#bd3 x reader

[igzsatelier]

Astarion : "Oh really? You think I'm pretty?"

Tav : "Yeah, you're pretty."

Astarion : "Of course I am!—"

Tav : "—Pretty annoying."

Astarion : *dramatic offended gasp*

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

Not sure how many chapters this will be but it will be slow burn 🖤

Crimson eyes. All that swims in your memory is the look of pure satisfaction in those eyes at the carnage that unfolds before you. Your mother and siblings laid drained and lifeless before you. Your father chanting prayers as he grovels at the feet of the man before you. He is sleek and pristine, with onyx colored hair and prestigious clothing now splattered with the blood of your loved ones. His lips form a nasty sneer, sharp canines glistening in the now dimly lit manor.

“You should have never made a wager you couldn’t keep, especially with a vampire.”

•••

Suddenly you are jolted away from the heart wrenching memory. Nightmares coming and going as blurs of reality swing past you. A tentacle creature. Some type of bug. But what alarms you now is the feeling of rock beneath you. You try to come to as your memories try to serve you. A ship, crashing said ship, others. Others! You jolt from the ground and look over. The Githyanki fighter is next to you as well as the other female you believed to have introduced herself as Shadowheart. You all look at eachother, relieved to be alive.

-

You all set foot to find any others that might have been held captive while in that demonic ship. So far you have found a tiefling named Karlach and the humans Gale and Wylls. You split up in search of any others with a designated spot to return to. You come upon one last survivor as you crest over a small hill. Silver hair rustles in the wind as the elf’s back faces you. He just barely looks over his shoulder at you, motioning you closer.

“Quickly! I have one of those brain things cornered over here! Come kill it!” He demands. He points towards the grass down the slope in front of him. You take cautious steps, moving silently towards where he mentions. You tense, hand ready at your weapon. A loud squeal comes bursting from the grass as a hog barrels out and away from you. You barely have a moment to turn around to the elf before a dagger is pressed to your throat. In seconds you are thrown to the ground tugging against strong arms ensnaring you.

“Now me and you are going to have a little chat. And you even think about pulling something and you’ll lose that darling neck of yours.” He all but purrs in your ear. You thrash against him, failing to pull the weapon away from your throat.

“Now I saw you on that ship, don’t even bother lying to me. What did you and those brain freaks do to me!?” He growls. You try to take a look at him but he has you pinned too tightly.

“I don’t have anything to do with those animals! I was taken, we all were!” You try to reason. Your temper begins to take over your fright. You escaped that hell hole. Fought tooth and bone to leave with your life. You would not be put down by some scared little elf. He bites back at you, focused on getting answers and not enough on how tight of a grip he has on you. Fury licks up the base of your body and fills your vision.

“Nice try but you’ll find me hard to convince, now what-“ you cut off his ranting as your leg wraps around one of his own. Your opposite arms elbow plants firmly in the ground as you swing yourself up and over the elf. You land him on his back; twisting his wrist in your right hand as your left hand reaches down to grab his now dropping blade. In one smooth motion your legs capture his frame under your own hip to hip as both of your hands ring around his stolen dagger. Confusion smears over his features as hands shoot up in defense. You just bring yourself to give into your anger, to drive the dagger directly into his heart for infuriating you with his insane tactics before your eyes meet. Crimson eyes meet your (e/c) ones. And the world falls out from beneath you. You plummet into a vast nothingness. Your heart gripped and laid bare. Vampire.

-

Astarions POV

-

Barely escaping out of a now wrecked ship with disguising brain maggots crawling from it was probably within the top ten worst days of Asatarion’s long life. His muscles ached and his neck throbbed from the impact of where he now found himself. Brushing off dirt from his sleeves, Asatarion rose to his nimble feet as he shook out the pains in his legs. He finds himself in a grassy plain. The ship that once held him hostage was now just over the horizon smashed in against a mountain. Wreckage spewed across the field with no hint as to where he now found himself. He had half a mind to just start walking and find somewhere someplace someone to end up in. But he remembered there were others, whether fellow captive or foe he was not sure. As if on cue, the crunch of feet on leaves and twigs ushered in behind him. A malicious smirk graced his handsome face. Now there was someone with answers. Or dinner. He could take it or leave it. The manic leer doesn’t leave his face as he feigns terror to his new audience. With a signal of his wagging hand he gestures for them to come forward.

“Quickly! I have one of those brain things cornered over here! Come kill it!” Soft steps quietly make their way towards and past him. Your frame comes into his view. Your (h/c) hair billows behind you as you step in front of him. He takes in your toned form flecked with blood and feels his hunger only grow. A tasty little treat. You appease his cries and look over into the clearing where grass covers most of what hides beneath. Just as you ready yourself for another battle a boar rushes out. Astarion jumps on your temporary confusion and pounces onto you. His blade reaches your neck as he hurls your joined bodies to the ground. You twist and curl from him as you listlessly fight from his grasp.

“Now me and you are going to have a little chat. And you even think about pulling something and you’ll lose that darling neck of yours.” Your face may be facing away from him but he can feel the anger pulsing in your rising blood pressure. Your suppulent artery thrums, tantalizing him under your (s/c) skin. He nearly loses himself there staring at your beating pulse. He reigns himself in, shaking the thoughts and desires to be dealt with momentarily.

“Now I saw you on that ship, don’t even bother lying to me. What did you and those brain freaks do to me!?” He spits. Your talon like nails dig into him as you fight back.

“I don’t have anything to do with those animals! I was taken, we all were!” You all but scream. Astarion snarls, the sound vibrating in his aching fangs. “Nice try but you’ll find me hard to convince, now what-“ Astarion finds himself interrupted as you maneuver your body to throw him under yourself. Your long legs hook under each of his own while you busy yourself with stealing his dagger. Astarion can’t help but be mildly impressed but confusion and annoyance soon take precedence. His hands shoot upwards to grab the weapon from your nimble hands. His gaze darts up to you and the moment your gazes lock it as if fire runs throughout his entire body. Every system, every neuron locks against his will. The rest of the world falls to the sidelines, the world blurring around you. You seem to have the same reaction as your muscles relax and a quizzical look takes over the fiery one of earlier.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” You sneer. Astarion puts on his most dazzling smile in hopes it covers the utter confusion he feels at what had just passed between the two of you.

“Astarion my dear, and what’s your name oh so deadly killer?” Your temper flares across your face at his teasing.

“(Y/n).” It sounds vaguely familiar. Like a name long forgotten wiggling in the back of his mind. Or it was the rabid worm that was placed there.

“If you are all done wrestling now, we have ground to cover!” Shadowheart yells. You look up at her, back to him and then back to her. Torn on whether to stab him or not, you decide on the latter. You hoist yourself up and side step away from him. Bringing himself up by the elbows Astarion takes a moment to look you over. Interesting.

Part 2 here

[bitchysouljellyfish]

Reassurance

Monk Tav is doubting herself. Good thing Tara is there to set her straight.

Border by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Strange how life works.

One day, you're out on a mission for your temple, quarterstaff resting comfortably in your hand as you trek through the streets of Baldur’s Gate looking for an inn to rest your head for the night before setting off bright and early in search of new and bright eyed recruits to send to the Order of the Yellow Rose to begin their training.

And then you’re abducted by a mindflayer ship, have a tadpole inserted into your skull, escape said nautiloid by crashing it, meet the craziest bunch of strangers you'd ever meet in your life, fight countless monsters, fall in love with the man you pulled out of a stone, subsequently save the world and now you're in Waterdeep, resting comfortably on a chaise in front of a roasting fire as the beginnings of winter makes its way through the Sword Coast with a tressym relaxing while you both wait for your fiancé to come back from shopping.

It is very strange how life works.

Tav never would've expected this was how her life would've turned out. She expected to spend the rest of her days in service to the temple, becoming a Grand Master and then training the next warriors of the Era before dying of whatever the gods deemed fit for her. But now? Now she was envisioning a future far from violence and grueling training, replaced with wedding bells, a dress her future mother in law wanted to help her find, and even considering tiny feet with even tinier tails and little nubs for horns.

That was in a not so distant future, however. First, Tav would have to deal with present problems. Mainly gaining the favor of the tressym before her and getting out of her own head.

Tara was like a second mother in law. Don’t mistake her, Tav adored the tressym and she was fairly certain she liked her as well, but there wasn’t much the two had in common. Tav wanted to know everything about Gale's life, and the ones most important to him, but having small talk?

She’d rather spend 12 hours in the Hashi with the grandmasters. It was awkward and so mind numbingly boring! There had to be a better way to get to know Tara better, and by extension, Morena. Nobody wants a daughter in law they know nothing about. Thankfully, sitting by the balcony with a book on her lap about the latest experiments of the thunder wave spell and its effects on the body, she finally had her chance.

Gale was out, getting… something he wouldn’t tell her, but Tara had stayed behind, napping and cozily roasting her feet by the fire to combat the first chills of Waterdeep until a flurry of wings interrupted her sleep. Almost immediately Tara perked up and got into position to pounce on the unsuspecting pigeon. Her wings positioned tight against her body while her rear end wiggled.

Tav had to cover her mouth to stifle the giggles as her own tail flicked back and forth with glee against the couch. That caught Tara’s attention as well, unfortunately, the wide open pupils narrowed into tiny slits again.

“Oh, please forgive me Tara. I don’t mean to laugh,” she says, curling her tail around her feet. “Its just- I love the look on your face when you get so determined like that.”

“Not to worry, Tav.” Tara left the pigeon alone and hopped onto the arm of the chair she was sitting on. “You probably got me at just the right time. I did promise Mr. Dekarios to leave some of the pigeon population alone, but he said nothing about watching the little devils.”

“Gale was probably just worried about any messages being lost.” She says and sets the book to the side. “Are you hungry, Tara? I could cook something for you! Despite what Gale and the others have said about my cooking, I have perfected some dishes.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, my dear.” A tiny paw pats the back of her hand, almost motherly. “Not hungry, just a bit bored I’m afraid. Mr. Dekarios said he would bring something back for the both of us and now it has me sitting on pins and needles.” Tara’s ears perked up before laying flat against her head. “Oh dear, I’ve said too much.”

“No, No, Its ok!” It was nice to hear Gale was planning something. “I promise, I won’t tell a soul you said something, but if you’re bored why don’t we do something together? We could play lanceboard, or um let’s see…”

A soft chuckle came from the winged feline before her, stretching herself out as she climbed onto Tav’s lap. “why are you so nervous my dear? It is just old Tara, we’re all part of the same family. Or will be once you and Mr. Dekarios settle on a wedding date.”

Tav sighed and leaned back against the cushions, hovering her hand over Tara’s soft fur before being granted permission to pet. “but you aren’t just Tara. You’re Gale’s oldest and most dearest friend, practically a second mother to him. I’m just- forgive me it’s silly of me.”

“Its not silly if it’s causing you this much turmoil. Come now,” she hopped off her lap and pulled at Tav’s tail with a quickly conjured Mage Hand-well Paw- to lead her. “Come have some tea. I know Gale bought some of that delicious jasmine tea just for you that I myself have been dying to try.”

Tav fumbled with her fingers as she followed the tressym, feeling more and more like a bumbling fool than a respected monk of the Order of the Yellow Rose. She could beat down goblins, minotaurs, mindlfayers, hell she defeated the Elder Brain and lived to tell the tale!

But Gale wasn’t a problem she could just train and fight away. He wasn’t a problem at all, mind you, but he meant everything to her. Her first true love, the man she saved the world with and the one who encouraged her every step of the way and looked at her with such love she had no idea what to do with it. Tav wanted to make sure she was just as good as he thought she was, the person that he told his family about. Tav wasn’t sure if she could handle them being disappointed in who she really was.

She felt so weak for being like this, but at the same time hated doubting her feelings. For all the good the monks did for her, regulating emotions was not one of the skills taught. Gale had been blissfully patient, waiting while she literally punched her feelings out and comforted her with bandages around her knuckles and a healing potion to amend the damages she’d done to herself.

Gale made her feel like a teenager with their first crush, fumbling over themselves trying to get the feelings out while Gale just… did it. He did it with such ease it made the monk jealous and made her cheeks frightfully warm while all she could do was silence his praises with a kiss that hopefully took his breath away. It was rather ridiculous , as they were to be married some time soon.

Tara showed her where Gale had kept the tea and waited patiently while it brewed, loafing on the table.

“Now, tell Tara what's on your mind. I can guarantee that this conversation stays just between the two of us. “

Tav smiled and poured them each a cup. “Thank you for this. I just…” She chewed on her lip. “I cant help but feel out of my element. Domesticity, peace, tranquility. The monks spoke about it all the time, but it's so different than actually living it. I'm not complaining, don’t misunderstand me, Waterdeep is amazing and I love Gale with my entire being, but…”

“You feel as if you're waiting for the ball to drop.” Tara finished for her. “so to speak?”

Tav sighed and drummed her nails against the tea cup. “Yes. I feel as if Gale will one day realize he wants a real wife, one who can cook without burning a dish, who had a normal upbringing, one who doesn't… doesn't have nightmares about battles long past and can go out for a walk without constantly looking over her shoulder. I’m afraid I’ll be alone again, and I'm not sure I can handle that heart break.”

Tara ignored her cup of tea and trotted over to her side. “My dear, if you think that Gale would ever do such a thing I'm afraid you don't know him at all.”

“Huh?”

Tara put a paw on her hand, “You truly haven't seen the way that man looks at you when you don't notice or what he has done to make you comfortable here. And I don't mean that to sound cruel, I'm sure Gale hid it from you on purpose. Look over there, under the spice rack. That is a cookbook filled with recipes for warriors to keep their energy and maintain their physique. In his desk, he has a book on learning Infernal because he knows you mutter to yourself as you plan your next training session, and he wants to speak to you in your mother tongue. My, when we were out shopping the other day, he stopped a tiefling couple to ask about tail language so he could better understand your emotions.”

As Tara continued, Tav’s face kept getting warmer, her tail beat against the floor with her growing joy and her heart beat ever faster. How had she not noticed any of this? She prides herself on her perception, but all of this slipped past her detection?

“That isn't to say you don't put in the same effort. I've seen the way you clean up his potions, reading your own books on magic and the Weave to understand his passion better. I've also seen the look of complete and utter joy you have on your face when he goes on about his lectures. You don't patronize him, you don't roll your eyes, you pay attention as if you were one of his students. Yes, you two met and went through incredible circumstances, but that means you two have seen each other at your worst and still live each other with everything you have. My dear, Mrs. Dekarios absolutely adores you because you make him so happy! Believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about.”

Tara gasped when two hands went under her front limbs and she was brought into a tight hug with the subtle dampness that was beginning to grow on her fur. She nudged her head against Tav’s chin to comfort her. “Oh no, did I say something wrong? It wasn’t my intention to-“

“No, you said everything right.” Tav sniffed to try and avoid getting about and tears in her fur. “I cant believe- I didn't realize, but thank you, Tara, for everything.” The tiefling set her back down gently, wiping her face as she did. “I… I love him so much, so much so that I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much. And to have that confirmation makes it all the sweeter. You’re a wonderful friend Tara, and I’m so thankful to be apart of your family.”

Tara rubbed against her face and purred loudly. “I feel the same, Tav. You saved my little love, and I will be forever grateful to you.”

“I’m home!” Gale’s voice echoed through the tower, unintentionally interrupting the tender moment.

Tav didn’t waste any time, pressing a gentle kiss to Tara’s forehead before rushing down the steps to welcome her love home. Tara stayed at the table and started drinking her tea, her purrs getting louder as she heard the subtle noises of a smothering of kisses and gentle admonishes from her family.

“My love, I’m happy to see you too- dearest I’m holding gifts-give me a mome-“

A crash, followed by mirthful laughter from both parties made a chuckle flow from Tara as well.

Yes, she thought, this was a love that would be told about for ages.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

The Tortured Fangirl Department - How Did it End?

| Gale Dekarios x fem!reader

summary: after weeks of fighting, Gale and y/n have broken up in the middle of the journey, leaving one another, and the party, bereft and reeling.

cw: aaangst, tragic break up, spiders, drinking, mentions of intimacy

an: I made myself sad with this one. Inspired by "How Did it End?" by Taylor Swift.

wc: 2.3k

Dawn broke over the horizon, painting the mist silver and cerulean, and y/n emerged from her tent alone.

Astarion glanced up from fire, towards the ephemeral horizon, then snapped his head back to y/n. Karlach’s bite of jerky fell from her slack jaw.

The last time y/n slept in her own tent…well, no one could remember the last time she slept in her own tent. From the moment she and Gale connected, they'd been inseparable. As entwined as blood and tissue.

“Morning, y/n,” Wyll said, much more couth than the other two waking members of the party.

“Morning,” she said, walking past them and towards the path that led to the lake, a bundle of clothing in her arms.

“You don't think…” Karlach said, nodding towards Gale’s still closed tent.

Astarion shrugged. “Their fighting was growing rather tiresome anyways. I'll be glad for the quiet.”

Wyll rolled his eyes. “We have no idea what happened. Don't presume.”

Ten minutes later, there was shuffling from Gale's tent and finally, the wizard emerged. He was pale-faced and sallow, his hair ruffed and tunic rumpled.

No one spoke as he approached the fire and dropped heavily onto a log. Wyll passed him a pewter mug of ale, and Gale swirled it around, but didn't drink.

“Well, you look like shit,” Astarion said, red eyes narrowed.

Gale didn't look up, didn't even appear to have heard the vampire at all.

Wyll shot Astarion a scathing glare. “Dekarios, what happened?” he asked.

Gale lifted the mug to his lips, taking a tentative sip of the lukewarm brew. His mouth was so dry, he could barely speak, his throat raw. The words nearly choked him, shards of a misery tearing apart his tongue.

“It ended,” he said finally, more breath than language, and a tear rolled down his cheek, soaking into his uncombed beard.

The three of them gasped.

“Over an idiotic fight?” Astarion scoffed.

A ripple of anger broke Gale's stoicism, and he leveled the vampire with a loathsome glare.

“Love is dead!” Karlach wailed, flopping back onto the dirt with her arms flung wide.

“How did it end?” Wyll asked, half concerned for the wellbeing Gale and y/n, half concerned for the future of the party. If this disrupted their dynamic…

“I can't pretend like I understand,” Gale said, resting his forehead on his fingers. “But that doesn't make it hurt less.” The pain was a live thing in his chest, a serpent constricting his heart, tangling his intestines, choking his lungs. No injury sustained in battle compared to the agony of losing her. He would take a thousand stab wounds, a million lashings, over this.

Why was his love never enough?

For most of the night prior, he wondered if it would kill him. The grief. When his eyes opened this morning to see her side of his bedroll empty, he wished it had.

He wished he'd never left the tower. The safety of his books and spells. That was where he belonged, not adventuring with a beautiful dryad, exploring the realm hand in hand, heart to heart.

Now, he was lost.

“I'm sorry, friend—” Rustling from the trees interrupted Wyll, and Gale lowered his head between his knees.

Y/n returned from the lake, her hair hanging in wet tangles down her back. Her damp skin shined in the early morning sunlight, and Gale felt his heart shatter all over again.

Her eyes lingered on him a fraction longer than they should, noting the disarray of his hair, his usually immaculate clothing wrinkled. Her splintered heart gave a painful lurch, the agony stealing her breath.

It took every ounce of resolve to walk past the party, walk past her lost love, and into her sparse tent. So many of her things were still in his. So much of her was tangled with him, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever extract it all. Gale would always have a piece of her.

Tears ran down Gale's face, dripping onto the ground below as he fought to control his breathing, to hide from her, from all of them the depth of his hurt. It was his own fault, after all.

If he had just let the stupid books burn…

But he couldn't, he wouldn't. It was antithetical to who he was, everything he believed in. So what if he risked his hide in the process? That was his risk to make.

Still, he knew how badly his decision hurt y/n. How angry she was that he would risk himself, risk abandoning her in this horrible, merciless world over some paper and ink. And he knew that if she put herself in the same amount of danger he had, it would rock him to his core. He'd never let her out of his sight again.

