathes in deeply, his hands holding you tightly against him as if you were about to vanish. It takes a while for him to realise you won‘t, to be sure you’re not moving away. Still, he calculates every breath you take and notices every flutter of your fragile, little heart as your body tangles with his. He waits for you to become worked up again, could bet your hands would wander south once more. But no, your fingers rake through his hair, massaging his scalp as the minutes pass, then dance over his shoulders and down his back, and you giggle - you dare to giggle at a time like this!

“You’re unusually stiff,” you whisper and he hears the smile in your tone. “Should I stop?”

“No, I…” He ponders. Should he say it? Out loud? Oh hells, if he must. “I like this.”

“Good,” he hears when one of your hands reaches for his hair again. “Me too.”

[neckromantics]

I don't think enough of you are seeing the potential in letting Astarion drink from your wrist??

(Brief warning: this got a little more sensual than I'd intended? I think I am possessed.)

The way you could still sit as close as you want, plastered to his side even– one leg thrown over his lap while the other is outstretched behind him. It would take a little bit of maneuvering to get the angle just right, but once you do it, it quickly becomes one of your favorite ways to feed him.

You'd have a better view from this angle as well. Would be able to see the glint of bared fangs just before they sink deep into the tender skin of your wrist with a soft pop. To watch the shiver that rolls through him as the taste of you finally meets his prodding tongue– his throat working as he takes that first, careful swallow.

You trace up the curve of his spine as base instinct takes over. His body forms a shield as he hunches, pale digits digging into your outstretched arm as if you'd ever have the heart to take his meal away from him before he's anything less than sated. Happy.

Your fingers comb through the sweet little, silver curls at the nape of his neck, nails scrubbing at his scalp as a form of encouragement so gentle he practically purrs.

Gods, the noises he makes when he's enjoying himself. You can't help but squirm in anticipation when his breathing begins to pick up. Each quick inhale becomes choked off with a little moan of satisfaction– or a whine so high and strained, as if he's hurting in the best possible way. It's as if you taste so good that he doesn't know what to do with himself. His legs kick up a bit. The heels of his boots drag the ground before he settles back down. He jerks away and then towards you once more. Practically writhes in ecstasy. You have to turn your head away just to stare at something far off in the distance. A pathetic attempt to focus on anything else before you lose your mind.

Eventually, you feel your offered arm begin to grow colder. A slight tingle at the tips of your fingers slowly creeps its way up and prompts you to wiggle in an effort to lessen any discomfort. The movement pulls him out of his trance just a bit, and you can feel it.

The length of pause between each swallow starts to become longer. Every pull of your blood becomes a little more shallow, a little less desperate as he braces himself for the moment you say you've had enough.

Admittedly, you always wait a bit too long than is comfortable. It's really hard to ask him to stop when you can physically feel the satisfaction radiating off of him in waves, but you know you have to say something the second you feel that all too familiar floaty sensation begin to sneak up on you.

The moment your temple hits his shoulder, he's pulling away with a sharp gasp of unneeded air, a sad, little whimper escaping his open mouth before he has the chance to muffle it. It's only now that his eyes flutter open. A more vibrant crimson now that he's properly fed, all hazy and soft with a wonder that you'll never grow tired of seeing. He turns to meet your half-lidded gaze from where you're slouched against him.

It'd be so easy for him to slip, to give into the urge to clamp down and drink and consume until you've got nothing left to offer. Especially when you're hanging off of him this way, eyes filled with warm adoration and body so willing to let him take and take and take.

Oh, how he must be careful, now.

The vampire's eyes get a certain headiness that you know all too well, locked onto your own as he allows himself one last taste. You can only watch as he chases a rivulet of blood all the way down the length of your forearm, petal soft lips creating artful smears of crimson with each sloppy press, only to be cleaned away a moment later by the gentle swipe of his tongue.

Your thighs clench automatically around his waist in response, and if he notices, he thankfully doesn't tease you for it. Yet.

After so many feedings, he's really got the hang of biting you in a way that doesn't do any lasting damage. So, it isn't very long before the marks his teeth have left behind no longer weep openly. The familiar, dull throbbing that resonates from the twin punctures is soothed by the soft press of his mouth. Then, the cheeky bastard makes it worse by giving a harsh, cheek-hollowing suck.

It's your turn to whimper.

He pulls away with such a smug smirk. It'd have your eyes rolling if you had any sort of brain function left.