She said she could no longer trust him or his judgement. Couldn't trust her heart in his flippant hands. And broke his spirit clean in half.

Y/n slipped into her tent, wiping hard at the tears rolling down her cheeks. She wanted so badly to be angry with him, to blame him for the death of them. She wanted to scream, to roar, but their ending was little more than a death rattle.

It was just…over. Ended.

So why was her mind in shambles? A torrent of blame and guilt and fear? Gale had been her anchor, her harbor, and now she was left reeling.

Desperately, viscerally, she wanted him. So much so it hollowed her out inside, tears pouring until she floated like a ghost, bereft and empty.

Her tent flap lifted, and Karlach poked her head in. “Wyll wants us to move out in ten. Astarion is staying behind.” Which meant she and Gale would be going on a mission today. Together.

Y/n slumped back onto her bedroll. “Understood,” she said.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

For the two days journey, they barely spoke. It had been a grueling treck up the western mountains though blistering wind and snow.

Y/n had been forced to share a tent with Karlach both nights to ensure she didn't freeze to death.

Gale had also placed a warming spell on her blankets, rousing himself every hour to ensure it didn't lapse. But, y/n didn't need to know that.

She'd probably rather die of hypothermia than accept help from him at the moment, a thought that brought him momentary amusement, then a deep, gnawing sadness.

Countless nights like these had been spent curled up together in his bed roll, warmed to sweltering by the cantrip and searching hands, greedy mouths.

"Gale," she'd gasp, hushed and honeyed as he lapped beads of sweat from the valley of her throat, the plane of her sternum. Her thigh slung over his hip, the hearth of her pressed against him, beckoning him closer as they rocked together, one fluid tide of movement.

The soft heat of her was everything he'd ever dreamed of, everything he'd never dare hope for. He wanted to sink into her depths, into her skin, into her bones. Bury himself like this forsaken worm into the chambers of her heart, the most sacred tomb.

An ache radiated through his entire body, rendering him unable to speak, unable to stand up straight, to eat, for the rest of their journey.

He'd never felt so weak in his life.

When they reached the summit of the mountain, a den of Giant Spiders separated them from the treasure they saught: a long-buried tomb of an ancient wizard, inside one which was allegedly a powerful relic of healing. One they hoped may rid them of their squirming ailment.

The battle with spiders was never-ending, wave after wave of arachnids descending from the web-covered stalagmites. More then once Gale’s carelessness nearly got him poisoned, or worse, flung from the side of the mountain. Y/n, per usual, fought valiantly and with unshakeable focus, a lethal fighting force unto herself. A quality he deeply admired and envied in equal measure.

Lost in his heartache as he watched her fell one of the largest of the pack, a lesser spider managed to knock him off balance, sending his staff skittering across the stone. The beast loomed over him, venom dripping with an acrid hiss onto the stone by his head.

For a horrible, exhilarating moment, he thought it might kill him. End his suffering once and for all. But then a vicious snap echoed across the cavern. A tendril of magic wrapped around the spiders forelimb more inches from his nose, then wrenched it away from him. Y/n and her thorn whip never missed. Another lash, and Y/n bound it's other legs, giving Wyll an opening to deal the death blow.

He held her stare for half a dozen heartbeats, trying to convey the torment of his soul, his gratitude, his anguish. Why didn't you let it kill me?

Y/n’s expression wavered, offering him the briefest glimpse of her heart, and cleaved through his chest like she'd lashed him.

He had done that, had wounded her so mortally. And still, she saved him.

How could ever make this up to her? He didn't deserve forgiveness, but did that mean he shouldn't try?

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Halfway back to camp, during his watch, Gale noticed y/n’s breathing shift over the roar of Karlach's snores. She woke with a start, a cry at the edge of her lips as she often did at the start of their relationship.

Nightmares had always plagued her, but with Gale, they had retreated almost entirely. He'd bundle her in his arms, her ear pressed against the mark of the netherese orb, and he'd start recounting whatever he'd read that day in excruciating, mind-numbing detail, or hum whatever song was top of mind. The words mattered not, just the coordinate drone of his voice was often enough to lull her into a dreamless slumber.

Goaded by the memories, Gale began to hum, a low, throaty song of unknown origin, one he'd picked up somewhere over the last decades.

Y/n slid back under her bedroll, trembling slightly, and tried to focus on the timbre of Gale's voice, let it wash away the gruesome images in her mind. Gale's face half melted from venom. Her parents home engulfed in flame, their bodies charred and husk-like. Curled up like children.

He began to hum another song, a lilting ballad they'd danced to this past Midsummer Festival. She'd been wearing an impractical, gauzy thing, dyed the most gorgeous lavender shade. A color she'd picked just for him. He was rendered speechless when she stepped into the summer sun, and instead offered a devotional of open-mouthed kisses along every stitch of bare skin, blazing a sinful path that she felt the rest of the evening, and for days after.

He had held her so gently while they danced, his forearm bracketed between her shoulder blades, claiming but not commanding. The air smelled of saltwater and citrus, a drowsy heat dulling their worries of tomorrow.

When the song ended, Gale dropped a kiss along her exposed shoulder, up her neck, until his lips found hers, delicate as spun sugar and just as sweet.

The memory warmed her, settled into her bones and sinnew. She nearly caved. Nearly crawled across the rough, frozen ground to him just so he'd make a fuss over her, use his magic, his body, to warm her back up.

But she resisted, covered her ears against the torture of his melody, and did not move until morning.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“How long has it been?” Gale asked Wyll, clapping the tome in his lap shut.

Wyll rolled his eyes. “Twenty more minutes than the last time you asked me.”

Karlach, Astarion, and y/n had gone into town together for dinner and a few celebratory drinks. Normally, Gale would have insisted he accompany them, but he couldn't stomach hours of his drunken party members vying for his vacant spot at her side.

He knew y/n had no interest in the others beyond companionship, but Gale was jealous by nature, and was unwilling to subject himself to further torment.

Voices floated through the trees, drunken and obnoxiously loud, and Karlach and y/n stumbled into camp.

Karlach had y/n by the waist, keeping her upright. And from wandering off and into trouble, from Gale's experience. Astarion was right behind them, blood on his chin and tunic, his hair a wild halo of white.

“Have fun?” Wyll asked, his tone sharper than his expression let on.

“Hyuk—yes!” Y/n shouted, tripping over her boots and nearly collapsing.

Gale gave Karlach a warning glare, and the tiefling scoffed.

“You take care of her then, Mr. Perfect Wizard!” Karlach shoved y/n into his arms, almost knocking them both over with her strength.

“Look! All better!” Astarion cooed, petting Gale’s hair as he sauntered by. “The misery was worse then the fighting. Honestly, how long until you kiss and make up?”

Wyll grabbed the vampire by the hair and shoved him into his tent, but Gale paid them no mind, too busy staring down at the giggling bundle of darling in his arms once more.

“Hi, Gale,” y/n whispered, her eyes wide and watery.

“Hello, sweetling,” he hummed, adjusting her so her head rested more comfortably on his shoulder. It was the first words they'd exchanged in weeks, and they left Gale reeling with hope.

Stupid, feckless, traitorous hope.

She traced a finger over his nose, through his overgrown beard, and across his jaw, the muscle feathering with tension. He grasped her smaller hand gently, brushing a kiss over her inner wrist before placing it back into her lap. A tiny indulgence, a moment of weakness.

“Gale,” she breathed, fisting his violet coat.

They couldn't do this. Not while she was drunk, not while the party stood idly by and watched. Not when he knew she'd regret it as soon as inhibition returned.

He couldn't add another regret to the ledger.

“C’mon, love. Let's get you to bed.” He rose with her cradled in his arms, a gesture that once felt like birthright, but somehow became foreign.

She didn't protest, instead buried her face into the warm crook of his neck, breathing in his scent of parchment and candlesmoke. Her lips moved of their own accord, pressing against the drum of his pulse, and a shiver rolled down his spine.

He set y/n down on her bedroll, carefully removing her boots and weapons before tucking her into it. He thought she'd drifted off, her eyes closed and breathing even, limbs heavy against the ground, but when he turned to leave she caught his wrist.

“How did it end?” she asked.

“This isn't the end,” he murmured, brushing and errant lock from her cheek. “We simply learned the right steps to different dances.”

Her brow furrowed, her head shaking side to side. "I'm a terrible dancer"

For the first time in weeks, Gale felt himself smile. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, then another on the corner of her mouth.

“Then, we'll learn again, my love. As many times as it takes.”

Fin. 💜

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thank you so much for reading!

If you're interested in exploring my published work, you can find my debut novel here.

Much love,

Allie

[6dayday9]

No, because I need someone to write about male tav/reader having sex with Astarion in front of an enchanted mirror or something T_T

[strangeshoepatrolbandit]

I'm getting a new up-to-date console this weekend, which means I can finally play "Baldur's Gate 3".

How would we feel about some Astarion fic's?

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 3

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

Astarion learns more on vampiric mates while you do odd jobs in town. Scraping up enough money your merry gang gets to rest well tonight. Though there’s only one problem, there’s only one bed.

It took another two days before your merry band finally made it to the first town. More hours of Gale’s snores and sleep talking of magical items. Or the way Karlach randomly set fire to something now twice in her sleep. Wyll played some tune non stop on a ukulele you swear just to annoy you. Not to mention the bickering and fighting when they were awake. After getting no sleep you demanded to the group that you would all pitch in and do some odd jobs to afford a stay at a tavern for a night. Anything to give you a chance at relaxation and a soft mattress. Everyone agreed to meet at the town square at the beginning of sundown. The hours before that were up to each entirely.

You first went into the town square in hopes of finding someone to offer you an easy quest for a fee. Perusing the marketplace you find a dressmaker eager to find someone for help.

“My my my! You’re perfect for the job! I was just in need of some help, thank the Gods! I need you to run to this store and grab the fabric on hold for Marteen, then meet me at my shop after the market closes.” He hands you a wrinkled piece of paper with the name of the shop on it. You nod your thanks and head out to said shop.

Astarion immediately abandoned the idea of doing some side quest and instead goes to find the local bookkeeper. The town was quaint in size but he hoped large enough to have some of a selection on what he was looking for. 200 years as a vampire and still his knowledge of vampirism was slim to none. Most of it from passing mouths. Fellow spawn were more than likely in his similar predicament and just as naive to the ways of the vampire world. Anyone higher on the food chain wasn’t keen on educating. Here and there in his travels for prey he heard whispers of things. Knowledge of vampire mates was mostly rumor, common gossip with no real evidence. Astarion had only met one other vampire to have met his mate. At the time the bond seemed weak to him. A cause for a future exploitation. A bother. He never believed himself to be plagued with such nonsense and had not thought to ask more of it. Astarion made his way up the old brick library steps and into the establishment. Years of neglect were evident in every crevice of the place. Spiderwebs littered every corner and shelves of books were caked with years of dust. Astarion tried his best to hide his disgust and made his way to the front desk. An old human woman sat slouched in her chair dozing off. Astarion cleared his throat, waking the woman. She fixed her overly large glasses before squinting up at Astarion. He gives his most award winning smile in return.

“How can I help you stranger?” She croaks.

“I was wondering if you had anything on a special type of creature? A vampire perhaps?” Astarion asks nicely. Her bushy brows furrow in confusion.

“Sorry, things of that nature need special clearance given by the governor. Something about too many impressionable kids trying to bite one another.” She waves her hand away as she finishes talking. She goes to turn away from him as Astarions hand darts across the desk. His thumb and forefinger caress the old woman’s chin as he gently turns her head back to him. Astarion leans close, breath mingling with the librarians. With his best bedroom eyes Astarion pleads once again.

“Please dear? I swear I shan’t be more than a moment.” The woman’s face lights up beet red as she flusters under his touch.

“I mean- I- well I mean- if if if you really won’t be more than a second than I guess it’s okay.” She stutters out.

“Perfect. Just point me in the direction, love.” Astarion purrs. The woman scuffles from behind her desk and grabs a set of keys from her pocket. Astarion follows as she leads him further into the library towards an old vault door. With a turn of a key she guides him to the shelving labeled V.

“Please don’t be long, my boss will be around any moment!” She giggles behind her wrinkled hand. Her blush still evident as she walks away. Astarions face drops back to a resting neutral once she’s out of sight and he makes his way through the novels. There are only a few books pertaining to vampires. His fingers slide over titles of “How to Properly Slay a Vampire” and “Vampire Bites for Medical Use”. None contain anything about mates. A growl of frustration leaves him before he’s manically ripping through books across the shelves. Books and scrolls fly through the air before Astarions rage stops in its tracks. Mid throw Astarion reads the title of the small book in his hand. “Mates in Five Different Species: Fate Driven Partnership”. Astarion just about rips the book open before he hears the patter of the woman’s footsteps coming closer. He rushes out the door and slams it behind him. The woman jumps at his sudden movements just outside the chambers.

“You have been so lovely, thank you. I must go, good day!” Astarion shouts over his shoulder before dashing outside. The woman’s shriek at his mess is the last he hears as he makes for the door and rounds the corner. Finding a secluded alleyway, Astarion makes himself comfortable on top of a wooden crate and cracks open the book.

Vampiric Mates:

Vampire mating is a rarity within the species. Only about an average of 31% of vampires have mates. Of that 31% only 3% of their mates were non-vampire in manner. Courtship of mates in vampires comes within three stages: sight, taste, consummation. The beginnings of the mating correspond with the first mutual stare between the partners. Mating is then felt in its entirety with a touch of either lips or genitalia. Finally, the mate bond is accepted for eternity with consummation of the partnership.

Astarions eyebrows shoot up as he reads. He had already completed two damned steps without even realizing.

Though the “feeling” of a mate may differ slightly from vampire to vampire, similarities are shown throughout each recorded mating. Feelings of a something similar to a cord “tightening” is usually the most common sign. Feelings of falling, fainting or loss of emotions momentarily have also been recorded. It is believed to be innate to each vampire to recognize a mate once seen.

Astarion thinks back to the shared bargain kiss you had made a few nights earlier. The feeling of a band wrapping and tightening in his core. The way he felt his stomach drop. He had thought himself nauseous from not drinking enough but in reality he knew he was denying it. Denying the feeling he felt with that first look. Something so ingrained biologically he couldn’t shoo it away. He flips to the section labeled “Vampire Mates: Other Species Mate”.

Mates of a vampire not already afflicted with vampirism upon meeting may be at a disadvantage. Though similar feelings may be present they will not be as strong as they are for the vampire mate. The mate also may not feel the same feelings of possessiveness and aching as the vampire mate will. Non vampire mates may not inherently realize what has happened without further education.

Astarion reads the last sentence several times over. You didn’t even know. He could continue on this little adventure and you would never be the wiser of what was unfolding between the two of you. A large part of Astarion was glad, gleeful even, to not have to worry about this further. But a small, quiet and forgotten part of his brain felt remorse at the thought. Astarion was about to continue to read through the entire section before he noticed the beginnings of the sunset. Realizing he would be meeting back with your party shortly, Astarion leaps from his seat on the crate and moves through the alleyways. He knows if he shows up empty handed you won’t let him hear the end of it. He knows your still deciding on whether or not you want to plant your stake right into his heart anyhow. Moving through side streets and back alleys Astarion moves with grace between drunks and gamblers. Swift and nimble, his hands dip into their pockets and empty them of any useful change. With a bit of money to his name, Astarion takes a main road back to the square. Though an image to his right stops him in his tracks, you.

A bit earlier -

Fabrics in hand, you huff down the street to Marteens shop. The fabric store was on the very outskirts of town. Nothing more than an old witch with a spindle, calling it a shop was a bit excessive. Though the lady was kind enough, you spent far too much time to get there as well as listen to the old woman gab as she got your order together. You finally step up to Marteen’s Dress Shop and softly knock on the door. Large floor to ceiling windows show the interior from the front. Mannequins dressed in beautiful floor length gowns adorn the left and right side. A small podium sits in the middle awaiting a blushing bride to try on her future gown. Marteen opens the door and beams at you.

“Please come in, come in!” He waves you in. He helps unload the several bits of fabric from your grasp. Luxurious rolls of dark blood red fabric, black lace, and golden trimmings leave your hands. You help bring everything else into the shop. Marteen unloads the rolls onto a long table next to the front podium. You stand next to him admiring the cloths.

“It really is beautiful.” You whisper, more to the fabrics than the man. He smiles at you as he grabs a mostly made dress from his back room. The same fabric is made into a long gown in his arms. A tight black bodice corsets the top as gold accents the sides. Crimson fabric layers on top of eachother at the bottom as it bellows out into a sweep gown.

“Before you go, could I ask you one more job? I’ll throw in a few extra coin!” Marteen asks.

“Sure, what can I get you next?” You ask.

“This dress, it’s for my daughter. It’s nearly complete save the sleeves and a bit of patching in the back. You look about her size, mind being my model? I’d ask her, but it’s a bit of a surprise.” You really hadn’t expected that. It had been a very very long time since you worn something so exquisite. Back before your parents had been murdered. Back when your father threw elegant balls for nothing more than to fill the manor with good company and better wine. Back before life became what it is. You shake the thought before they take hold.

“Sure why not.” You shrug.

Cinched into the velvet fabric feels like a dream against your skin. Marteen expertly sewed beautiful bell bottom sleeves with black lace endings onto each arm. Gold is hemmed in the sides to accentuate your curves. Flowing black ribbon ties in the bodice tightly. Marteen smiles broadly, proud of himself. You do a small twirl at his command and watch the fabric flow with your movements. You can’t help the giggle that takes over you as you sway.

“It’s perfect! Absolutely perfect!” Marteen glows.

“It is! It’s absolutely perfe-“ your words die half way through your throat when through the front glass you see a gawking Astarion. Shame and anger sweep over your momentary glee. You clench your hands and jaw as you stare him down. A smug look takes over his face as he watches you. Marteen comes and looks over your shoulder.

“Oh, is that your betrothed?” He asks innocently. You can’t help the sarcastic laugh that leaves your lips.

“As if! Never in a million lifetimes.” You reply coldly, eyes narrowing. Marteen gives you a puzzled look.

“By the way he looks at you in that dress, I would have thought otherwise.” Marteen tosses over his shoulder.

—

Astarion had good intentions, brilliant and easy intentions. Seduce you, con you, but never fall for you. To overcome the illness of being mated. He was determined, arrogant even in his belief that this mating was nothing more than a silly joke from the universe. He could get over a few fleeting feelings, he had endured much worse in centuries of slavery and solitude. But those resolutions all but melt away at the sight of you. He watches you twirl in a dress fit for a vampiric queen. Blood red accentuating your body, long fabric flowing with your movements. An easy smile gracing your lips. That familiar coil in his chest begged his attention once again. An ache fills his long canines to sink into the soft nape of your neck. All he could do was stare at your form, the way your lips looked so mesmerizing in that easy smile. An animalistic urge shook him with the thought that that smile should be for him, not some gown maker. The thought vanished as quickly as it comes as you find his stare and match it with a look that could kill. Gods, this was going to be harder than he thought.

-

Redressed, you collect your payment and meet Astarion out in the front of the shop. He gives you a fake saddened look.

“Here I was out doing honest work and you’re trying on gowns. Really, (y/n) you outta be ashamed.” He tuts at you. You wag your finger in his face.

“I was doing work blood sucker! Besides, there isn’t a way in the 9 realms of hell you did any honest work.” You accuse him. At your words Astarion pulls the money he had collected from his pocket. Your finger stops mid wag as you look at the coins in his hand.

“Now now now, nothing to say little killer? What will the others think when I tell them?” Astarion muses. He starts to make his way towards the center of town. It takes you a moment to catch up with him.

“You are not to tell them anything! Do you hear me, or so help me-“ you threaten.

“Or what, drive a stake through my heart? Last time you tried that you ended up kissing me. Really you need to learn better threats.” Astarion teases. You swear you see red. You just about open your mouth before Astarions face comes smack dab in front of yours.

“Besides dear, we both know you need me more than you want to kill me.” He whispers to you. You stare him down fighting the urge to hit him with all your strength. All it does is make his cocky smile grow bigger. An awkward throat clearing brings the two of you apart as Gale stands in front of you.

“Hmm well if you’re all done with your lover's quarrel, we were going to put our money together.” You want to argue that a lovers quarrel was very very far from the truth but you instead take role. Counting the money together you think you have enough for all of you to grab a bunk for the night. You had spotted an inn earlier and lead the group towards it.

-

The inn was one of the larger buildings in the area. It hosted a tavern on its first floor, home to beer drinking and dinner. The next two stories were dedicated to rentals. Thankfully, there was just enough space for two to a room with a small bed for each. Everyone argued who was going to bunk with you. Given your earlier appearances everyone had already voted you and Astarion to a room. You just about lost your head in front of the kind old inn woman.

“Come on, the lovers can share a romantic evening together!” Karlach teased.

“There is no lovers and there will be no romance!” You seethe.

“Honestly, I mean Gods knows I can do better.” Astarion chimes in.

“Now what is that suppose to mean-“ you turn your attention to the white haired Vampire. He raises his hands in mock defense.

“Aw the lovers are fighting again.” Shadowheart replies. The old woman behind the desk gives a small chuckle.

“Oh deary, I completely understand. You two need a special room. Here darling, on the house. Last door on the right.” The woman gives a set of keys over to you. You thank her for her understanding and set off in the direction she gave you. Astarion is on your heels as you ascend to the rental rooms on the third floor. The rest get together with their designated partner for the night and set off to their rooms for the night. You set the key to the lock and turn it.

“I hope you know I’ll be getting the largest bed, beauty sleep needed and all.” Astarion quips. You don’t have the function to respond as you peer into the room. The room is massive. There’s a beautiful fainting couch overlooking large windows peering into the valley below. Velvet curtains hang in the windows. A fire roars off to the left corner in a stone fireplace. A plush bear rug lines the middle of the space. And right there, dead center, is only one large king bed.

Part one here

Part four here

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 10 Final

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

The finale. The meeting that has been destined in the stars. Shall you both agree to the mating bond, or go separate ways?

Words seep into your brain and wash it in all this new information. You read and reread the passage on Vampiric Mates as if it could give you anything new. It feels like your brain is processing and then restarting at the last moment. This couldn’t be right, right? If it is, if you two are mates, then Astarion knew. He knew and he didn’t tell you. He didn’t tell you when you met, didn't tell you when you had kissed him. Hells he didn’t even tell you when you fucked in that abandoned temple. You had gone through every step of the mating process without a single inkling of understanding. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to feed this into your earlier rage at Astarion’s dismissal of you. But it honestly just made it make sense. Mates didn’t get to choose whom their mate was destined to be. He didn’t have a choice. He never once had a choice in 200 years and once again the universe did not give him a chance. The moment he tastes freedom, feels the sun on his skin again, he lays eyes on his mate. Not just any average person, a vampire hunter with a thirst for blood. Who damn near kills him in his tent. Were you still upset at being duped? Upset he ran instead of talked to you? Of course, you still wanted to punch him in his stupid perfect elf face. But more so you wanted to talk to him. To know what he felt, if this meant anything to him. If you meant anything to him. At the thought of you not, it made your stomach lurch. You recognize the feeling for what it is. That tightening rope feeling. A bond tie. A tethering to him that sung each time you thought of him or were near him. You had thought yourself just a silly schoolgirl for feeling such a strong emotion with his presence. Now it finally made sense. This whole adventure so far made so much more sense. You stood quickly and took a deep inhale. You needed to make this right. You needed to find him. You needed to find your mate.

-

Astarion tears through his chest once more as he paws his belongings again and again. Everything was here but that damned book. Worse yet, your scent lingered around the chest as if mocking him. He wants to believe it will magically appear under some shirt and silly old Astarion simply missed it. But the back of his mind knew better. He saw the hurt and rage in your eyes last time you saw one another. In that dim tavern stockroom. You had ran from him so fast he had barely a moment to think. By the time he got to camp he could smell you had been there, the one trait he is thankful for with this bond. Your scent trailed from his tent to yours. He hadn’t even thought of why you had been near his tent. Without a second thought he had paced near yours. It wasn’t until he gave up and went to his own tent that he thought more about it. Especially with your scent wrapped inside. That’s how he came to be here, rifling through his own things. Desperately hoping you didn’t see the one thing that carried his secret. Well, both of yours secret. His hand rakes back his perfectly sculpted hair as he tries to catch his breath. He had two options. Find and confront you, which seemed horrible. Or pack a bag and run for the high hills and never look back. As much as that option entices him he realizes he couldn’t even if he wanted to. One being that the tadpole would still be a problem and not one he believes he could fix on his own. Secondly it would mean leaving his mate. A dark gnarled pain twists through his spine at the thought. Even just imagining leaving you, never seeing you again woke some ancient horrible feeling that burrowed deep. Well, that left option one. Astarion stood, he tried and failed to calm his nerves. He was just about to open his tent flap when your hand poked through the opening. You lean into the tent and make eye contact with Astarion. The connection bursts through a feeling of utter euphoria. Both of your bodies flamed with the feeling of the entwined bond. Your skin tingles as if it begs to touch his. He feels the same as his teeth aching to plunge into your delectable neck and claim you as his own. To bite every surface you have exposed. As much as he wants to throw himself at you. To forget words and let his body do the talking, he resists. He was tired of that being his form of communication. Of sex and touch being the way people got to him. Of how they perceived him. He wanted.. more. He had not a single clue what “more” included. But he wanted to try. No matter how much it made his fight or flight trigger deep in his belly. His feet ready to take option two and start running. But instead he clears his throat. You reach behind you and hand the mating book to Astarion.

“I believe this belongs to you.” You start, timidly. Your eyes say it all. Your (e/c) eyes swimming with apprehension. You’re so visibly nervous it reminds Astarion of a tender little lamb. Frightful but curious. Anticipating with anxiety. He, the lion, wanting to gobble the lamb whole.

“I guess that means we need to talk.” He replies, not sure how to start this conversation. You just nod your head, Astarion opens his mouth ready to let whatever words spew from his mouth but you hold a finger up.

“Not here… maybe somewhere private?” You ask. He only nods, ready to follow you anywhere you take him. You hold out a hand to him and await his. He looks down at your open palm. How warm and inviting it is. The thought of even just holding your hand sparking hope in his chest. He knew better than to think this was anything but you letting him down. Of denying wanting to intermingle with someone with as much baggage as him. Someone as damaged as him. He wouldn’t blame you one bit. Really he would think it for the best. For you to break this bond and not go near him; or Cazador for that matter. But then you give him a small smile and usher with your hand once again. He tentatively puts his hand in yours. But maybe he could have just a little hope.

You lead him past your fellow companions' tents holding his hand. A few eyes watch you as you make your way towards the forest. Karlach meets your eyes and gives two big thumbs up which nearly makes you snort if it wasn’t for the anxiety bubbling in your chest. You lead Astarion to a clearing near the flowing river a bit aways from camp. You had grabbed a large plush blanket with throw pillows and laid them out before you had gotten Astarion. For once you wanted something to go right. For a special moment to be curated and simple. Not during a battle or on accident. Not in an abandoned temple or a psychics tent. But an evening of just you and him. Of twinkling stars and the silence of a night-lit blooming forest. However this is to go, whatever his decision may be, it would be between the two of you in a neutral setting. Somewhere you could lay your hearts open to one another. You sit down on the blanket and pat the spot next to him. Astarion sits next to you, craning his neck up to watch the stars alongside you. You both sit in silence for just a few minutes. Enjoying watching the stars in each others company. You wish this is all it could be. But you knew it had to be discussed.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask, shifting your gaze from the sky to Astarion. He meets your gaze and you see the flash of anxiety come and go from his eyes. You keep your face neutral as best you can.

“In the spirit of honesty, I don’t really know. I didn’t know what to think or what to do.” He replies with a sigh. He throws his arms behind him and leans back into them. He stares down at the ground as if far away in thought.

“As far as I knew mates were only for true vampires. A rarity for them, not many of them able trust one another to ever find their mate. So naturally being a spawn I thought I couldn’t have one. It simply wasn’t something I ever gave much thought to.”

“And now that you have one?” You prod further. You ache desperately to put a reassuring hand to him. To tell and show how much you support him at this moment. But you didn’t want to persuade him one way or another. Especially not guilt him by any means. He takes a long drag of a breath and continues on.

“I should be asking you this.” You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. He steals a look over to see your confused face.

“Is this, all of this, what you want?” He ushers between the both of you. You can’t help the little grin that reaches your face.

“Am I not obvious enough?” You tease. He grunts in response.

“I don’t just mean the ungodly good sex darling. I understand I come with my…. Complications. Complications that have been quite a thorn in your side.” He dances around the word vampire. Almost fearful to bring up something he knew was his largest flaw. What good does a vampire spawn do as a partner? He was your antithesis. The opposite of your life’s mission. Plus he would go on to live unless someone got fidgety with a stake. You, however, only had so much time. He highly doubted you would join in his immortality. You look lost in thought, tongue stuck out in thought.

“You’re not wrong. I hated all vampires. I didn’t discriminate between them, all of them monsters to me. My father had foolishly thought to gamble with one, to generate more wealth than we would ever need with a debt owed to Cazador. I never found out what he owed him, all I know is that it was grand enough for Cazador to personally come and slaughter my whole family. Besides me. He had said I wasn’t worth his efforts. So when I met you I naturally hated you.” Before Astarion could make a snarky comment you continued.

“But then I got to know you. To see you for more than what you are. That just because you are a vampire doesn’t mean you’re my enemy. If anything you have been quite the opposite.” You finish. You can tell a bit of tension eases from Astarions shoulders.

“So where do we go from here? 200 years and I’ve never known what more was. That there was a “more”. Forgive me if I am a bit out of touch.” Astarion replies. You nudge your shoulder with his.

“That’s fine old man, we can take it slow.” You tease. He frowns at your jest before a soft smile breaks across his pale face. The moonlight illuminates him giving him an ethereal glow.

“We. Us. I like the sound of that.” He replies.

“And no more running away when we need to talk! I might still stake you, you know.” You playfully slap his arm. He fakes being wounded giving you a pout.

“I make no promises, little killer.” He grins. It would be hard for him to break the habit. Preferring running and hiding. But he could try, for you. “Now may I suggest we consummate this mating?” He leans over towards you, hands resting on either side of your hips. His face just a breathe away from you. A slight chuckle falls from your lips.

“I believe we already have.” You tease. He gives you an award winning smile as he leans in closer. His lips brushing ever so slightly against yours.

“Couldn’t hurt to once more, or maybe a few more times.” His eyes dance from yours down to your lips and back up to you. You lick your dry lips as you watch him drink you in.

“Only a few?” You whisper your head barely beginning to turn into his. Half lidded eyes drawn to him.

“Maybe more than that.” His voice is barely there, red eyes blown wide with lust.

“I sincerely hope even more than that.” He grins as you say that.

“Now that, my dear, is something I can promise.” He says as he seals his lips over your own. You greet his lips in earnest. The kiss is sweet. Perfect. Enveloping the longing, the caring that flowed between your bond. Astarion walks his hands forward, pushing your body back onto the blanket. You follow his steps as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He hovers over you, losing himself in the kiss. Astarion had had many lovers but kisses with you were like no other. As if fireworks set off inside of him. Sparks of pure adoration going off within him. He nudged his way between your legs and you gladly let him. His leg swings upwards, pushing your other leg farther away. His groin comes in contact with your clothed center. Chest to chest, you groan into the kiss. One of his hands comes to glide down to your waist and grip your hip. The other holding himself up by the forearm. You trace down his neck before slipping your hands to his front. You trace his body slowly till you meet the hem of his shirt. You glide your hands under and place your hands flat against his abdomen. Though he feels always a bit cool you feel nothing but flames. You trace random patterns along his front. He deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth. His grip on his hip massaging the tender flesh there. Your hands go higher, nudging him to remove his shirt. He grins into your kiss as he leans back. He grabs his shirt and all but rips it off his body.

You stare awe-struck at him. The way his body is so beautifully sculpted as if he was a statue in a museum. Chiseled to perfection by the universe's best artist. His curly white hair disheveled, flowing with the slight breeze. His eyes hungry and trained on you, gauging your constant reaction. His hands find the ends of your shirt and he teasingly strokes it upwards in slow motions. You lean up and watch him take your shirt completely off. His hand reaches to your jaw as he leans in for another kiss. All the while you begin to loosen his trousers.

“So needy.” He teases into your lips between kisses. You smile and break the kiss. You lean up to and press your lips near his pointed ear.

“I can’t help that I want my mate.” You whisper to him. He shudders at your words. Mate. Gods the title sounded so good coming from you. He nibbles down your neck in earnest. Leaving love bites and hickeys in his trail. He ruts his hips into yours. His hands go all over. Touching every inch of exposed skin he can access. Kneading and caressing every part of you. Your hands wander his body as if touching it for the first time. Mapping out as if you could forget it. His kisses travel across your collarbone and to your sternum. One of his hands comes up to softly play with your breast. His hand kneading the soft skin. Occasionally his fingers come up to twist your nipple in a delcious rhythm. You grind against him in desperation for more touch. For more of him. Your fingers undo his pants and begin to tug as much as you can in your position. Astarions lips come up to your perked nipple and begin to suck. His eyes trained on yours to gauge your reaction. You throw your head back in ecstasy as a rough moan escapes your mouth. You make no show of covering any sounds, letting Astarion hear how good he makes you feel. His hand plays with your opposite breast as he sucks and bites at your sensitive bud. You writhe, desperation growing in you. The fire he builds inside you is quickly building to an inferno.

“Please Astarion.” You whine. He comes off of you with a wet pop before he stands. He makes quick work of his pants and immediately kneels and sweeps yours off just as fast. You lay bare to one another. Basking in the moonlit glow of each others naked bodies. Astarions eyes drink you in. A soft look on his face, adoration evident.

“You’re beautiful.” He tells you. You give a wide grin before you open your arms and usher him closer. He immediately follows and finds himself between your legs again. Though he brings himself much lower than before. His face resting just above your heat. You watch his actions and you can feel your breath catch. His eyes stare hard into yours as he brings his tongue out and licks. The flat of his tongue going from the bottom to the top of your slit. Your nails dig into the blanket as you arch your back. Astarion devours you like a man starved. Spreading your folds with his fingers to delve deeper. His tongue caresses your insides sending shivers up your spine. You cry out his name like a prayer.

“Ah- A- astarion!” You cry over and over again. It only spurs him on, chasing your ecstasy to get you to your high. His fingers join in his ministrations as he plunges two fingers into your wet opening. He curls ever so slightly as he motions a come hither inside of you. All the while his tongue laps and sucks at your clit. The stimulation is all too much, your whole body buzzing.

“Astarion- ahh- I’m gonna-“ you can barely moan out, your whole body too consumed in rapture.

“Cum my love, show me how good I make you feel.” He purrs against your skin. You reach your climax, cumming on his fingers. He works you through it, slowing his fingers' pace. He looks up at you to see your lust filled face. He leans upwards to catch you in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips. It sends a thrill through you.

“Astarion please- I need you.” You cry, arms grabbing at him senselessly. It’s as if you forgot all sense, Astarion the only thing that mattered. The only thing that exists.

“Oh with pleasure, my mate.” He gives you a devilish grin. You clench at his words. Mate. God you could listen to him call you that a thousand times and not get sick of it. He lines himself up with your entrance, using your slick to lube himself properly. He enters you slowly as you both moan wantonly in union. You wrap your hands around his neck to hold onto something. His arms hold himself up by the back of his forearms on either side of your head. Your bodies touch as he rocks into you. It’s intimate. Something very foreign for Astarion. Everything he had done was quickies. Hard and fast to reach a climax to be finished with. But you. Oh you he wanted to take his time with. To ruin you, completely and wholeheartedly. To mark you as his in every crevice and nook of your body. That his signature would be branded so deeply into your skin no other man would even think to come near you. You are his entirely. His hips speed up in rhythm. Skin slapping onto skin echoing with your shared moans.

“Say it again.” Astarion grunts out. His eyes find yours, begging. You swallow dryly. The bond is so strong in this position, in this eye contact. As if your body thrums with it. You would give him the world and stars if he asked for it at this moment. But you already knew what he wanted.

“Astarion, my mate.” You reply. He groans, biting his lower lip. His hips speed up, becoming sloppy. Your body is wrecked in pleasure.

“Again.” He growls.

“My mate. Mine.” You say once again. At that Astarions fangs plunge into your soft neck. Stars line your vision. You feel out of body. Lost in a sea of utter pleasure. You reach your finish together, Astarion spilling his seed inside of you. The bond ties tightly between you both. Unbreakable. You hug his body close as you come down from your high. He releases from your neck and moves to lay next to you. Your hands intertwine as you look up at the stars together. Both attempting to catch your breath.

“Well, what now darling?” He asks you between puffs of air. He looks over at you. Those crimson eyes full of adoration.

“Well. I guess we save the world.” You reply with a chuckle. He squeezes your hand.

“I think we are going to have a lot of fun together.”

Part 9 here

———-

I really hope you guys enjoyed the series! I will be focusing on one shots and requests from here on out! Also if you got the Twilight reference give me a holla!

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 6

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

In your travels towards a hopeful cure at the Selunite Temple you come across a small village of travelers. With a psychic nearly giving away Astarion's biggest secret you find company elsewhere. Astarion does not approve, to say the least.

Astarion whips the openings of his tent open as he trudges inside. This was not good. Not good at all. He could nearly laugh at himself for believing for one moment he had any power over this bond. That there was even a  possibility of controlling you through it. It felt as if it controlled him more than anything else. He stomps over to his chest and digs through to find the mating book he had found in the last town's library. He flips forward to the section on vampiric mates. He obsessively reads over and over again. There has to be a way to break this incessant bond. To end this crushing weight of it inside his chest. He couldn’t take it. The vulnerability to love and be loved. No one could love a monster like him. Nor should they be forced to. 

You on the other hand are oblivious to Astarions plight. You spend the rest of your time checking in on all your teammates and packing up camp. It would be a few days before getting to the temple. According to the map you “borrowed” from a drunken traveler, there was a town in between where you needed to go. You met with each companion to let them know your plan and direction you were going. The only one not outside was Astarion. You grumble your discontent and make way to his tent. Astarions pointed ears perk up at the all too familiar sound of your boots hitting the ground. He panics, not wanting you to even get a hint with the very obvious book he was reading. Whipping his head back and forth he notices the raunchy romance novel he had snagged from someone at the tavern. He quickly replaces that book's sleeve on top of the cover of the mating book. Thankfully he does so just in time for you to appear at his tent's opening. You push back the flaps and peer inside. He gives you a cheeky smile and waves. 

“Just catching up on some reading, are we?” You ask. Your eyes finally fall onto the cover of the book. A shirtless man embracing a frail woman with his tongue knee deep in her mouth. You make a gag noise as you shrivel your nose in disgust.

“Oh you know, I have to study even on the road.” Astarion jokes. You stick your tongue out at him. 

“Vile.” You fake gag. He quips an eyebrow up at you. 

“You didn’t seem to think so.” His words come out as sweet as honey. It’s too easy to play with you, to tease you. Your whole body turns red and you swear you might just jump out of your skin in embarrassment. You shake your head as if to rid the words from the air. 

“I- well- we are leaving in two minutes blood sucker!” You divert your gaze away from him and practically run over yourself away from him. You mutter something along the way about hating him. He can’t help but chuckle at your embarrassed state. He throws his head into his hands and groans. Yes this really, really, wasn’t good at all. 