His fingers are now warm as they knead against the numb skin of your drained arm, wiggling it about for you, and bending it the elbow a few times in an effort to get the blood flowing. It's a small act of kindness that you find ever so endearing, and you thank him with a tiny smooch to the very corner of his jaw.

He thanks you right back for the nice meal, with a loving stroke of his knuckles against the side of your face. Gives you a kiss so eager that you're left in shock.

You can taste the copper you've left on his tongue as it swirls against your own, and can't stop yourself from deepening the kiss a moment later. You swallow down his responding groan like he swallowed down all those mouthfuls of your blood. Eager. Just a little desperate. Happy.

Anyway, what was the point of this post again?

[yandere-sins]

At one point in time, there was a glitch in BG3 where Gale behaved like a stalker to tav starting from the goblin village. Gale just won't take no for an answer and acts like you're betraying him even though you've broken up with him many times. I was wondering if you ever got the chance and ever considered writing for that fandom again, could you write something with this glitch? If not, it's cool. Sorry for bothering you.

Oh! I didn't have that actually, it might have already been fixed by the time I started playing, but thank you for sharing, that's super interesting! :D Thank you for requesting him ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

It was hard enough to travel with complete strangers, whose needs and wants were always prioritized by them over the common good for the group. Every day, there were some forms of arguments and discussions, sometimes being superficial digs and other times profound differences. Balancing the group while also living with the fear of dying day after day gave you constant anxiety and stress.

And Gale's budding feelings didn't help with that.

"Here," he muttered wistfully, holding out a small daisy he had picked from the wayside, looking at you like a shy boy confessing his first crush. Even though the group was on their way to Baldur's Gate to get the answers you so desperately needed, he still had the time to look out for you and try to lift your mood, which had been tense ever since you left Moonrise Tower. But his gesture had quite the opposite effect on you. There was a soothing hum of bickering and laughter behind you, revealing that no one was paying the two of you walking ahead any mind. Yet, you couldn't have been more happy to be spared the nosiness of your companions at that moment.

"You know it was just that one time. It didn't really mean anything, Gale. I told you!"

Your words were a mere hiss in the wind as you frowned upon the flower in his hands, dismissing it completely by turning your gaze straight ahead onto the forest path. There were more important things you had to keep in mind than his desire to court you. It had been your own fault—and the wine's—that you gave in one night, letting this man comfort you at your most vulnerable moment and caving to his desire.

Many nights had gone by since then and you two had worked together in an effort to put an end to the plague of mind flayers and cultists that had taken root in the world. But while it seemed like Gale wanted more and more from you each passing day, you tried to create a distance he wouldn't allow. There lay the flaw in your relationship, which was primarily out of necessity for you, yet a matter of the heart for him.

"What isn't can still be! You just need to give me a chance to prove myself!" he whisper-begged, the sound of desperation in his voice giving you goosebumps. It was as annoying as it was gut-wrenching that he kept trying. Gale saw something in you that you didn't want to see and didn't really care for, as the truth was: if you two had been strangers, you wouldn't even have looked in each other's direction on the street.

Why pretend that you two could actually work as a couple?

"Gale, I said no! I am not interested! Not now, not ever, why don't you understand that?!"

"Because I know! I saw it in your eyes that night! We are the same and we belong together—why do you keep denying it?"

"The same? We— Gale are you insane?! We are nothing alike! In fact, if I had to travel without you, I wouldn't miss you at all!"

The last part slipped out a bit louder than the rest, catching the attention of your closest companions, Astarion's lips curling into a catty grin. At the same time, Karlach looked taken aback by your statement, slowly shaking her head in disapproval. Clearing your throat, you composed yourself and gave Gale a stern look.

"It's not happening," you said quieter but firmly. "Let's get this over with and go our separate ways, I want you to respect that."

Finally, you managed to shake him off as his feet slowed, but you kept walking. Hopefully, he'd finally listen after many nights spent in conversations about you two and the future you didn't want with him. You were sure that one day, he'd find someone who could appreciate all the quirky and sweet traits Gale possessed, but it simply wasn't you.

"Get it over with?" he said behind you, sounding in disbelief. Gale didn't yell, but he said it loud enough that everyone raised their heads and looked up, confused eyes darting from Gale to you. He still held the poor flower in his hand, but his knuckles turned white as he clutched it.

"We spent nights together talking about us and our future, and you just suddenly change your mind and want me to get over it?!"

That was one way to misinterpret your breaking-up attempts.