-

Besides stopping for one meal and a few bathroom breaks you are still about a days way from the next town. You had been following the path forward as you noticed more and more travelers coming and going. As you all get closer towards town you come upon what seems to be a small village. Hundreds of tents propped up in a large and lush valley. The smells of a market wafts towards your company. Cheer and merriment with the dancing sounds of music can be heard above all else. It is nearly nightfall and you don’t see the harm in checking it out. Though you get more than a few grumbles from Lae’zel and Astarion. You ignore them and lead the way into the heart of the tents. Calling it a small village was just about exactly what it was. Hordes of people all coming and going from tents and impromptu shops. There’s an alley just of multicolored canopies holding food stands. Meat hangs from sturdy clothing lines and fruits overflowing in barrels. The intoxicating smell of roasting pig flows from a large fire nearby. Other sites have signs enticing people to buy jewels or tarot readings. Your stomach grumbles and with a look you can tell everyone is thinking the same. 

“We will spend the night here and round back up in the morning and set off first thing.” you tell the others. Everyone nods wildly, already eyeing different stands to venture off to. Some go in pairs while others wander off on their lonesome. You were just about to do the same before Astarion came to your side. You give him an exasperated face. He only gives a brazen smile in return. 

“And what do you think you’re doing?” you ask, folding your arms in front of you. You lean on one leg and raise an eyebrow. You were hoping to find a nice hot meal and quiet. The latter not happening with Astarion around. 

“Oh come on, you could use the company. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be eating anything here. Unless you’d rather me find some delectable company.'' His toothy grin only emphasizes what he would like to be doing with those canines. A weird pang hits you and you shake your head. 

“I do not need another angry mob, especially because one of my companions ate somebody.” you sigh. His eyes perk up at your words.

“Companions are we?” he stoops at the waist to look you in the eyes with his grin still locked in place. You bristle, tripping over your words. 

“Companions only in travel , I absolutely assure you.” you bite back. He only laughs at your scowl and equally sour words. 

“And here I thought we were mortal enemies. Seems I’ve made progress already.” He laughs. You point a finger into his chest and seethe your next words from between your teeth.

“Dream on blood sucker. Now let’s get going, I want some food.” You retract your hand and walk forward without a glance to see if Astarion is following. He quickly adjusts and follows behind you. He tells himself he doesn’t want to be in your company. If the universe hadn’t given him a chance mate he would of been spending this time either drinking or fucking, or better, both. But there was a gnawing feeling at the thought of you not being near him. Without you in his line of vision how was he to know you were okay? That you hadn’t gotten yourself into some mess? Or worse, courting with some random person in one of these tents. He can’t help the way that thought makes his anger flare. His teeth grind on each other and his hands ball into fists. Stupid mate instincts. Just as he has that thought a drunken patron from one of the bar tents nearly stumbles into you. You are too transfixed looking between meal stalls to notice. Astarion’s hand snakes around your hips and pulls your hip to his. You stumble into his side just as the man falls over on himself next to you. Your eyes follow the man now scrambling on the ground to Astarion’s death glare he gives him. His nails dig into your hip as he squeezes you in close. Your hand comes up to his chest to balance yourself. Astarion’s glare nearly stabs daggers into the man's eyes. The man gets one look at Astarion’s flaming rage evident in his face and body language and he clambers up. He just barely gets an apology out before Astarions voice overpowers his. 

“Watch where you are going imbecile.” Astarions voice is glacier cool and it has the man running as if for his life. You swat at Astarion which breaks the spell of anger that was only climbing inside of him. He looks to you and finds you giggling. 

“Astarion! It really was not that big of a deal! I can handle some drunken fool.”  

“Well someone has to protect our leader.” Astarion jokes.

“I fended you off quite well in our original meeting now didn’t I?” you shake yourself out of Astarions rock solid hold and tug his hand forward. “Come, I’m practically starving.” Astarion shakes as if ridding himself of a clinging sensation of emotion. He hadn’t even thought before grabbing onto you. Of the drunk getting his filth all over you. Something about it riled him up more than he would've ever thought. The bond inside him tugged for attention, begging for Astarion to heed its gift. He swallowed that feeling down and weaved through the stalls alongside you. You finally stop inside a stall and grab a plate of food and ale from a vendor. There’s a large picnic area filled with tables and chairs off to the side with a band just beginning to tune up for a performance. You find a small empty table and sit down to enjoy your food. Astarion sits across from you and props his head on his hand in boredom. He people watches a bit before you cut into his thinking. 

“Do you ever miss it?” you ask in between mouthfuls. His head snaps back to you and gives you a quizzical look. You make a gesture down to your nearly finished food. 

“Oh, uh no. Well, it’s not like I can even remember it truthfully.” he responds. 

“What do you mean, how long has it been since you were, you know, not what you are.” you ask. He nearly laughs at the hoops you jump through to avoid the word vampire.

“Darling it's been nearly two centuries since I’ve been turned.” he replies. Ale nearly flies from your mouth in surprise. You gulp down what you can and cough before you wipe your mouth. 

“You’re over two hundred years old?” you asked incredulously. 

“I know, I look barely a day over 30.” he smiles, swiping nonexistent lint from his shoulders, all bravado. 

“More like I can’t believe I kissed such a geriatric man.” you tease. Astarion flares at your words.

“G- Geriatric! Geriatric! I assure you I don’t fuck like a-” your laugh cuts him off. 

“You’re so easy to get riled up!” you belly laugh before you finish your ale. He mumbles some insult or another as he pouts. You stand from your seat and cock your head at Astarion. “Are you going to continue to follow me or are you going to sit and pout about being old?” you ask. He pushes off the table and stands to follow you. You get lost back into the crowd and look through the different merchants. As you eye through weaponry and treasures you walk past a tall tabaxi woman. She stands in front of her tent with a sign labeled “Psychic Readings - 10 pence”. She's dressed in embellished azure robes with several silver necklaces looped around her neck. She waves at the both of you. 

“My my, the oracle has much to say about your future.” she entices. Your eyebrow perks up but Astarion only tries to steer you away with a very obvious annoyed face. 

“Tricksters, the lot of them.” he explains. 

“Tricky is what you have swimming around in that brain of yours.” she responds nonchalantly as she turns into her tent. You give Astarion a stunned look and make to follow her. 

“There’s no way a trickster knows that! Come on, let’s just see.” you pull Astarion along with you. Though he doesn’t know how she could know about the tadpoles he still holds the thought of her being nothing but a con man. Not that he doesn’t appreciate the hustle, just that it won’t work on someone who once conned just as much. Astarion plops into a plush chair next to you. The tabaxi woman sits on the other side of the table with a cloudy orb sitting between you all. The tent is filled with a large prayer stand to a goddess neither of you are familiar with. Idols and offerings line the counters and tables around the circle of candles set up in the goddesses name. Golden candelabras line any other open space with oriental rugs covering the inside completely. The psychic places her hand upon the orb and swirls her palms around it till murky clouds appear from within. 

“Now, both of you place your palms upon the crystal ball. The oracle will grace me with a vision.” she explains. You immediately clip in.

“Can she tell us about the tadpoles?” you ask feverishly. The tabaxi woman only shakes her head. 

“I do not control the subject of the vision, I am only a voice for the beyond.” she explains. Astarion throws up his hands in irritation with a scowl on his lips. 

“Then what good is this? A waste of time!” he frowns. He crosses his arms in front of him, ready to leave. You pat his thigh to make him look at you  and try to give a reassuring smile.

“It’s worth a shot, right? Besides, what else can it tell us besides you being older than 200?” you joke. His irritation from the woman gets redirected at you. 

“I should've never told you that! Fine, we can do the weird mystical orb then.” He looks away from you and throws his hand onto the ball impatiently. You place your hand partially on top of his and look to the psychic for a sign. The slits of her eyes get replaced with bright white, taking over her entire eyes. Her paws face upwards on the table and you notice the scripture tattooed onto them begins to hum in equally bright light. The candelabras flames shake as a wind rushes into the tent and wraps around you all. You can feel in your bones the power sweeping over the tabaxi before she even speaks. 

“What is ancient can not be broken. What is meant, will be. Love is slow but it is strong. What begins as hate will blossom to the heart. One for another. A solution and a curse.” her voice is otherworldly, coming from somewhere far and primitive. A cold shiver wracks your body and your voice shakes.

“What- what does that mean?” you can barely get out. Her white orbs look over to you. 

“Feelings can be denied but I see you, and he will too.” she responds before the wind dies from inside the tent. The candles go back to their full strength and her eyes return to the green cat-like that they were previous. Your whole body stills as your mind goes over and over what she says. Maybe, sure you thought Astarion was physically attractive. That much is obvious to anyone with a brain. And maybe you enjoyed the banter you two had. And yeah maybe you felt a terror grip you seeing his injuries the other day. And maybe, just maybe, there was a small part of you that felt ravished by his touch. By the electricity and pure passion that welled deep in your body at his bite. And how you wanted it again. You look over to Astarion to check his reaction and immediately wish you hadn’t. His face is of revulsion. His nose is scrunched with his eyebrows furrowed. He looks over at you and you can barely breathe. He looks nothing short of nauseated. You slam your hands down as you break from your seat. The ornate chair goes flying behind you at your actions. Your face is hot with shame and you can feel wet tears welling up in your eyes. You throw the 10 pence down on the table and make haste in getting far far away from the psychic and Astarion. You can’t believe that for even a second he would have another reaction. You felt stupid, and a little heart broken if not also confused at your foreign feelings. 

On the other hand Astarion had heard the woman's words and felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped onto him. Here he was trying to get information on the tadpoles and the bloody woman had just given away his biggest secret to the exact person he didn’t want to hear it. Astarion has to hold back a snarl at the woman. His anger and disgust with the woman coming to him fast. He holds a breath he knows he doesn’t need and finally faces your stare. You look like a fawn caught by a wolf. Your whole body shivers and your eyes are blown wide. You bite your lip and look as if you are about to leap from your seat if he were to make a move. He had never seen you so.. Scared. He is about to say something, about how ridiculous this all was and how this woman must be a lunatic before you leap up and out of the tent. Astarion barely has time to turn his head before you're out the door and rounding a corner. He doesn’t bother wasting the time to lash out at the woman and tries to follow after you. But he immediately loses you. His heart clamps down around itself and a shot of fear races up his spine. Where in the hells were you? Where was his mate?

-

Sloshing amber liquid dribbles down your chin as you finish another round of ambrosia. You had run as fast as your feet could carry you until you were sure Astarion would not be able to follow you. You needed to be anywhere else. Your mind needed to be anywhere else. You found a liquor stall and helped yourself to a spot. The orc bartender drying a glass came to you and asked what he could do for you. 

“What do you have for someone needing to forget someone?” you ask solemnly. The orc had only given a slight chuckle before reaching deep into a locked chest behind the counter. He brings a glass and the large bottle to you. 

“Ambrosia. ‘Pose to be blessed with a crave beyond the bottle. You’ll have someone else to forget with that.” he offers to you with a wink. You had greedily poured yourself a glass and now found yourself nearly finishing the bottle. Your vision blurs and doubles. The liquor warms your being and turns your brain to mush. Your limbs feel loose and free and all you can do is smile and laugh at nothing. You’ve never felt so good. So free. Like you could dance the night away. Just as you finish off the bottle and pay the kind orc you hear the strumming of a band. Your ears perk up at the sound and you follow it. You want nothing more than to dance. To forget that stupid handsome vampire and dance with someone half as pretty and forget. As if your thoughts bring truth the picnic area had now been turned into a dance floor. Carpets and furs are thrown haphazardly on the ground creating a space for dancing. The speed of the music is hot and fast. People of all kinds dance and grind against each other as magical lights in varied colors twinkle on strings above you. It creates a vision of neon lights strobing over the swaying bodies. You rush to meet them and enter into this haven. You make your way onto the floor and lose any inhibition you still had left. Your hips twirl as you run your hands over your body and hair. Gods you’ve never felt so so very good. You sway and dance in time to the music. A man's body comes pressed to the back of yours. Your hands fly up and back to grab onto his neck and shoulder. You turn your face to look over at him. A dark haired elf smiles down at you with twinkling green eyes. Handsome, not as much as Astarion, but he would do. You give a seductive smile and grind against him. His hands fly down to grip your hips as he moves with you. Your head finds a home into the nape of his neck as you give a bold kiss to his collarbone. He gives you a smile in return and nestles his head next to yours. Just as your lips were about to seal over one anothers a clawed hand rips him away from you. You’re still too drunk on ambrosia to catch the action and you nearly fall over from the loss of balance. Astarion grabs your wrists and catches you to right yourself. He stands between you and the elf. 

“What the hells? What do you think you’re doing?” the man shouts at Astarion. Normally Astarion feels ice cold but the caged inferno of rage inside of him makes his skin nearly hot. Astarion bares his teeth and nearly rips the man apart. Astarion feels as if he could tear through the center of the earth over and over again. He would take on a thousand men before allowing one to touch you so eagerly. 

“Taking what is mine.” Astarion growls before he turns and hoists you up and over his shoulder. You yelp in surprise and weakly attempt to punch on Astarion’s back to make him put you down. Astarion pays it no mind and trudges away from the dance floor and towards where his tent is on the outskirts of the gathering lies in waiting.

“The hells do you think you are doing? I was quite enjoying my company!” you argue, your words slurring. Astarion lets out a deep snarl at your words.

“Not anymore.” he curtly replies. 

“What is it to you? It’s not like you enjoy my company so I had to make my own!” you counter with a huff. Astarion nearly stops but continues on.

“What in the world gave you that impression?” he asks. 

“I saw how you looked at me in the psychic’s tent! You look at me with disgust!” you huff. You hadn’t noticed you had made it back to Astarion’s tent before he drops you on his abundant pillows. Your back hits your plush surroundings as your limbs try to cooperate to sit you up even a bit. Astarion drops to his knees in front of you with each leg on the sides of yours. His hands hold him in place on either side of your head as you find yourself lost in his crimson eyes.

“And how am I looking at you now?” he whispers. His words cause a stir in your abdomen and your body whines to touch his. His pupils are blown wide as his tongue wipes over his sharp teeth.

“Hungry.” you barely reply, clenching your aching thighs together.

“Starved.”

part five here

part seven here

comment below and ill reply when the next one is up :)

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 9

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

Astarion, unable to deal with the consequences of the mating, flees. You however learn a great deal with the help of a certain book.

The echoes of your combined panting pound against the granite walls of the ancient temple. Your heart rate still sky high as you try to remember how to breathe. Once finished, Astarion had rolled over to lay next to you. Both of you without a proper word to say after that. You felt like you had a million thoughts racing through your head. So many feelings and sayings you wanted to burst out of you. But all that came was a jumbled mess in your head that fell flat on your tongue. Sex had never been like that before. Sure you have had good lovers, talented ones even. But this. This was different. It stirred something else in you. A closeness that you felt in your bones the moment his teeth sank into your flesh. That this vampire, this agonizingly cocky, arrogant, self serving vampire, was someone you now… cherished. A bloom of affection took root in your stomach and was furrowing out into every section of you. You turn your head to look over at him. His eyes closed as if in thought.

Astarions mind races just as fast, but for entirely different reasons. His whole body is screaming to run. Fight or flight shocking his system into overdrive. To leave this, whatever this is, hard and fast. This was the beginning of his doom. Of the downfall in his tether free, master free, lifestyle. For all his years of honing his skills in manipulation, Astarion finds himself being the one wrapped around your finger. His body throbs with the reminder of what he had sealed with his actions. The words mate mate mate repeating over and over again somewhere deep in his mind. The words used to describe mating bonds from passing vampires or that book compared little to the experience of it. It was something stronger than even the pull Cazador has. Something built into his DNA. Every fiber, every muscle wired now to be attuned to you. But how could he do that to you? He may be callous, Gods know he isn’t one for caring, but he found himself doing so with you. Of caring what this meant for you. To you. That without your choice, without your consent, you had unknowingly stuck yourself to someone like him. You’re a vampire hunter for Gods sake! You would be degrading yourself for being with him. It was below you, even if you couldn’t see it for yourself. Astarion prays to whatever God would even listen to him that you would not feel the bond's presence. That the pull would bounce off of you. That you both could go back to insulting one another with maybe another romp or two. But when Astarion opens his eyes he finds you already looking at him.

“That was..” you trail off. Astarion pleads your next words won’t be kind. That you’ll break his heart into two and say something horrible. That you’ll demand to never do it again. So in his wallows he could know you would move on. Find someone worthy of you. Someone not to live for eternity as a manipulator, a puppet in a grand plan that would surely cast him aside. At least broken, he could still watch out for you. Could make sure your every need met, that his mate would be safe. Safe and far away. Far away from him. Far away from Cazador.

“Amazing. Not bad, blood sucker.” Your eyes twinkle as you finish your sentence. For the jest you put in your last sentence he can see the meaning behind it. The affection behind your eyes. You attempt to wrap your hand in his. Fingers interlocking in a warm embrace. No, no. No, he had to stop this at once. He couldn’t do this to you. He puts on his mask, that face that looks as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He wringes his hand out of your grasp and hoists himself up. With his scarred back to your questioning face he steadies himself. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if to not be present for what is to come out of his mouth. The poison he knew you would one day come to appreciate. Even if his mind screamed to stop.

“It was alright but I will take the flattery, now if you’ll excuse me. I’m off to find a comfortable bed.” He throws a hand out as if to shoo away the conversation. He takes a steadying breath and lurks over to his discarded clothes. He doesn’t dare look up to see your face. He can feel the hot stare on the back of his head already. He knows if he looks back at you; if he sees the way your face morphs into confusion and sadness, it will surely break the facade. That he will run back to you and take back his actions. But he trudges on, getting dressed faster than he believes he ever had before. Within a wink he’s already stranded you there naked on the table. You look around, as if your environment would give you any clue. What had just happened? One second your flirting, the next fucking, then he’s just.. gone? Sure maybe he wasn’t a cuddle type. You could deal with that. But he felt so cold. Unfeeling, as if this was a decent enough fling and he had had his fill. Was that all it was? Putting action to words spoken this entire adventure? A passing bit of fun? Now done, he could discard you? You scramble to get your clothing back on. You hurry out of the temple hoping to catch him before he’s gone. But it is as if he rode the wind and disappeared.

-

You hoped and prayed he would be back at camp once you made your way back. Though unfortunately, all companions were accounted for minus one vampire. Karlach had been the last into camp so you went to her to see if she may have seen him out and about.

“Karlach! Hey! You hadn’t seen Astarion by chance have you?” You run over to her, panting as you bend over to catch your breath.

“Woah woah woah. Breathe soldier. I think I saw him at one of the taverns in town. What’s going on?” She asks. Her strong arms crossed over her chest as she looks you over. Since meeting you she’s had a protectiveness about her when it came to you. Only an idiot couldn’t see how Astarion and you flirted back and forth. From the look on your face, something was up. And it was not good.

“Which one?” You ask impatiently. She shakes her head and leads you over to her tent.

“First you’re going to tell me what’s going on.” She returns. You make yourself comfortable on a plush pillow as she sits cross legged in front of you. Once you’re sat you fall into your hands. Forehead resting on your open palms.

“I don’t know! I wish I could explain it!” You start. You grasp at your hair, searching your mind for what even had just happened. You tell her everything that has transpired. Her face changes from excitement to anger by the end of your tale.

“I knew it! He couldn’t be trusted! Once I get my hands on him-“ Karlach starts. You throw up your hands and shake them wildly in front of you to stop her sentence. Something in you screams to protect Astarion. You knew how Karlach could rage, he didn’t deserve that. At least, not until you spoke to him.

“Karlach no! I just- I just want to talk to him.” Your voice falters. You feel deflated, listless. If you could just talk to him you could figure this out. Right? Karlach studies you. The way you wrung your hands back and forth anxiously. How your eyes look big and lost, nearly wet with tears. Gods you must be falling for the vampire. She groans and picks herself off the floor.

“Fine, fine. Since you look like a love sick puppy i'll tell you. But one misstep and it’s his fangs next time I see him!” She warns, wagging her finger in your face. You give your best smile albeit it still looks drained. She tells you the tavern she had seen him last. You give her an air hug as a thank you and scamper out of the camp. Karlach watches as you race off towards the town center.

-

As good a pickpocket Astarion is, he didn’t quite manage to steal enough to buy a decent enough wine. But this vinegar concoction would have to do for the evening. He sighs to himself, watching as he swirls the red liquid absentmindedly in his glass. His head rests on his hand he has propped up on the bar counter. The bar top is sticky with sloshed beers, people chatting and cheersing away around him. The mood is cheerful, gleeful even; with a band of barbs playing loudly in the corner. Elves and tieflings alike dancing away the night. Bartenders move swiftly, collecting orders from the numerous parched dancers and bar regulars. Astarion had paid enough upfront for the bar maid to leave the whole bottle with a sultry wink. Normally he would have chased it down. Gotten free wine and romp out of one exchange. But her beauty, her want of him, was nothing if not pale to him. His mind is entirely wrapped in thoughts of you. His stomach ached against the feverish bond pounding away inside of him. It gnawed at him. Begging for him to find you, check on his mate, to inhale your scent and never let go. It pushed into his throat and he swallowed around the lump of misery. Just as he put the glass to his lips once more he caught a familiar scent. The wafting of that familiar lavender, the bounding pulse that was so distinctly you. His ears perked up and he whips his head to look around. You were bounding towards the tavern, he could tell. His heart sang, brimming with life at the thought of you close. He shuts down the feeling as quick as it comes as he scampers to find a way out of this. He was not ready for this conversation. He needed one night to steel himself in the misery he needed to cause. The bar maiden notices Astarions nervous glances around and walks over to him.

“Need something handsome?” She does her best to push her breasts close together as she leans over the bar. She gives an award winning smile, looking Astarion up and down. Your scent grows stronger in Astarions nostrils.

“You don’t happen to have somewhere private by chance? I’ve got an angry lover on my tail, and I have a feeling she’s going to be here quite soon.” Astarion explains to the bar maiden with a cheeky smile. She gives him another look up and down. She muses this must be a very bad pick up line and wiggles a come hither at him. Astarion follows the woman towards the back, desperate to be hidden. Just as he is out of sight, you barge into the tavern. You look the place over at lightning speed. Nothing is a miss, a quite normal tavern. Joyful dancing to the band playing for the night. People in different small crowds socializing with one another. There is only one seat open at the busy bar with a forgotten glass of wine. Something inside you whines that he must be here. You damn near feel like you can smell him. I must be going crazy, you think. You look for him once more over the crowd before falling into the empty seat. A tiefling man sits to your left nursing a large stein of ale. It’s quite obvious from the numerous empty glasses surrounding him that he had been here for some time. You decide to try your luck and ask if he had seen Astarion.

“You didn’t happen to see an elvish man with white hair here recently? Tall, slender, reddish eyes?” You describe to him. He brings a finger to his chin to ponder. He sways slightly back and forth on the stool as he scrunches his nose in thought. You just about thank him for wasting your time before his eyes widen.

“Ah yes yes! He was- he was uh. Yeah he was just here.” He replies, gesturing to your seat.

“Where did he go? Did he happen to say?” You ask, hope growing in your heart.

“He followed the bar lady- went behind. Back room.” He pieces together, belching between each word. You give him a quick thanks before you hop off the stool. Your heart in your throat, you round the bar. The other bartenders are too busy with patrons to notice you diving back towards the employee only section. The back hallway only hosts tankards of ale, barrels, and cleaning supplies. You nearly given up before you notice a wooden door in the darkened corner of the hallway.

-

Astarion follows the elf bar maiden to a back hallway. There’s only one other room beyond the supplies littered about. Low candle light flickering large shadows across the hall. She takes his hand in hers and leads him to the door. He thinks nothing of it as your scent hits him harder, announcing your arrival. Anything to scurry away would be a luxury right now. She thrusts Astarion into the closet before shutting the door behind her. The room is small, filled with shelves of food supplies, more ale and wine bottles, and other miscellaneous items. It’s quite dark, a few old candles nearing their end in random spots. A leak from the roof trickles rhythmically at the far corner. Before Astarion can take a breath of relief the woman pounces on him. Her hands twine around his neck as she pushes him into a kiss. Astarions hands flare up in shock, eyes wide as if stuck in place. She takes his moment of shock to thrust her tongue into his mouth, moaning into his lips. Her hands twirl into his feather soft hair. This was nothing like his kisses with you. Those sparked lightning in his body, brimming his undead body to life. This was just skin to skin, pale in comparison. Astarion grabs her hips, hoping to politely decline with a nudge. Though before he can make space between their bodies another person comes tumbling into the closet. Astarion curses the Gods above that he chose to drink his sorrows away with piss-drunk patrons and horny bartenders. But with a glance over the woman’s shoulders his eyes fall on yours. Your foot propelling you forward, stuck in motion. Your hand is still gripping the doorknob as gasps of exertion leave your lips. Your eyes say it all. Blown wide in shock before cementing into pure pain. Even in the dim light Astarion can make out the way hurt curls in on your face. A crack whips up the bond. He can feel his breath leave him at the nauseating feeling. The bartender turns from her kiss with Astarion to investigate who came into the room. She gives an annoyed look over her shoulder, nose curling in disgust.

“Um employees only. Can’t you read? Kinda busy right now.” She scoffs. Just barely can Astarion hear the hiccup you let out. A fat wet tear rolling down your soft cheek before you turn and walk away. Astarions body moves of its own accord. He shoves the woman away from him as he makes haste to the door. He barely catches your disappearing scent as he walks back out on the crowded bar floor.

-

Cold night air slaps harsh against your skin as you dash from the tavern. Tears roll freely down your cheeks as you attempt to catch your breath between cries. Your heart pumps in your chest as you run down alleyways and streets. It feels as if your mind is sputtering, engine dying and failing to compute. So that’s what he had meant about finding a comfortable bed? Someone else’s? Jealousy and rage thunder in your veins, turning your body to pure ice. You had been so stupid! So naive! Here you were, a strong and capable vampire hunter, being distracted for games by a spawn! Tears dry in your eyes as the fury takes hold of you. That delicate piece of you that held Astarion begins to crumble into a ball in your heart. The tether to him you had started to feel in the temple engulfed in flames. Your feet move quickly, taking you right into camp and into Astarions tent. You wanted to rage. To put your hands to use and shred everything in sight. To destroy and put fire to anything he cared about. How dare he use you! How dare he toy with you! Your head whips back and forth in attempts to find something to bring your vengeance upon. You eye the large ornate trunk Astarion keeps his personal belongings in. You kneel before it before ripping the top open. Inside lies a scattering of things. Clothing, mirrors, art pieces and a few books. You dig around a bit before your eyes land on that gaudy romance book he had been insistently reading. Any moment he seems to be on his own his nose is buried in that book. Several times you had stolen glances his way or happened to peer in his tent only to find him reading and rereading that very book. What good is a romance book to someone playing the games he does! It’s ludicrous! It nearly makes you laugh in anger at the thought of him reading such a loving novel when he himself had shattered your heart. You tear the book from the chest just as you hear hurried footsteps coming towards camp. Most everyone had gone to bed already so you assumed it’s Astarion. You exit his tent and plunge into your own. You zip the entrance tight, making a very obvious do not disturb before you scuttle back onto your sleeping pad. A few minutes later you hear Astarions feet coming towards your tent. The scent of bergamot and rosemary wafting in. The scent encompasses your senses, relaxing you. You almost let the feeling carry you, to snuggle into the familiar scent. Before that rage takes hold once more. You turn from the tent entrance and lie on your side. You float in and out of sleep as you dream of Astarion.

Astarion putters before your tent entrance, half tempted to rip it open. His mind pleads to do just that. To try him damnedest to plead his case. To show it was all a misunderstanding and should be shoved to the past. But he could see how it looked. He had taken you, left coldly and then is found kissing another woman. It looked bad. It was royally fucked. One part of his brain reminds him that he should be happy. That this is what he wanted. Distance between you so you could flourish without the weight of him holding you down. But the ache of your misery and hatred stabbed Astarion sharper than any blade. He felt like his throat couldn’t open all the way. His muscles aches, heart crying out. How on earth did any vampire get anything done with the waves of emotions the bond made one feel? He finally decides, against his heart's judgment, to go to his own tent.

-

Breakfast was tense. More than tense, cut throat. Astarion did his best to stay clear of you, avoiding you every moment he could. Seemingly having something to do when you came near. A black cloud followed you, rage nearly palpable near you. Everyone stepped on their toes around the two of you, no one bringing up the obvious. Karlach attempted to talk to you, to try to soothe you. But you wanted none of it. As much as you appreciated your friends' attempts you wanted to sit in your anger. To let your body go through the emotions it needed to feel. You had hidden the book you stole from Astarion in a secluded spot near camp. In case he noticed it missing and decided to ransack your tent. You were childishly hoping he would notice it missing and confront you. Just so he would acknowledge you. Gods you just wanted to argue. To yell and fight and curse and then make up. You wanted it so badly you could nearly picture it, a daydream rewinding in the back of your mind. If Astarion felt the same he certainly didn’t act like it. He ignored you as best as he could. Once or twice you tried to confront him yourself. Foolishly thinking to be the bigger person. Even if the bigger person punched him right in his jaw. But alas, he swerved away from you like the plague.

Your first attempt was at camp after trying to settle your mind and eat something. But the moment you went where he had just been in the forest he was already gone. You then tried again when everyone had dispersed into town. You had all decided to stay one more night in the city, to prepare for your trip to the next destination. You tracked him through the city streets. You followed unnoticed behind him, watching him turn and go behind a shop. Just as you round the corner, words ready at your tongue, he was nowhere to be seen. You tried to find him again but it’s as if he had disappeared from the city. Fed up, you let the sorrow take root once more as you tucked tail and went back to camp.

-

Astarions chest puffs with anxiety as he lays flat against the building wall. Squeezing his eyes shut in silent prayer. He had smelled your scent the moment you started to follow him into town. He had tried to ignore it at first. Hoping that you would give up once you noticed he wasn’t paying you any mind. Then he tried to shake you, turning down streets quickly with no real rhyme or reason. But still your pulse and scent felt as if it bites at his heels. Finally he decided to dive behind a shop and hide behind an alleyway wall. Thankfully you had given up the search as you made your way behind the shop as well. He sighed in relief as he slumped to the ground. His heart ached, throbbing in pain. This couldn’t keep going on. But he didn’t really know what else to do but return to his old habits. Hide.

-

Eyes wet with tears, you made your way to the secluded spot you had found near camp. Nestled in between thick trees and a flowing stream was a short jagged rock formation. The rocks sat on one another creating a craggily diamond head. A perfect spot to get away, and to hide someone’s book. You rest against the rocks as you watch the steam go by lazily. Fat tears plop onto the group beside you. You tried to wrap your mind around what has happened. What do you even do? You think it’s best to just forget it. Forget any of it happened and move on as if it never occurred. But at the thought your stomach lurches. Pain sharp as ice cinches your heart. To forget that night? To forget Astarion? Who were you kidding. The vampire had come and twirled himself into your heart strings. So tangled you don’t recognize who is who. Your relationship or even your feelings, for another never felt so strong before. As if the world’s axis tipped at the point of where Astarion stood. Your center of gravity in a reality you found completely upside down. A year ago you would have been hunting his kind down. Forcing them to out the man who had butchered your family and left you to witness it all. You too weak to even be dealt with. But now you would strangle who would do the same to Astarion. Yes he had his flaws, giant glaring flaws. But there was someone full of grief and loneliness under the facade. Of someone who had bared torment from your tormentor.

You tilt your head back and close your eyes. The rocks cool on the back of your head. You take a deep breath and sigh, tears finally leaving you. You reach behind you to grab hold of Astarions book you hid in between the rocks. The raunchy book cover greeting you. You shouldn’t have taken it. It was childish, done in anger. You should just walk back to camp, toss it in his tent, and leave well enough alone. But as you grab the book in both hands you notice the cover slip. The hardcover underneath is worn with old leather. You slide the rest of the cover off. The title reads “Mates in Five Different Species: Fate Driven Partnership”. Something sparks in your mind. A sense of deja vu. Like a long forgotten memory scratching at the precipice of your brain. You open the book and start to flip through. You find a certain page dog-eared, obviously reread from the worn feeling of the pages. It’s the beginning of a chapter titled “Vampiric Mates”. As you read the words it hits you. A sudden all powerful wave that would have surely swept you off your feet. Your skin tingles as goosebumps ride along your extremities. Your mouth is dry as your throat constricts. You can only think of one thing. Mates.

Part 8 here

Part 10 here

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 7

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

Your party moves from the large campsite into the town on your path to the Selunite Temples. Astarion and you search for a cure and find a tether between your minds that begs for more interesting games to be played between you two.

Breathes mingle in the hot air as tension wraps around Astarion and you, thick as rope. You could practically drink in the arousal surrounding the two of you. It coils and snaps in the air as if beckoning the both of you to take it further, to finish what was left undone back in that tavern room. A shaking hand snakes up and wraps around Astarions neck, curling into his soft silver hair. You pull him impossibly closer as your lips just barely brush over one anothers. His red eyes never leave yours as he watches you absolutely enchanted. It's as if the earth is swallowing him whole and his only salvation is to fall into you. Tadpoles or masters be damned, you would be his destruction. The very fibers of his being rewritten to etch your name for forever more. You lean in closer, nose brushing the side of his own. You hold your breath, daring him to take the next step. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire. A flame broiling in your loins and licking its fire to each of your limbs. All you can think, all you can see, all you can feel is Astarion. Your thoughts are nothing if not primitive. Ever since you had drunk that elixir your only thoughts seemed wrapped in Astarion. Missing and aching for his presence the moment you two were apart. You would never admit to how desperate you are. How absolutely needy for him you are. Your other hand reaches up and clicks apart the buttons shielding Astarion’s naked flesh from your own. Your hand flows from his collarbone down, slipping down to his abdomen. He lets out a shuttered breath at your touch.

“Astarion.” You whisper into his lips. He lets out a groan and finally makes contact with your kiss. Your lips mold over one another as if made to perfectly slot over one each others. His arms roll under your body. He pushes his palms up to press your frame to his while his other hand cradles your head. You moan into the kiss as the flame in you grows hotter and hotter. He takes it as an invitation and dives into your mouth. His tongue intertwines with yours in a passionate dance. Though it only lasts for a moment before he whips his head back and away from you. You blink in surprise, already grabbing for him to return to you. You swear you won’t breathe if he stops touching you. You give out a needy whine as you paw at him. He ignores it and brings his fingers up to his lips as if to study them.

“The hells were you drinking before I found you?” He asks, clearly irritated. You rub your thighs together in need of friction and grab at his shoulders. He doesn’t budge at all and awaits your answer. You huff and cry.

“I don’t know! Some ambrosia or something an orc bartender had given me! Why does it matter? Keep kissing me!” You launch yourself up and towards him. He takes you by the upper arms to hold you still.

“Ambrosia?! Do you have any idea what that is?” His irritation only skyrocketing. You just shrug your shoulders, feeling sheepish that you hadn’t even thought to question it. You had wanted to forget, whatever concoction got you there would do.

“Gods (y/n)! That- It’s a lust potion! No wonder you’re throwing yourself all over me.” The hurt buried deep in the elf’s feelings could be heard in his last words. You struggled to find the right words to say to him. You knew deep down that this started way before you put your lips to that honeyed concoction. Hells, even before the night you shared a room. The moment your eyes had met his you felt as if there was some force driving you towards him. You kept lying to yourself that it was for the fact he knew your greatest enemy. That you had finally found that stepping stone to reach your goals. But under all the hurt you had been witness to and the hate of vampires you had grown to wield as a weapon, you found yourself enjoying his company. Enjoying him. The way you became comfortable around him nearly instantaneously. How you could banter with eachother as if you were old friends. That even though it was an enormously big oversight to trust him, you gave it willingly. But to say all that, to let your guard down, especially to someone that was vampire made, made your throat clam up. As if the words got lodged in your throat and you would choke before you could allow yourself to be vulnerable. Astarion watches the anguish and confusion morph on your face and he lets the embers of his rage die down. It wasn’t your fault for this. As much as he wanted to take you here and now, to complete this bond even if you had no idea of it, he wanted it done when you are of clear mind and body. He watches as a tear wells up in the corner of your eye and cascade down your cheek. He lifts a finger to wipe it from your face.

“Come to me when you are sober. When you make a choice and decide to cross that bridge.” He whispers into your skin as he gives a gentle kiss to your forehead. He braces himself against his knees and pushes off to stand. He turns and begins to make his way out of the tent. You latch onto his wrist without a thought.

“Wait! Where are you going?” You ask, frightful to have him leave your side. He gives a chuckle.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I was starving. Off to find dinner.” He explains. You tighten your grip on him.

“Who’s to say dinner isn’t right here?” You grin, lighting the mood. He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“As much as I love to hear you ask and beg for me, I won’t take when you are so clearly… inebriated.” He chooses his words carefully. You can’t help the groan of frustration. This is the time this ass of a vampire decides to be gentlemanly?

“I wish- I wish there was a way you could know what I’m saying is truthful. That this is me and not some elixir.” You grit your teeth. You slam your palm to your head in frustration and it’s then you feel it. A swimming in your mind. A pulsing ache right behind your eyes. Just as you feel it the bond of thought between you and Astarion through your tadpoles opens like a floodgate. Your want of his company, the desire for his bite and the truth in it goes from your mind to his. It flashes in Astarions mind like fireworks. Startled, you look up to Astarion for confirmation that that had truly just happened. He looks just as confused as you are. He goes to kneel next to you.

“Do it again!” He asks feverishly. You shake your head in confusion and lift your hands.

“I- I- I don’t know how I did that!” You stammer. His hands grab yours as if to cement yourself to him, to open up to him once more.

“Come on do whatever the hells you did that time.” He insists. You scowl at him.

“I told you I don’t bloody know what I did! I had slapped my forehead and then- poof!” You try to explain. Without even a second passing Astarion taps harshly on your forehead.

“Alright now do it!” He urges. You bite your teeth at him, rubbing your forehead at the red mark he created.

“I said I don’t-“ you begin but the rest of your words travel from your mind to his. Don’t know you damned idiot!

You learn to talk into my mind and it’s to insult me. Fitting. Astarion can’t help the grin plastered on his face as he responds back into your mind. You lightly punch his shoulder and laugh. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Well you went to all this trouble to beg me to bite you, may I?” He asks, his teeth already poses to strike.

“I did not beg!” You turn your head in offering to him. He only chuckles at your antics before his lips find your neck. His hand comes up to caress the side of your face. He gives a soft kiss into the nape of your neck. His tongue licks flat on your skin sending tingles up your spine. At your sharp intake of breath he strikes. His teeth burrow deep into you as he suckles on your blood. Just as before, you feel sharp ice flood your system. Shock fills your body and your nails dig into the pillows beneath you. Soon enough the icy feeling leaves your body and warmth and comfort takes its place. His body weighs onto yours and pushes you back into the pillows. His other arm wraps around your middle and pulls your body close. Your head swims and stars twinkle in your vision. You fall into his embrace and find only comfort and belonging.

-

The next morning you wake with a dull ache taking your body captive. You can feel a pulsing headache nothing to do with the tadpole and everything to do with drinking far too much the day before. Thankfully your memory is intact and you can't help but feel a bit of shame at how strongly you had come onto Astarion. But as they say, drunk actions are sober thoughts. You turn in your cocoon of pillows to see Astarion as he faces away from you. He is peacefully meditating, breathing slow and relaxed. You admire him in how vulnerable he looks. How soft he looks relaxed in the early morning sun flittering through the tent. Your eyes turn onto the scars lining his back. Without thinking you reach a hand out to trace the scaring circulating his back. On instinct Astarion flinches and draws away. You shoot your hand away and tumble out apologizes to him.