"How about I just stay here and die in misery because no one apparently can love me! Not Mystra, not you—no one! Might as well become a mind flayer, what difference does it make!"

"Harsh," Astarion commented as he passed you by, grinning from ear to ear as he enjoyed the show.

"I didn't think you'd be so mean to lead on the poor guy," Karlach chided, Gale's show apparently having left a bitter taste on her judgment of you. She shook her head as she walked by, followed by most of the others that traveled with you, Lae'zel giving you her classic tongue click in annoyance.

"Not to tell you what to do, but-" Shadowheart stopped just before passing you, holding out an old dagger to you she must have pulled from her bag, "-it would be merciful to kill him. Before he turns into a mind flayer, I mean."

Then, she, too, walked on, leaving you behind with the mess of a man before you. You took a deep breath as you felt your feeble reputation with the others and your pride wash off you, the cold silver in your hand reminding you that you couldn't just leave him behind. Gale was a part of the group, even if it was hard to allow him to stay close to you after his continuous efforts to guilt you into a relationship.

"Gale, come on, the others will leave us behind if we take too long--"

"No. You told me to get over it, so here I am, getting over it. Over our relationship, over my life! Getting over it all!"

"Gale you're being childish!"

"Childish?!" he gasped dramatically, one might think he and Astarion swapped personalities when you weren't looking.

"I love you, and you call me childish?! I've done everything for you! I've been there for you, helped you, advised you! I told you about everything that happened to me! I- I bared myself before you! Don't tell me my feelings are childish when all I did was give you everything I got! Don't deny me of my dignity! At least I never played with your feelings like you have with mine!"

Oh, what a headache, you thought as you rubbed your forehead, taking a deep breath. You could only hope the others would stop walking eventually until you figured out how to clear up this situation and get Gale to not give up on his life like that.

"I'm sorry, Gale. I just don't feel the same."

They were words you had said countless of times by now, but even so, they didn't have any effect.

"I appreciate your sincerity and your efforts so we could make it this far, and I don't want it to end like this here. You've been a good... friend. You helped me countless times, but I just don't feel the same about you as you do about me. And I told you, but you won't listen, and I don't know what to do anymore."

"Tell me why," he mumbled, taking a step forward. You almost wanted to recoil, not having noticed him practically closing the distance while you tried to come up with your retort. "Why don't you love me? If you could just give me a reason, I could make my peace with it. Tell me what I did wrong, please, I beg you!"

What should you say? "You're not my type" or "I was drunk when we kissed"? Was there any way to not sound rude when breaking up? Were you even breaking up? As far as you were concerned, you two were never together in the first place.

"I'm sorry," you muttered instead, watching as the last glimmers of hope escaped from Gale. "I don't have a reason, I just don't love you."

You took a step back as his gaze sunk to the ground, defeated, heartbroken. It was better this way, even if it made you feel miserable. After all, you didn't want him to get the wrong impression or feel betrayed by feelings that never existed. But you also didn't want to humor him and come to hate him just because you didn't make it clear what you felt.

"Let's go, Gale. The others are waiting. We have a mission to complete."

"Wait."

His hand grabbed you before you could react, his fingers digging deep into your wrist as he pulled you back, applying a painful pressure on your body. The dagger in your hand shivered as you tried to hold on to it, being perhaps the best thing to defend yourself with should something happen.

"Let me go!" you immediately insisted, but instead, Gale came closer, much, much closer than ever before. His face hovered beside yours as he stared at you with unblinking eyes. You felt his fast, heated breath on your face like fire licking at your skin, sweat collecting on your forehead as your heart began to race with adrenaline.

"You can still learn to love me."

"What? Gale, what are you talking about? That's not how--"

"I can show you. I'm useful, I'm a good wizard! I'll be whatever you want me to be. You can still fall in love with me over time! I just need to prove myself to you, right? I need to be better than I was, I understand it now! I vow, I will!"

Raising your hand with his own, he pointed the dagger right at his throat, the apple located there bopping nervously before he continued to talk, his voice having a slight shiver in it as Gale made you a deal that made you gulp as well.

"Or you kill me now. If you think you can never love me, if you truly, honestly think that you'll never feel the same as me, kill me. Do it, please. Because I cannot live knowing there will never be hope for us. I just can't. Please. Please. I accept whatever you decide, so please."