“Sorry! I just, well I was curious about your scars.” You try to remedy. Astarion wipes the deep mediation from his eyes. He turns to face you as he stretches his tired limbs.

“It’s a gift from my old master Cazador. A poem he carved into my skin in one night, with lots of revisions.” You silently ask for permission and after a moment he nods slightly. You gently take your hand and trace once again around the marks. Anger flames at the thought Cazador abusing and harming Astarion. He slaughters your family, abuses his spawns, sketches into their backs, he deserves more than death.

“I can’t wait to see what you give to him in return.” You can’t hide the venom in your words. Astarion chuckles and turns over towards you.

“You wouldn’t try to stop me?” He asks. You give him a confused look.

“I’d encourage it.” You reply.

“And to think, I thought you were the hero type.” You groan and roll your eyes.

“Not in that instance. Not if it’s harm to someone I care about.” His eyes perk up.

“Care? I think that elixir must still be in your system.” He may come off as joking but you get the sense that that is what he truly believes. You lift yourself up enough to rest your head on your hand.

“No, but I would love to show you all the ideas it gave me.” You give a devilish grin. Before Astarion can give some quick witted response you send images through the mind bond. You show him the thoughts that ran ragged through your mind last night. Of his hands tangled in your hair and pulling your head back for him to ravage your neck. Or of his skilled tongue following a path down your navel and into the dip of your hips. His hands squeezing and kneading your plush thighs. Images of bite marks and love bites trailing up your thigh and towards your most needy spot. The image of you bent across the wooden table in his tent with him filing you to the brim is the last image you get across before Astarion growls.

“You, my love, are playing a dangerous game.” His voice is hot with need, barely civil as his words come out nearly feral.

“Well it is my favorite game to play.” You smirk with a wink. Before you can pounce on one another there’s a loud crunch of boots outside the tent.

“Oi! Come on, places to be!” Karlach yells at you both from outside the tent. She quickly marches off you assumed to rally the others.

“Seems you’ll have to have those images keep you company blood sucker.” You jest as you get up. He gives a few tsks your way before he turns and opens a trunk to change. He tosses a few things aside, one among them is that gaudy smut novel with the overly romantic cover. You’re almost curious enough to reach for it to see what romantic novel Astarion would bother reading. But alas you hear Karlach once again yell for you to get moving. You make way towards your tent to get ready for the day.

-

You and the rest of your group had made it back on the road in record time. There would be some time before you hit the next town on your tour towards Selunite temple. You had been taking the time walking to try to sort out your feelings. To get your mind back on the task at hand, tadpoles then Cazador. You were deep in thought as Gale jogs up to you and keeps pace. You don’t notice his presence till he clears his throat. Startled, you look up at him.

“Oh Gale! Sorry, I wasn’t even paying attention.” You apologize.

“I noticed. I was just about to ask you what had you so wrapped up in thought.” He gives an easy smile, all ears. You wish you had someone to confess all your mixed feelings to. How these tadpoles had completely rearranged your life. How Cazador was now the closest to your revenge than he ever has been. Yet, you weren’t following that lead now that you needed a cure. How you think you actually developed feelings for a vampire, a species you swore to cut down. One you have hunted with efficiency for some time. And all it took was one flirty and murderous one to change your whole perspective. As much as you think Gale could understand to a degree, his fling with a goddess definitely holds a candle to your plight, you didn’t want everyone to know anymore of your business. So you go for the easy answer.

“Honestly I guess it’s just catching up to me how strange and time sensitive my life has become with these damned tadpoles. I thought my goals and road in life were clear cut. But now, I don’t know if I’ll get to fulfill those or I’ll wake a mind flayer. I just thought by now I would be getting closer to getting my family their revenge, not farther.” You sigh. It felt good to get some of the weight off your shoulders.

“You carry all this burden, all by yourself. Your tense, that much is easy to see even if you said nothing. I thought maybe, if it’s alright with you, I could add a bit of a magical touch?” He asks. You look over at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“This isn’t the part where you accidentally turn me into a toad or something, is it?” You ask deadpanned. Gale let’s out a hearty laugh.

“I promise, no toad making.” He gives out his pinky to you to intertwine in promise. You can’t help but laugh at his innocent actions and give him your pinky in return.

Your little “charade” with Gale was starting to turn rotten in Astarions stomach. He demanded himself to not be jealous. He wasn’t. Not in the slightest. He just so happen to find Gale extremely annoying at the current moment. Seducing you, befriending you, was his ploy not Gales. He can find another radiant and beautiful woman to try that on. Gale had his goddess, Astarion had his and he was intruding on her.

Gale focuses in on his magic and webs together The Weave of magic at his fingertips gently. You watch in awe as you walk a bit slower next to him. He takes the ball of purple lighted magic and drapes it over your shoulders. Instantly you feel a hum of warmth and comfort bleed into your shoulders and neck. You let out a sigh of relief, the tension in your shoulders subsiding as the magic winds into your tough muscles.

“Gods that actually feels amazing~ Gale.” You praise him as you nearly close your eyes in the enjoyment of the massaging.

“Maybe I’ll just be a masseuse after all this.” He jokes.

“I’ll be your most well paying customer.” You smile, relaxing into its touch.

Well now that was entirely too much. Astarion was all for sexual exploits. Gods know he’s done his fair share of whats in lots of different wheres. But this. This was different! He wasn’t exactly sure how it was different but the way his blood turned to ice he felt it was different. You should be paying him that attention. He should be the one to make you feel good. Not Gale. Just then, a sneak idea comes to Astarion. Keep his outer appearance nonchalant, he opens the channel between both of your minds. It doesn’t seem that you notice. Enjoying idle chit chat with Gale as the magic rolls off in purple puffs down your shoulders. He nearly can’t help the carnivorous smile that slips into his lips. Slowly, he feeds you images of you beneath him the night prior. Of you begging and whining for his touch. Images of his hands trailing down your sides raising every goosebump along its way. He can tell you take notice in the way you nearly trip. Your head whips around to look at him but he just focuses on his nails in a devil may care attitude.

You bit your lip nearly ready to yell at Astarion for the sinful images he sends your way. But as you look he acts coy. As if there isn’t a rising sexual tension growing between your minds. If he was going to act like it doesn't affect him, then you would do the same. You turn back round to Gale and ask him questions on his magic background. Gale is a mess of word vomit, excited to tell his tales to someone that will listen. Astarion immediately picks up on the game you are playing. Once again he creates images of pure carnal lust. Of him playing with your wet folds, slicking his fingers slowly mapping you out. His fingers dance around your clit as it sends shocks of need down your entire body. You can’t help but let out a soft choked moan in real life. You slap your hand over your mouth in shock. Astarion let’s out a low snicker at your sounds.

“You alright?” Gale asks. You give him your best smile, trying to hide the warmth spreading over you.

“Oh yeah yeah. Just you know, enjoying this massage and company.” Gale smiles at your answer as he clamps his hand over your shoulder. He gives it a squeeze.

“I enjoy your company too.” Astarion might actually bite Gale if says even one more word. If he touches you one more time he will murder this magician. Images fly out of Astarions mind to yours of him pressing into your shoulder blades with the heel of his palm. Your face down in the bedroll as he takes you from behind. Your arms flailing forward desperate for something to latch onto. He gives you no adjustment, no coddling, no slow movements. He fucks into you hard and fast, his other hand giving your ass a slap that leaves welts of his palm ingrained into your skin. Just as you feel the images combined ecstasies come forth, Astarion leans over and bites into your shoulder in the image.

You yelp, going frigid on the walkway. Everyone else stops too, looking around as if ready for battle.

“What is it, (y/n)?” Astarion asks, a smile that rivals the Cheshire Cat. You glare daggers at him. Though it is hard to be angry with the need and hunger crashing in your loins. Everyone looks to you for your answer.

“Oh just an annoying rock in my shoe, come on we are just about into town!” You hurry forward, as if to outrun the thoughts that had flooded into your mind. This town was much larger than the previous. There were lots of different sectors, underground dens, and temples all across the area. Once again you all decide to meet in the city square when dusk approaches so you could all go set camp together. The rest of the time spent was for everyone to go do what they wanted. Though it was an unvoiced agreement that the time should be spent looking into different avenues for a cure. You decided to look into the temples on the other side of town. There were a few churches within the city. A couple of temples scattered as well. But the temples a few miles from the city were what intrigued you. There was talk that there was old scripture and tomes hidden somewhere in the ruins of the temples. If you could find these ancient texts maybe there would be something in them to help you all. You made your way into the dilapidated ruins before you came to the mouth of the opening. Old wooden doors barded you from entering. The lock looked ancient and it was magically sealed from the use of magic or violence to break it. You were not skilled in lockpicking whatsoever. Most of your skills came from combat or magic. You stare at the door trying to render out an idea before a cold hand comes to rest on the top of your head. You don’t need to turn to know who it is.

“Here to play more games, blood sucker?” You ask. His hand leaves your head as he walks towards the door to inspect it.

“Just thought you could use my help, and company, little killer.” He responds. He reaches for his lockpicking kit he keeps on him at all times and goes to work. The lock is tricky, a lot more to it than the modern day locks. But after a few minutes you hear the familiar pop of a lock coming undone. You can’t help the shocked look you give him.

“I’m wounded you forget my many talents dear. There is far more than bedroom talents to me.” You roll your eyes at him.

“A talent I have yet to see.” You wave off backhandedly. You walk forward into the temple. The inside is much like the outside. Pillars toppled over, old candles with wax clinging to surfaces all over. Sigils and paintings are scattered across the walls. Depictions of epic fights and of families and lovers. Images of archaic weddings and celebrations. The place is covered in cobwebs with puddles of old rusty water in several places. The front door doesn’t give much light so you cast a fire spell onto all the candles nearby in a radius. Astarion saunters over to your side.

“A talent you are more than welcome to indulge in, just say the word.” He teases. The both of you walk through more of the rooms in the temple. Many times you have to use magic to move old statues or pillars out of your way. Or needing to clear a walkway of abandoned desks or bookcases.

“I tried to just the other night and I was turned away. Must not be that much talent if you're scared to share it.” You bite back. Sparks shoot up inside of Astarion at your words. People can say many things about him, blood sucker, murderer, psychopath, but heavens they could not say a bad lover!

“Maybe it’s that you aren’t ready to experience such euphoria.” Astarion strikes back at you. You busy yourself with undoing traps in a back room as he lockpicks a gate to an underground cellar. You light a ball of flame in your hand as you both walk down the spiral stone steps.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you aren’t ready to experience mine?” You ask. As you come to the bottom of the stone steps a door with a magical symbol guards the final room. You inspect the magic and recognize it from your studies in your fathers libraries. It’s quite old, but thankfully not unknown to you. You cast the spell it looks for and it opens it’s rickety doors to you. Inside is the library you searched for. Walls covered in bookshelves of long forgotten texts. A large stone desk built into the floor stands in the middle. Old wooden chairs with torn pillows sit on each side of it. There are candelabras and candles all over the room. You once again light them as you make your way inside. You cross the room over to the table to examine the sole book left there; opened as if someone was in the midst of reading before this place fell. Astarion walks over to you and places both hands on either side of you and onto the table. He closes the space between your bodies. Your back to his chest, shared breath and warmth. Your heart lurches as you wait for his response. He pulls his lips closer to your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

“I would very, very, much like to experience you. Say the word, and you are mine.” He whispers. Once again that familiar all suffocating feeling returns. The tension rose once more. Your hands enclose over his own. You lean your head back onto his shoulder and look back and over at him. Your eyes meet and there is shared hunger in both of your eyes. You lick your lips before you answer him.

“Take me, Astarion.” You can barely let out. His grip tightens on your own. Carnal lust, and maybe something more, perfuming the halls of the forgotten Aphrodite temple.

Part six here

Part eight here

I promise actual smut the next chapter, I’ll stop edging y’all

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates 8

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

The bond sings as you and Astarion take it a step further.

(Pure smut baby, this is more rough but I promise a soft one before this ends ❤️)

“With pleasure.” Astarion’s voice is laced with hot desire. Soaked in the guarantee of your total demise and resurrection. Ensnaring you in the promise of carnal devotion. Ever the faithful, your moan lets out the prayer your body has for him. Pleading for him to have you seeing the stars.

Astarion’s hand shoots up from your interlocked grasp and snatches a fistfull of your (h/c) hair and yanks. Your head whips farther back as your face hovers just below his horizontally. His blood red eyes are blown and wild. A man starved and now offered a ten course meal. His tongue glides over his lips and over his fangs absentmindedly. A moment later his plush lips crash onto yours in a searing kiss. It’s full of want, of desire so powerful and raw it takes the breath out of you. Shivers run a course up through your body. You moan wantonly into his kiss as his tongue delves into your mouth. His other hand comes up to squeeze your hip and massage into your flesh. Nails leaving crescent shapes into what exposed skin there is. His touch rivals that of heavenly intervention. He touches you as if already an expert of your body. One being melting into another perfectly made for them. You bring your hand up and twirl it into his silver locks. He growls at your touch and the hand that was on your hip paws at your hand. Seizing it, he throws it back down onto the gray stone desk.

“You can touch when I say you can touch.” His voice is guttural, raw and blistered with the heat rising in his cold body. The time for soft touches and gentle caresses had since long passed. Passed the moment he couldn't take you in that tavern room. He would normally be one for pacing. For the mewls of delight in the soft and slow. To stretch out the time so long one would forget where one would start and he began. Whisper sweet nothings and tease every last drop out. But this was different from any of those times in his 200 years. For those it was them full of lust and star crossed love. He was merely completing a task. Or on rare occasions he got to enjoy it to a degree. But this. This was.. different. This was a drug he hadn’t known he missed out on all his life. A drug that warped his mind in the most delicious of ways. Creating a crave stronger than that he faced of human blood during his time with Cazador. You invaded his mind and senses and left him only wanting more. It was in your scent, the sweet smell of lily and lavender. In your touch, one that stroked flames he thought were long since extinguished in his undead life. Worst of all was your eyes. They were a chasm, an endless abyss he fell farther into with every glance. He wanted, no needed, to claim every inch of your perfect body. To fill every pore with him and leave you marked. His fangs piercing every delicious section of you he could get his hands on. If not only for others to know that you belonged to him. Though his mission was for you to never want others. For them to never compare to what he can give you.

He unfurls his hands from where they are and uses them on your hips to pivot you towards him. Your hands twitch at your sides, desperate to hold onto him. To wrap yourself around him and not let go. To have every inch of skin touch his so you may never know what it is like to be without him. You lean into the desk, dizzy with arousal to keep yourself up entirely on your own. He closes the gap between you two and slots himself in between your legs. His fingers graze under your shirt and trails upwards in light scratches. They dance around your bra before going to unlatch it in the back. With it undone he balls your shirt up in his hands. He makes a notion with his chin to have you raise your arms. You comply immediately, arms shooting up. Swiftly, you find yourself shirtless with him throwing the clothing somewhere aside in the room. Bringing your hands back down and at your side feels as if it’s killing you slowly. He notices your distress and only gives a breathy chuckle. His lips find the edge of yours in a quick kiss. He then strings kisses down to your jaw and then to your neck. There, he places a flat tongue on your pulse point and licks. Arousal douses between your legs, your neck craning away for more access to him. Like a dog with a bell, you offer yourself to him. For one of his addicting bites. He takes the invitation but only gives small love bites. No fangs involved. He can hear your pout as you realize he isn’t giving you what you want. He gives a lovers mark to your neck as his hands once again massage into your sides.

“So needy for me.” He murmurs into your skin.

“I- I just” is all you can manage out before his hands begin to knead your aching breasts. His thumb coming up on each nipple and rubbing over them just lightly enough to send shockwaves down your spine. He takes your earlobe between his teeth and tugs playfully. His words sultry sweet in your ear as he rests cheek to cheek with you.

“If you want something, ask.” He tempts you.

“I want to touch you.” You respond with no hesitation.

“Ah ah ah, what’s the magic word?” He taunts you. He travels downwards, bending in order to take your nipple in his mouth. He suckles onto your sensitive nub while his other hand works on pinching and massaging your other nipple.

“P-please!” You beg. He had barely touched you and you already felt needy. Overstimulated just from his words and touches alone. You craved more and more would still not be enough.

“And?” He continues. His hands leave their ministrations on your breast and float to your pants. He works the buttons of them as he waits your next words.

“Please sir!” Oh. Well he had been looking for a ‘thank you’ but that did so very much more for him. His erection grows painful and he ruts into you without thought. The power he held over you in this moment was intoxicating. The sir only expediting that.

“Such a good girl for me, go ahead.” He praises you. Your arms scramble for his neck and loop around. He lifts himself up to meet you in a fiery kiss. Tongues dancing as you weave your fingers in his hair once more. You press him as close as you can, desperate for more of him. He breaks the kiss and gives you a devilish smile. One that promises so much absolute sin. Kisses rain down your chest to your stomach as he finally frees your pants and tugs them down. He gives a wide open mouth kiss to the front of your panties. You balance back on both arms as you watch him. He gives kisses and nips along the outer edges, marking your inner thighs. He takes the fabric of your underwear in his teeth and drags them down. His eyes boring into yours all the while, cocky as always. Your legs shake as your head falls back in bliss. You let out a shaky sigh as he helps you shimmy out of your pants completely. More nips and kisses follow before his hand rests flat against your sternum. You lift your head to look at him quizzically. He only presses further and you fall back onto the table. Your hands rest next to your head as he positions your hips to the edge of the table. He kneels before you ready to worship your body. He lifts your legs up and over his shoulders. The flat of his tongue swipes slowly bottom to top of your molten center. A surprised moan tumbles from your lips. Licks follow suit as he maps you out with his tongue. His tongue must be cursed or blessed with the way it moves with such skill. Lapping up your wetness in a way that rivals any succubus. His tongue finds your clit and his lips give you a kiss. From there he gently sucks, creating delicious waves of heat straight from your clit. You wish to claw into something. To hold on to dear life as Astarion makes a meal out of you. One hand squeezes onto your hip as the other comes up to where he kisses you. His fingers go into a v as he spreads you before him. He leaves your clit with a wet pop before watching himself spread you.

Everything about you was so incessantly perfect he wonders if it’ll drive him mad. The way you shudder and gasp at his every touch. Or how dripping wet you get for him before he has even entered you. He had said it once in jest, but he truly does believe the Gods may have made you just to ruin him. You were temptation incarnate, and he was but a weak man before you. He delves a finger into your plush walls and sensually curls his finger back and forth. Your whines only pick up in volume as he strokes inside you. Soon enough he builds a pace and he adds another finger to the mix. His tongue laps at the juices you give to him. There has never been such a delicious nectar to him. His own source of ambrosia. A well of liquid delicacy for him to take as he pleases. Your breath comes in hot spurts as you drive up the hill of ecstasy.

“Ah-Astarion! I’m gonna-“ your voice shakes as your body builds in momentum. Astarions fingers curl exactly where you need them to. He gives you one final slurp as your toes curl. Your back bends up as you slap a hand over your mouth. Your scream of ecstasy muffles behind your fingers. You feel nearly shame from cumming so easily. Astarion sees you gagging back your noises and in a flash is on top of you. His finger lace around your wrists on either side as he glares daggers into you. You can barely swallow under his piercing gaze.

“Don’t you ever hide those delectable noises from me, I want to hear exactly how good I make you feel.” He warns you. You can only nod weakly in return. Your breath trying to fill your lungs once again. You notice the way his loose white shirt tickles against your exposed chest.

“I think. I think it’s quite rude that you aren’t also undressed.” You try to puff out, giving him an exhausted smile. He gives you one in return and draws back to his full height before you. You watch as he practically rips the shirt off of himself as his pants follow suit. You lean back on your elbows to look over him in all his glory. His body is but a work of art. All toned chest without a single blemish. His cock stands tall against his abdomen, bobbing in anticipation. You salivate at just the sight of him. He can’t help but grin at the hungry look in your eyes, eating up the sight before you. On shaky legs you wiggle off the table and move in front of him. He watches you as you begin to sink to your knees in front of him. He grasps onto your shoulders before you can get down.