Droplets of blood started to run down his throat as he pressed the tip further forward, guiding your hand towards his death. You wished he was just joking, throwing his life away over something so trite as your feelings for him, but with every second, more blood sprung forth from the wound, and Gale gasped as the pain began to spread.

And even after killing so many and being so appalled by his actions, you couldn't do it.

"N-No! Stop!" you yelled, ramming your free hand into his shoulder and tearing away from him. Finally, Gale let you go and the dagger fell to the ground, far away from either of you two, as you made a backside landing onto the hard dirt path as well.

Immediately, you felt Gale's arms around you as he sunk to the ground, hugging you tightly while your whole body tensed in his bone-crushing hold. "Thank you," Gale whispered, his voice cracking as he repeated the words over and over.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Only when you whimpered in pain did he let go, his eyes glossy as he quickly wiped away the tears from them before getting back up and taking your hand to pull you into a stand again.

"You'll not regret it," Gale promised you solemnly, and you couldn't help the creeping of regret already clawing its way around your body.

"I'll prove myself to you, and you will realize you didn't make the wrong decision."

And with that, Gale moved on, chipper as a carefree bird while you were left behind, your eyes falling onto the silver dagger on the ground, its tip still coated in dark red. Fear gripped you, washing over you as you realized the mistake of giving someone so desperate hope. Hope that would be even harder to shatter now that you proved his crazy theory that you believed in a chance for you two, too. All, just because you couldn't bring it over you to kill someone innocent just because he was desperate. But at that point, you didn't know yet what Shadowheart really meant by talking about mercy.

And that she never truly meant merciful for Gale, either.

[cambion-companion]

Knot

Alright, it was put in my head that devils knot when mating/having sex. So...had to write this little ficlet.

Raphael x f!reader/Tav | SMUT | 18+ only

Scorching tension, the aching coil of your muscles as they stretched and clenched to accommodate him. Your fingers sought purchase, something to tether you to reality as ecstasy rocked with every thrust.

“Raphael.”  His name tasted like honey, burnt like whiskey upon your lips.  Your tongue felt leaden as he claimed your mouth, swallowing your pleading as he claimed you.

Amidst the haze and the heat, you noticed what a mess you were making of the cambion’s lush bed. “The sheets…”  You murmured, attempting to sit up and regain some semblance of control.

Your hair stirred in the rush of wind the sudden beat of his wings created, the leather appendages stretching wide as Raphael pushed you by the throat back against the mattress. “Are replaceable.” Raphael’s sharp claws dug against the tender flesh of your thigh as he dragged your body closer to him, drunk on the sensation of you so pliable and wet around him. He grinned down at you before a rumble of pleasure dragged from his throat. “So willing, little mouse.”  He leaned over, the skin of his wings turning the ambient firelight into a red haze. “Take all of me.”

Your eyes widened, feeling the flush of heat and heady lust his words aroused. Your body became taught as a bowstring seconds before the kill, his name spilling from your panting mouth, sweet to the taste.

Raphael fought to keep composure, failing spectacularly, burying himself deep within you, his sinful orisons of pleasure echoing your own cries. You felt his seed spill, the painful heat of it overshadowed by the pleasure as your body drank him in.

Your skin stung and broke as Raphael’s teeth pierced where your shoulder and neck joined, marking you as his own outside as well as within. He continued rutting into you, stretching you as the infernal knot took hold. You whined and he silenced you with his fingers pushing into your mouth.

Hellfire eyes found yours, your foreheads pressed together in a semblance of twisted intimacy as you nearly choked on his long digits. “Good, little one. Take me.”  

You wanted nothing more than to give in. To whatever end. Pain and pleasure mixed, your whines muffled around his fingers until he withdrew them only to replace the void with his lips and tongue. He was anchored inside, the languid thrusts of his hips sent spasms along your spine as Raphael pressed your legs down against your chest.

The two of you remained interlocked, twin flames made one, until Raphael was satisfied you’d been properly mated.  When he finally withdrew, he dragged a single nail down your chest to your navel, pressing almost until he drew blood over your womb. His tail flicked against your side as he gave you a lazy, self-satisfied smile. “You’re the image of sin, my dear.”  His palm flattened against your abdomen possessively. “Now, go clean yourself.  I will join you shortly for a thorough examination of your progress.”

[colonelarr0w]

Just thinking about Astarion as a personification of the trope "unamused until my S/O walks into the room."

Just imagine it.