“There’ll be another time for that. I want you now.” For all his confidence you can sense the stronghold desire has on him in his voice. The way his adam's apple bobs up and down. How his eyes drink all of you in, never settling for just one spot. His pupils blown wide. You trace the pad of your finger under his chin and look up at him.

“So there’ll be another time? Quite self assured.” You tease. His hand comes up and grabs your throat, his thumb under your chin as his hands grip the back of your neck.

“So cheeky, with all that confidence let’s see how well you take me.” He throws back at you. Before you even blink he thrusts you to turn around. His arms come in large swipes across the table and scatters everything in sight. Trinkets, books and goblets go crashing to the floor as he pushes your front down onto the table. Your arms scramble for purchase on the slate as you look back at Astarion. He is the vision of wild abandon. Of carnal lust. He thrusts two fingers into your mouth with the order to suck. You do as you're told and wrap your tongue around the intruding fingers. A wet pop erupts from your mouth as he takes his wet fingers and slickens his length with it. You watch as he works himself to spread your saliva lubricant. You can’t help the hearty moan you let out watching his perfect cock be stroked by him.

“Enjoying the show?” He teases as he quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Very very much so.” You reply he gives that same wild grin.

“Very very much so..?” He questions, slowing the pace of his hand. You swallow hard.

“Very very much so sir.” You fix your statement. He groans as he tightens his grip on himself.

“You learn fast, lover.” He praises you once again as he lines himself up with your entrance. You wiggle yourself back onto him, grazing against his tip. His other hand comes to rest on the small of your back to keep you in place. He teases his tip against you, circling you but not entering. You groan in frustration.

“Astarion!” You whine. You try fruitlessly to move your hips in any way that could give you that much needed friction. He only tuts in disapproval. You have no other option but to squirm to get glimpses of his cock to brush against you.

“Beg.” The simple word falls from his mouth with all the confidence in the world. You whirl your head back at him.

“What?!” You ask astonished. His bravado doesn’t falter a second.

“Beg for my cock. Beg for me to give you what you obviously, desperately, want.” His voice is like honey, liquid gold spun into words. He teases you along with rubbing his tip into your opening. Just barely the head of him pushing into your aching hole and back out again. Over and over he gives you a glimmer of himself, just enough to have you feel as if you’re in a frenzy.

“Please Astarion! Please fuck me!” At your words he rams himself inside of you in a single hard thrust. A scream of ecstasy bounds out of you, taking all your air with it. Your nails dig into the desk clawing at nothing. Astarion grips your hips to ground himself and begins to pound into you. His hips meet yours in powerful spurts as he hits into you in a way that makes the world melt. He fills you in a way that stretches you perfectly. All your mind can think of is him. Of his cock. Of the way he makes you feel like no other person had before. With every slam of his cock you feel as if you may have died and went to heaven. A glorious warmth filling every part of you in a way that makes you forget you even have a body. You moan out his name as if it’s the only word you can even remember how to say. A prayer on your lips, Astarion all you know. Your babbling and whines only fill Astarion and spur him on. Every stutter of his name increasing his ecstasy. He hopes to brand the name on your tongue. To sear it into your mind. So then everytime you ever feel ecstasy it’s with the thought of him.

“Who is it that makes you feel so good darling?” Astarion asks between thrusts, grunts falling from his gritted teeth. You can barely get the answer out between groans.

“You! You Astarion!” Your words jumble as his lifts one of your legs and lays it up and onto the table. The change of position only allows him in deeper, filling more of your quaking center. You feel so amazingly full, engulfed in Astarion. He brings one arm up to your shaking shoulder and finds purchase there. His grip has your front half bending back onto yourself. Astarion leans forward and gives you a searing kiss as he thrusts into you. Once he breaks the kiss he pulls back and out of you.

“Astarion!” You scream in frustration. You flip over and very nearly run to off the table to grab him. Before you can get off the table he wraps each arm over each of your thighs and slides you down. His cock once again slotting between your folds. You feel the throbbing of him sending shocks against your center. You throw your hands up and press the heel of your palms into your eyes. You may just go mad if he keeps up this teasing.

“No no darling. I want to see that pretty face when I make you come. And I want your eyes on me when I fill you with my seed.” He growls. You push your hands up and away from your face. Your eyes trained on him as he lines himself up once again.

“Yes sir.” You barely get out as your voice shakes. He gives you an appreciative squeeze on your thighs. His cock finds its way inside you once again. This time his thrusts are sloppy. Astarion knows his time is close, anymore of this and he may cease to exist. The scent of sex and sweat filling his nostrils. He needed to take you now. Your voice is scratchy and raw as moans tumble out of you. His hands move up, one encircling your waist while the other cradles your head.

“Who makes you feel so good? Who makes you cum?” Astarion grunts between hard slaps of his hips into yours.

“Y-you. You Astarion.” You reply. His hips begin to falter, his climax reaching.

“Who do you belong to?” Astarion snarls.

“You! You Astarion!” You all but scream. That’s all Astarion needs as his climax begins to hit him.

“Mine!” He growls into your skin. Something animalistic takes over him. An ancient strong feeling of claiming. Without thought his teeth meet the flesh of your neck as he bites down. Your vision blurs as your shared ecstasy hits you as well. His bite throwing you over the edge. Your vision blurs and all you can see is the twinkles of his silver hair and the granite ceiling. Your peak filling you completely. Astarion claims you with his cum and coats your insides with him. The bond singing in all its glory in his head. A golden knot intertwines between your minds and tightens. A feeling of one, of shared presence washes over you both. Belonging. Togetherness. It cements into you both and glues you together. Astarion realizes it’s the bond clicking it’s final lock into place. By the look on your blissful face, he can tell you felt something to. What had he done?

Part 7 here

Part 9 here

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 4

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

Astarion and you find yourselves sharing a single bed room for the night. But a nightmare waking you in the middle of the night only brings you closer, much closer than either of you anticipated.

Your eyes nearly bug out in disbelief. Was this the idea of the receptionist's “special room”? 

“Cat got your tongue, dear? You know there’s lots that can be done with a tongue-“ Astarion saunters in after you, stopping in his step at your shared sight. His shoulder brushes yours as you stand side by side. Astarion gives you a side eye before beginning to open his mouth. You hold up your hand to silence him as you feel the headache melting in behind your eyes. 

“I’m going to go talk to the lady. Now.” You scamper out of the room before Astarion can say another word. You run down the steps and go to the front desk immediately. The lady who was once running it is no longer there. You nearly shake the bell sitting on the desk. But a small sign stops you. A yellowed sign lies in the center. On it is written “Sorry, no vacancy”. You sigh in frustration. All you wanted was a night of peace. The ability to relax even just for a few hours. It looked like it was now either sharing with Astarion or sleeping with the wolves. You couldn’t tell which option would be worse. You turn back and head to your room. 

Astarion sits sprawled across the bed. His elbows hold him up as his legs dangle off the side. He looks over at you with an unamused gaze. He raises an eyebrow to you. You shrug your shoulders and give a sigh. 

“No one at the desk. No vacancy. No luck.” You kick your shoes off and jump on the opposite side of the bed in a huff. You stick your palms into your eyes and try to rub the frustration from yourself. Astarion turns over to you and grasps your closest wrist in his hand. He clears your hand from your eye. You open one eye and look over at him. His hand flows downwards and holds your chin in his hand. He spins your face to look at his own. You lower both your hands and hold them on top of your hips. 

“As much as I love to see you upset, you are welcome to the bed.” He says. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. You glare in accusation. 

“And what do you get out of it? There’s no way you’re doing it out of the goodness of your cold heart.” You accuse. He scoffs at you, crossing his arms. 

“Take my rare act of kindness while you can. Besides, it’s not like I sleep.” He shrugs. You sit up on the bed. 

“What do you mean you don’t sleep?” You ask. Astarion chuckles at you.

“Oh little killer, I thought you knew everything about vampires?” He mocks. Your cheeks flare red. 

“Well I mean- I know enough- I think.” You try to defend. 

“Well, vampires don’t sleep. Except for a deep sleep to regain health or power. But mostly it’s just meditation.” He explains. He gets up from the bed and goes over to the fainting couch next to the window. He faces the window and looks out at the view. You take it as a sign that you have truly won the bed and make way to get comfortable. You shimmy out of most of your clothes besides your under garments and get comfortable under the covers. 

“And don’t even think about biting my neck or I’ll wring yours.” You threaten. A small snicker escapes his mouth. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, goodnight little killer.” Astarion softly blows out the candles around the room. Snuggled under the warmth of the blanket and the tranquil space of the room, you fall asleep nearly instantly. 

-

Your hands fall flat against the elegant oak doors in front of you. Grand murals lay chiseled artistically throughout the wood. They look familiar in a sense. Almost as if the images created were of memories past. Pushing them open, you walk into an elegant ballroom. Not any ballroom, it’s your father’s old ballroom. Gold accents the cylinder columns lining the room. White marble flooring sprawls across the floor. Ornate windows bow out the front showing the night fallen garden below. Large pristine mirrors border one edge of the room reflecting the people within. Beautiful women in exquisite gowns along with men in pressed suits line the dance floor. All of them were wearing a masquerade mask accented with pearls and jewels. You reach up and find one resting on your face as well. Looking down you notice you’re wearing that same gown from the shop earlier along with red heels. Your hair is put together with intricate braids cascading down your back. Before you can question anything out loud a red gloved hand takes yours. You look up to red eyes staring back at you. White hair cascades over a dark mask with a cunning smile. Astarion wears an ebony suit with red accents within the tie and cufflinks. You try to respond, to yell, to say anything but find yourself mute. Astarion only smiles more before walking you to the center of the floor. A circle of people crowd you as they watch Astarion twist your linked hands above your head. His other hand finds purchase on your waist as your hand rests on his chest. A band from somewhere within the room begins to play a slow tune. Your feet move along with Astarions, bodies gliding with grace across the floor. As much as you know you should fight this, to unclench yourself from his grasp, the feeling of being here, of dancing on this floor, quells you. How long had it been since you were last here? Since you last danced with a handsome man into the twilight hours. To twirl and delight in company. To not worry about a single thing but gowns and events. To worry about marrying a wonderful heir for fathers company as your biggest trial. At the thought of your father you look out into the crowd for his face. There, at the far edges of the crowd, sit your mother and father clapping and smiling at your show. Your eyes well up with tears. How you missed them. 

“I know your dancing skills are pitiful but it’s truly nothing to cry over.” Astarion jests. You lightly punch his chest as you continue dancing. 

“I missed this. I missed all of this.” You whisper. Your heart swells at the love and longing you feel as you sway across the floor.

“You could have it all back you know.” Astarion replies. Your head shoots up to meet his gaze. He smiles at you once again. 

“How?” You ask. Astarion brings his head next to yours as his lips close in near your ear. You blink and the room goes desolate. Lights flicker above as a film of decay sweeps over the entire hall. The band turns into a twisted sound, something macabre. You try to turn your head towards Astarion and find your neck fixed in place. As he sweeps you in a circle you come face to face with the wall of mirrors. Instead of silver hair, long black hair sweeps down his back. You side eye your hands and see long claw-like fingernails encasing your own. 

“You should have been alongside your family that night. A shame really. I can quickly remedy that.” The man speaks. You recognize that voice. You shudder as you finally are able to pull away. Cazador’s face greets yours with a toothy smile. Long canines glisten in the warped lighting. You go to scream but find yourself mute again. Cazador lunges on you, his mouth going for the nape of your neck. Your hands fly up in defense but you find his own pinning them to your side easily. He bears his fangs and goes towards your neck. The scream aching to leap from your throat finally does and drowns out the music in the room. 

-

You feel strong arms shaking your shoulders. On instinct you throw a fist upwards and catch whomever it is in their nose. 

“By Gods! What in the seven hells-“ Astarion grits out as you blink awake. You find Astarion bent over holding his nose in his hands. You take a quick assessment of the room. It’s the same room you had rented earlier. Not your home. Not the ballroom. Not Cazador. You’re safe. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You look down to see your hands shaking as they hold you up in the bed. 

“What the hell happened?” You ask. Astarion gives you a side eye before wiping his nose. 

“That’s an odd way to say thank you. But if you must know, you started thrashing around and then started screaming. I tried to wake you before everyone in the bloody realm tried to barge in and see what was happening.” Astarion explains. You look down into your hands and try to will them to stop shaking. Your mind may realize it was a dream but your heart and body were late to catch up. It felt like you couldn’t catch your breath, that the floor was spinning and falling out from beneath you all at once. 

“Now if you are all done with that I’ll be going back to my silent meditation, thank you.” Astarion goes to turn away from you and sit back on his couch before your hand shoots out. You don’t even register what you’re doing before your hand wraps around his much larger one. Your eyes fall to the floor, unable to look the vampire in the face. You can’t help the shake that comes out in your words. 

“Please. Stay.” you whisper. Astarion can feel the quiver in your hold. The strange fear laced into your voice. Whatever had scared you had well and truly scared you, even more than your hate for him. He found himself unable to hold back the snarky smile that he pulled. 

“Oh? Need the big bad vampire here with you? Honestly if you wanted me in your bed with you all you had to do was ask. I would have let you down, lightly.” He bites back. Your grip instantly leaves him as you go to turn to your other side with a huff. He finds it out  the way his heart drops at the loss of contact. At the way he almost, almost, misses your hand in his. Stupid mating bond. 

“Just forget I said anything, I must be delirious if I thought-” You begin but Astarion cuts you off by falling into place next to you on the bed. He sits against the headboard next to you. 

“Well don’t ever say I’ve never done anything for you. Any more screaming though and you’ll find a more violent means of stopping it.” He retorts. He crosses his arms and stares straight ahead. You let out a small giggle at the sight. He gives you a glare in return.

“You are one strange vampire.” you reply. With that you snuggle back into a comfortable spot in bed. You try not to be near or touch Astarion but it can’t even be helped with how close he sits to your body. You surprise yourself with how comforting you find it to be sleeping next to someone. To know that someone is watching your back and keeping you safe. Even if that person is a blood sucking vampire. You blame it on his damned cologne, he smelled far too intoxicating for you to ever admit. The smell and feeling of him coddles you into a restful sleep. 

Astarion thought once he had heard your soft snore and restful heart rate that he would get up from the bed. But he finds it fascinating watching you sleep so peacefully. Here you were, a self pronounced vampire hater and hunter, and you fall asleep so easily next to him. He thinks you a fool, a dangerous and stupid fool. He brushes hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. Though, he may be a bit of a fool as well. 

Astarion hadn’t meant to fall into such a deep and relaxed meditation. At some point in the night he felt a tranquility he hadn’t in some time. With that relaxation came him drifting more deeply into the bed and under the covers. So tranquil in fact that as you begin to wake you find strong arms wrapped around your core. Astarion’s chin rests on the top of your head as he grips you in your sleep. Though he himself is cold you feel nothing but warmth. Your sleepy mind wants to snuggle in further. To not leave the calm of this moment. But your mind catches up and you attempt to pull yourself from his superhuman strength. He doesn’t budge at first and you push harder. 

“Damn it Astarion! Let go!” You thrash. You wiggle in his grip and your ass falls back against his hips. His hard length is easily evident against you. On instinct Astarion’s hips rut into yours. You let out a choked moan and clamp a hand against your mouth. Astarion stirs from his meditation and realizes the predicament he is in. He releases his arms from you as if you are made of acid. You scamper to the far end of the bed and get on your knees. You turn your body towards him as Astarion does the same. 

“Now what in the hells do you think you are doing?” Astarion accuses with a scowl. You gap in disbelief. You point a finger into his chest forcefully. 

“Me?! What do you think you are doing? I wanted someone on look out, not a damned cuddle!” you counter. His hand snakes around the one you have pointed in his chest and goes to push it from him. Your nostrils flare in anger as your hands grab him by the scruff of his collar. You inadvertently pull him closer as your knees make distance forward. He replies in kind and grabs onto your locked grip. He bares his fangs at you and nearly hisses in his growing frustration and maybe, slight, embarrassment. 

“As if I would give you a cuddle.. let alone anything!” His nails dig into your skin and they bite just slightly into your skin. He brings his face in closer at his next statement. “As if I would stoop so low.”

 Your anger only gets flamed more and you use your grip on his shirt as leverage as you throw him back down onto the bed. He is briefly taken by surprise before he swings a leg up and reverses your positions. Your back slams back into the mattress. You go to throw a punch at his face but only nearly make contact before his hands snatches yours up and above your head. You wrap your legs around his hips and try to push off to get traction and pull away. But with your movements his hips come down and into yours. His bulge gyrates into your barely clothed intimate folds. You bite your lips in time to stop the moan from coming out once again. But Astarion can tell. He can hear the racing of your heart. The smell of your heat. He brings his head down closer to yours as you stare daggers. 

“How vile.” he whispers in a mocking tone. He’s enjoying this, enjoying seeing you helpless and needy. It fills a primal part of him that begs for him to do more, to go further. 

“Disgusting.” you spit back as you tilt your head closer to him. Pure rage is felt in your shared stare and the air is thick with anger and anticipation. Your breath only comes in quick spurts and you feel like the world is spinning. Astarion brings his face ever closer to yours. 

“Dreadful.” he bites back. Your lips quiver and you can’t help your tongue from darting out to wetten them. Astarion watches your movement and his look shows nothing but absolute hunger. 

“Repulsive.” you whisper against his lips. All it takes is your quick glance down at his lips before all sense is wiped from Astarion’s mind. His lips crash against your own instantly. Teeth clash as he throws his body weight against your frame. Your legs pull him down further onto you as move down onto his clothed member. Astarion hisses as his hands leave your wrists and grasp each side of your hips. He grinds his lower half into you as his hands leave indents into your sides. Your hands immediately fly up and wrap around his neck. He ruts against you harshly and you freely moan into his mouth. 

“Such an easy little vixen.” Astarion laughs. One of your hands wraps into his silver hair and yanks it back. His red eyes glare into you as you smile in his discomfort. 

“Not so easy you beast.” You respond. You flip your bodies and find yourself in his lap. His hand winds up and to your neck as holds pressure on your pulse. His other fingers curl into your hair and hold your head still. His lips find yours again and you fling your arms around his neck once more. You pull yourself impossibly closer, chest to chest with a man you hate with all your heart. His tongue darts out and begs entrance into your mouth. You open and immediately bite down on his tongue. His grip on your hip and head tighten deliciously. 

“You little witch.” he snarls. Before you can lash back at him the hand holding your hip presses you into him in time with his thrust against you. You gasp at the delectable friction it gives to your aching core. With your moment of weakness Astarion claims dominance over your mouth. His tongue lashes out along your own as you battle for dominance. One of your hands curls into his hair while the other grips his back in need for something, anything, to grab onto. The hand holding your hip snakes up and under your undershirt and makes its way to your breast. Heavy heated breathes are shared between you two as his thumb just barely grazes over your nipple before a voice stops you. 

“Check out time is 0800 sharp! Enough beauty sleep Astarion and let’s get going!” Lae’zel pounds on the door. Astarion and you pull away from each other instantly and you can only stare at one another. You take in his messy curls, the red tint to his lips, the animalistic hunger in his eyes. You know you don’t look any better. You hop off of him in a hurry and go to the bathroom to change without a word. Astarion can only watch your retreating form as he tries to wrap his mind around what had just occurred. By Gods, you were dangerous.

part three here

part five here

If you want tagged in the next part just comment and ill reply when the next one is done!

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 5

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

After your night in a shared tavern room you find yourself tending to a hurt Astarion. Wounded, he finds himself famished.