Karlach had practically insisted that the group rest at a nearby tavern following a successful battle against a particularly nasty band of goblins. Nobody dared protest with her, not when you smiled and nodded happily along with her idea.

That led you and the rest of your companions to a small, rundown tavern on the outskirts of the town you had visited.

To be fair, Astarion had never been a fan of spending time in crowded places -- that much had been evident from the very start. You had always noticed that on the nights where you and the others gathered around the camp's fire Astarion would retire for the night.

You never pushed him, and for that he was grateful. And after all, he would have you to himself soon enough. You always sought him out after spending time with the others, ready to sleep curled up against his side and whisper to him underneath the moon's glow.

But this time was different, now he was surrounded by lowly creatures that he couldn't be paid to interact with. They danced happily and drank with one another, their happiness only adding to Astarion's very visible frustration.

He stands off to the side, his arms crossed firmly over his chest while his hardened scarlet eyes roam over the tavern's patrons. Shadowheart, Gale, and Lae'zel seem to be enjoying themselves, drinking happily and engaging in pleasent conversation. Karlach is most definitely enjoying herself, indulging in the tavern's ale and laughing heartily.

Astarion's ears perk at the sweet sound of your laughter, his eyes flickering to you. You were talking with the tavern's bartender, lips curled upward at something she had said to you.

The sight is almost instant; Astarion's eyes soften, the crease in between his brows vanishes, and the scowl on his lips is replaced by a gentle smile. He leans a bit more comfortably against the tavern's wall, attention focused on you.

He may despise going on, but to see you smiling and happy? Maybe going out wasn't so bad after all.

[justporo]

Sometimes the thought how much Astarion loved you hit him like a bolt directly to his undead heart. Suddenly, he'd realise how incredibly fortunate he felt that he was able - and free - to love you.

Those were usually the moments you felt him wrap his arms around you tightly from behind or when he just halted when he was making love to you. The moments the vampire just took a moment out of his unending time, out of his immortal life, to hold it. Plucking it like one would a perfectly ripe berry to savour it fully in its sweet perfection.

And Astarion would just look at you, taking in every single detail, or feeling how the warmth of your skin slowly seeped into his own, before kissing you deeply.

Kissing you like it might be the last time even though it was just another mundane moment. One in a seemingly endless series of moments just like this.

But sometimes, sometimes he just needed to appreciate that he had you, that he held you - and that he would do so for as long as he was able to.

"What was that for?" you might ask him after the kiss had been broken after a while, barely able to come back to this plane of existence after he'd just taken you towards the stars with the way he'd kissed you.

"Oh," Astarion would murmur with a chuckle, placing a small peck onto the tip of your nose. "Just the usual, darling," he'd whisper before he leaned in again to kiss you once more: his open lips moving against yours speaking of how you were everything to him.

The best thing he'd ever gotten to experience.

[misquoted-chronicles]

*Night had settled in. Two figures sat on opposite sides of the fire — one slouched back, legs stretched, and ankles crossed, propped on an elbow; the other hunched forward, threading a needle through a torn strap of stiff leather, focused and silent. *

Astarion: You know, I could have anyone in this camp.

Tav: Then why are you always next to me?

Astarion (quietly): …Because you’re the only one who looks at me like I’m not a monster.

*Tav paused, the half-finished repair hanging limp in their hands. Tav looked up slowly, the firelight softening the hard lines of their face. The needle stayed threaded, midair, forgotten. *

Tav: That’s because you’re not.

*Astarion tilted his head slightly. His mouth twitched—just barely. But that faint tug at the corner of his lips gave him away.*

Astarion: Don’t ruin my image, darling.

[adharaphoenix]

"I really have to get going"

"Make me stop, then", he suggests with his lips against the sensitive skin on the side of her waist, sending a tickling wave up and down. Hands like snakes, arms like vines, voice like honey (if honey could taunt). "Just say it, pet. Stop, my love, I have to go. I have better things to do."

With each word his hand draws a loose spiral over her stomach until he's lifting the border of the underwear and by then it is too late, it was always going to be too late, the moment he touched her, and he knows it. His fingers part her lips and find her already wet. If Awbonee was too proud maybe she'd take offence at the way he relishes it, because Astarion is a sore loser but can be an even worse winner.

"Go on then. Tell me to stop. Make me."

It was never going to happen, and at least he has the decency to hide his smile when she sinks back towards him.

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

prompt 17 from the drabbles list, "make me". be patient with me I haven't written in English (or Spanish either) in ages 😔