Legs collapsing under you, you lean against the now closed bathroom door as you slide to the floor. What in the hells just happened? The whole thing felt like a blur. A memory of someone else’s. There’s no way you would lust after someone like him. It’s as if being in his presence makes all the hate and anger you have towards vampires melt to the background. It’s so easy to forget who he is, what he is. It’s so easy to fall into a hysterical rivalry full of jabs and insults. You would dare say it’s even.. enjoyable. You hoist yourself back up and run to the wash basin to splash water in your face. This can’t be happening. Whatever the hell that was was a fluke. It would never, ever, happen again. Somewhere small, in the very back of your mind, you almost caught your own lie.

After getting dressed and preparing mentally you go back out to the room. You are greeted with an empty bedroom. You sign in relief and grab your belongings before heading out. You meet with your party down on the base floor. Heads turn in your direction and nod in greeting. Though Astarion finds it more interesting to chat up the barmaid currently serving him. You bristle at the sight but wipe it from your mind. It never happened for you and it never happened for him, problem solved. You slide into the booth besides Karlach as she pushes a breakfast plate your way.

“Get enough sleep then, beauty queen?” Karlach asks. You greedily wolf down the plate in front of you as you reply.

“Best nights rest I’ve had in a minute!” You respond joyfully in between mouth fulls. Karlach laughs as you attempt to wipe around your mouth.

“Here.” Gale reaches out with his thumb and wipes your chin where a bit of food was left. “Good as new.” He beams. You can’t help the light blush that dusts your cheeks.

“Oh well thank you Gale.” Though unbeknownst to you, Astarion watches with obvious distaste.

“Alright alright, well if you're all down engorging yourself I’d really like to get back on the road. Places to be and all that.” Astarion announces from the top of the table. He slides his chair out from under him and makes way towards the door. You raise an eyebrow towards Shadowheart.

“Before you got down from your room we ended up finding some leads on potential cures on the tadpoles. There’s a goblin priestess who serves the Absolute. She’s alledgedly in the Selunite temples a few towns over near Elturel.” Shadowheart goes on to explain. With that, you finish your breakfast and head out with the rest of your group.

-

A few hours into your journey your group comes across a darkened path. Signs in a tongue you don’t recognize line the dirt road leading forward. Enormous trees with thick treetops darken the path till near darkness. Not a sound comes from it. No chirping song birds, no rustling of deer. Just the howling wind rushing between the tree limbs. Something about it makes you uneasy. You stop in your tracks at the sight. You nearly want to tell everyone to turn around. To ask a fellow traveler another way ahead. Just as you want to turn and say something, Astarion comes shoulder to shoulder with you. He looks you over and clicks his tongue.

“My my, don’t tell me you're scared little killer?” He mocks. You scoff and cross your arms in defiance.

“I am not! I’m just.. concerned. For everyone’s safety.” You defend. He only gives a laugh as he saunters off further down the trail. Shadowheart offers a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder.

“All will be well.” She says before following Astarion. As much as you want to take stock into what she says, you can’t help the nervous pit in your stomach. You swallow your fear and head forward with the rest of the group.

The inside of the forest is just as haunting as the entrance showed. You keep a hand on the blade you have holstered at your side. Gale begins a tangent on a story about a magical forest or another before a sound stops you. It’s faint, but the snap of twigs up to the left has you on alert. The others hear it too and stop along with you. The sound stops and you wait a moment before continuing.

“Probably a lost fawn, probably just as scared as our little leade-agh!” Astarion’s bantering ceases when an arrow flies and hits him directly in the shoulder. He falls to a crouch while reaching for the intrusion in his arm. The rest of your team also crouches and brandishes their weapon. More arrows fly from the tops of the trees and it sends you all scampering for cover. Astarion, Karlach, Lae-zel and you go for the left side of the trail while the rest of the team goes for the other side. Lae’zel and you go for throwing knives and arrows where Karlach damn near burns the trees surrounding you down. Astarion does some damage as best as he can with one arm down. You see the other members of your party fighting just as hard.

As weapons fly the amount of arrows lessens till it ceases. Out of breath and bloodied you and Lae’zel trot ahead to look at the damage done. A small fleet of goblins lay dead and scattered on the forest floor. You both make quick work in retrieving anything useful from them all before regrouping. Shadowheart does her best to mend Astarions shoulder with what she has at hand.

“It looks like there was a bit of poison on the tip of the arrow. I have most of what I need to purge it from his system, it may take a few hours to fully leave his body.” Shadowheart explains. Astarions face is twisted in pain as he holds onto his wounded shoulder.

“Their camp is close by. I say we finish off whomever is left and take it for the night.” Lae’zel mentions. You nod in agreement and help Shadowheart with getting Astarion up and on his feet. Ever arrogant he brushes off the help and stays determined to act as if nothing wounded him. You roll your eyes but drop it before getting into another “lovers quarrel”. The group follows Lae’zel’s lead as she hunts down the goblin camp. It takes some time to get there, a lot to do with injuries sustained. You keep a watchful eye on Astarion as he pants with each step. You can tell he lost a good bit of blood from the way he seems even more pale than usual. The poison creates a gnarly green color around the wound. He wears a pained scowl that tells he was well and truly hurt.

Finally you all come upon a small ridge overlooking a clearing. Below lies the goblin camp with the slim amount of goblins left. It takes nearly no effort for you and your group to silently clear them out from above. Once the last ones are dead you all slip down into the campsite. To your surprise there was actually quite a bit of supplies at the camp. Scavenging around you find a supply tent full of dried meats, fruits, medicines, soaps, and more. You wave everyone over and you can practically feel the excitement at having so much food at your fingertips. Karlach makes quick work of getting a fire going while you and Gale portion out food for everyone. Everyone settles in around the campfire as they dig into the food you handed out.

Astarion sits on a log with his untouched plate next to him. Shadowheart had done all she could in healing him but the blood loss was getting to Astarions head. The pain was searing into his shoulder. As if reading his mind, you come and sit next to him.

“Wyll mentioned seeing a stream just past the trees over yonder. How about we get that wound cleaned?” You ask. Your face holds no malice, no hint of an ulterior motive. Just genuine concern with your eyebrows scrunched in worry. It makes something in Astarions stomach does flips that he quickly shuts down.

“If you’re looking for a way to see me naked you could just be forthcoming.” Astarion jokes. As much as he wants to maintain a look of cool arrogance you can hear the pain laced in his words. You punch him in his good shoulder lightly. He feigns an overly dramatic wounded look.

“Or I want to make sure you are properly healed. I need you alive, remember?” You tut at him. You stand offering your hand to help him up. He ignores it and stands on his own. You grab a bucket, soaps, and linens from the supply tent and lead Astarion into the tree line. You hear howls and whistles coming from your companions but you both ignore them. It doesn’t take very long for you both to come upon the stream. Astarion plops down against a nearby tree while you fetch water. Sitting in front of him you aid in carefully getting is bloodied shirt off. You can tell he has another snide comment coming but you shut it down with a glare. He tries to chuckle at the face you make but getting his shirt off from around the wound makes him see red with pain. The blood around the wound causes the cloth to stick to his skin like glue. You carefully pick it away with as much tenderness as you can. Astarion watches you as you concentrate on freeing him of his shirt. Even through the pain he can’t help but feel mesmerized by you. The way your eyes sparkle with determination. The way you bit your lip in concentration. It nearly distracts him from the searing pain in his shoulder.

“Alright hold still, it might hurt a little.” You warn. You soak a washcloth in soapy water before beginning to dab at the incision. Astarion hisses in pain but keeps still. To distract himself he asks you.

“Why Cazador?” He finds himself asking. It had been on his mind since you propositioned him days earlier. What on earth would a non-vampire have to do with him?

“Well aren’t you blunt. And rude may I add. Not one for light conversation?” You deflect the question. Your mind already wanting to go to that dark place. To the memories you try so hard to run from.

“And I don’t think that’s an answer.” He retorts. You snort a laugh at him before returning to the seriousness of the question. You had never told anyone before. Not that there has really been anyone who knew Cazador before Astarion. But your trauma, your grief, was yours to bear. And you did so alone. But something breaks your silence and has the words tumbling from your lips.

“He killed my family. A deal gone wrong with my father that costed him our entire family.” You stare at the work at hand, refusing to meet Astarions eyes. Before he has a chance to respond you just give him a silent shake of your head. You weren’t ready to hear the “I’m sorrys” that came with your story. To discuss it any further. Astarion seems to understand and nods his head.

With a bit of determination and care you are able to clean the wound nearly completely. You take the extra bit of linens you brought and wrap it around the wound to allow it to heal. You look to Astarion ready to make some comment to break the tension before you notice how gaunt he looks. His eyes find yours and for the first time they look... vulnerable.

“Astarion, are you okay?” Your hand comes to rest on his cheek to turn his face completely to yours. He sighs and you can see the slight shake in his body.

“I need to feed. But in this state I don’t know how possible that is.” He sighs. He can feel the hunger rattling his canines. The way his stomach howls and his throat aches. He remembers this type of hunger. When he thought he would die at the mercy of Cazador withholding disgusting vermin. You search his eyes and find only the truth. You swallow hard and bring a hand up to brush away your hair from your shoulder. You turn your head to the side and hold your hands in your lap.

“Well then be quick. And don’t think I’ll offer this every time you get hurt.” Your voice shakes. Your mind and body scream at you that this is a horrible idea. A terrible idea. But with the way Astarion looks at you, you know he will only be getting worse without satiating his hunger. Astarions head whips forward and his eyes nearly bug out from his head. Did he hear you right? Were you truly offering yourself to him?

“Dear, are you sure?” He asks, confused. He can see the shake in your body but you still nod your head. He takes your hand in his as he ventures closer to your neck.

“Tell me when to stop and I promise I will.” He whispers against your skin. The slight nod of understanding is all he needs before he bears his fangs. His teeth bury themselves into the nape of your neck and you can’t help the way it takes your breath away. You squeeze Astarions hand for support. It makes all thoughts melt away from you. It blends the two of you into one as if you are two parts of the same soul. It’s painful but also somehow peaceful. As if a wave of comfort and belonging flowed from him. You lean into him and relax.

For Astarion it’s as if he is seeing color for the very first time. As if the earth had cracked open and freed him from centuries of neglect. Rushing feelings of euphoria hit him as he greedily gulps down your delectable blood. That all too familiar feeling of the bond aches to be knotted inside of him. To take and claim you as you are rightfully his. That the universe had graced him with a mate and all he had to do was reach out and take. Astarion feels dizzy with power. With lust. With an all consuming feeling that you would be his destruction and resurrection.

You gently squeeze his hand as you feel yourself getting more and more dizzy. You feel lightheaded as if you're melting into the clouds. He doesn’t register your grip and you squeeze once again.

“Astarion.” You are able to barely whisper. At that he snaps from his trance and retracts from you. He laps up the remaining blood from your neck and you shiver at his tongue's touch. It riles something inside of him that sends electricity right to his core. You look over at him with a near dopey smile. He can’t help but smile back even with your blood glistening off his canines.

“Hey, you didn’t kill me.” You giggle. He can’t help but laugh with you. He can tell the blood loss was making you nearly drunk, a sleepiness taking over.

“Ye of little faith. Now come on, you go on back to camp.” He dusts himself off and helps stand you up alongside him. You give him a confused look.

“And where are you doing?” You ask. His eyes darken with a glint. He looks stronger. Vibrant. Ready to take on anything.

“To hunt, little killer. I’ll be back.” And with that he stalks off into the night. As you make your way back to camp you miss the cracking sounds of feet nearby. Of a hidden sorcerer hidden in the trees following Astarion.

-

You wake to a screaming match outside your tent. Sunlight streams in through your thin tent and has you blinking away the sleep from your eyes. You rub your eyes with your palms and try to straighten yourself. The screaming only gets louder outside. You nearly throw your pillow over your head and attempt to get more sleep. To ignore whatever juvenile argument was happening between your partners. But the word vampire has you jolting awake and running outside.

You find Gale spearheading the group as they corral Astarion to the edge of the camp. His hands are up in mock defense as he lashes out at them with insults.

“Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t run a stake through your dead heart!” Gale screams. The rest of your party stands behind him, ready to pounce. You run to Astarions side without a thought.

“(y/n)! Careful! He’s a-“ Karlach starts.

“Vampire.” You finish, standing in front of Astarion between him and the witch hunt. Everyone looks shocked at your admission. Even Astarion seems dumbfounded. Why were you defending him?

“You knew? You knew and you let him continue to follow us? To live?” Wyll responds.

“That’s exactly what I did.” You keep your cool as best you can. But your hand twitches just above the blade you keep holstered at your thigh.

“Why in the gods names would you do that? You’re a vampire hunter for gods sake!” Wyll continues. Somehow the answer is easy. Easier than you thought admitting it would be.

“Because I trust him.” A hush falls over you all. Your heart beats wildly as you attempt to think of an escape plan if things are to go bad. Astarion all but forgets the angry mob in front of him. Your words stick in his mind and take up all its space. Trust. You trusted him. Him who has only ever been deceitful. A liar, a con man. Someone who has never been trusted and has never given reason to. And you, a little vampire hunter, trusted him. The mating bond sings in his mind and shines bright.

“Give us one reason to trust him.” Gale counters. You take a second to think of a good reason before your hand reaches up towards your collar. You shrug your jacket off and thrust the collar of your shirt down. You expose the bite marks Astarion left on your body from last night.

“Because he fed on me and stopped. Because I trusted him and he did nothing to disprove it. I gave him a chance at my life and he denied it. Which means you can all do the same.” You loosen your grip on your shirt and watch everyone’s reaction. They all seemed stunned, not expecting your answer. Astarion can barely believe it either. He takes a step forward to stand next to you. His shoulders touch yours as he comes close.

“We are all afflicted with these awful worms in our heads. We are all on the same team. Besides, I mostly have self control.” He tries to calm the group. It takes a moment but the tension of the air dissipates. Shoulders slump and weapons are reholsted. Sighs of relief are heard all around.

“Well as long as you don’t bite I guess that’s that.” Shadowheart says as she turns away. The rest of the group grumbles their shared approval and head back to their respective tents. Your body finally relaxes as you let go a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You look over at Astarion to find him already looking at you. You turn to ask him what’s on his mind before his lips find your forehead. The kiss is swift, barely skin to skin contact. But it blossoms a blush across your whole body all the same. You look up at him to find him smiling.

“Thank you, your kindness will not be forgotten.” He says before walking away to his tent. You freeze in position unable to move or think. Your hand reaches up and touches where he had kissed you. You inspect your fingers as if looking for evidence that that had truly happened. Something deep and ancient stirs deep inside you and you're terrified of how much you enjoyed it.

Part four here

Part six here

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 2

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

You find yourself confronting Astarion on the whereabouts of a certain vampire, but get more than you bargained for.

Summer kissed winds whistle around your party as you continue to trek forward. The nearest town was still some many miles away according to the ancient wooden sign you saw ways back on the dirt path you’ve followed. You had all come to the agreement that there must be someone, somewhere, who knows what those things were and how to treat the parasite they implanted in all of you. The team couldn’t be more different and strange if you tried. Personalities instantly clashing and fights already broken out. You maintain peace as best you can, somehow the unspoken leader of the rag tag group. You warm to most of the members, all but the cold blooded one. There was no mistaking what those eyes were. The way his canines came to such a point. You’ve met enough of his kind, with swift justice making them meet their end. Not one of them had gotten you any closer to who and where the vampire who had killed your family is. You planned to be asking Astarion similar questions once his guard was down and camp was set. That time should be coming here shortly, the sun beginning its turn down for the evening as it crests over the mountains in warm orange light. Thankfully you and the rest of your party had found left bits and pieces of gear along the trail to put together a semblance of a camp. Even lucky enough to buy or swindle for more when passing fellow travelers or merchants. Astarion had somehow charmed a group of travelers into a lavious camping set, the lucky bastard.

The tranquil sounds of a river flowing fills your ears and your stomach can’t help but grumble at the thought of the seafood within it. The others must think the same as you as you all come to a standstill locating which direction the sound comes from. You lead the group through the brush off the path keeping an ear for the sound of lapping water getting louder. Under fallen trees and several berry bushes you find a quaint clearing near said river. The surrounding trees give much needed shade with limbs of long forgotten trees placed nearly in a perfect triangle in the center.

“Perfect!” Karlach rejoices, throwing her camp gear on the ground with a thud. Everyone shakes off the equipment they’ve so far gotten and make way to prepare the space for the night. Astarion flanks your side silently, his lips so close to your ears you can feel his breath on your neck.

“Good job little killer.” A tingle shoots straight up your spine and shakes out through your shoulders. You scowl and side step, ready to remind him of personal space but he’s already moved and gone to set up his tent. You bite your lip in frustration and choose to not follow behind him. He would be hearing from you very soon regardless.

—-----------

With dinner settled in your stomach and water in your canteen you felt like a brand new person. A fire roared in the middle of the logs as you all enjoyed the warmth of the fire against the cool night air. You passed time seeming to absentmindedly twiddle pieces of wood, small but necessary stakes easily hid under clothing. No one seemed to pay it any mind. People were now drifting in and out of the warm campfire, most calling it a night. You feigned the same, cuddled into your sleeping sack. Truly, you kept an eye on Astarion and his comings and goings. If your assumptions were correct, he would need to leave camp soon to find someone or something to sink his teeth into. That’s when you would sneak into his tent and surprise him on his return. You peer out of one eye and find Astarion closing the tent he set up a bit away from the rest of everyone. Only the small crunch of branches alerts you that he has went off into the forest. You waste no time and jump out of the sleeping bag and head towards his tent. You do a double check around camp, sure that everyone is truly asleep. With a bated breath you break your way into his tent. A gasp escapes you as you take in the lavish interior. Soft fur pelts line the flooring with fluffed pillows and duvets littering the far corners. Black silk sheets are thrown over overly plush arm chairs. A long oak table with an ornate table cover littered with maps and quills sits to your immediate left. Dripping wax candles crowd every surface available to them. Your attention snaps to the sound of soft footsteps nearing the tent just outside. You curse yourself for even taking the precious time to gape at his grand belongings. You make the quickest and easiest decision and dive under the table. Just at that moment you hear his feet at the entrance and swallow your ragged breaths. You’ve got this, this isn’t anything new to you; you remind yourself. You register the polished shoes of Astarion enter inside. He makes a few steps into the tent and you ready yourself. You smirk at how easy this has become. Stupid vampires, so full of themselves, so naive and not even suspecting-

“Are you going to come out or do I have to drag you out?” Astarion asks in a bored tone. Your nails dig into your palms in frustration. Biting back every curse you can think you slink out from under the table and stand behind the vampire. He keeps his back to you as he reaches in front of his chest to undo the buttons of his shirt. Animal blood stains the front of his shirt, his first feed had made all civility lost on him. Savagery had taken hold of him and he felt that same fire now. For how it was going to be used was up to you.

“You know if you wanted a fun little night you could of just asked me little killer.” Astarion muses, mocking your new nickname. A cocky smirk graces his face as he juts his chin towards the pile of pillows in the corner. “That would make a much better spot than that dreary old table.”

You reach ever so carefully down into your boot where you had kept a stake hidden. Controlling your breaths, counting each one to zero in your focus you raise your weapon straight.

“I came here looking for answers, not to fuck.” You spit from behind grinding teeth. You remind yourself of the anger that fuels you. The revenge that fills your being and drives you.

“Oh darling, who says both aren’t possible.” Astarion keeps up, he cocks his head your way as he begins to turn to look at you. He’s met with the sight of your deadly stare and a sharpened stake directed right at him. All smugness wipes clean from his face as fury takes hold. “Smart little thing.” is all he gets out before you rush him. Your feet move quick, unnaturally fast, and bring you closer to him. Astarion swings to the side grabbing hold of your arm to further throw you into the tent. He brings you off kilter, stumbling forward past him. You correct yourself and pivot back. An alabaster hand flys forward and grabs the scruff of your shirt. His other hand reaches out to further grab hold. But you move and wrap a leg around his own and pull towards yourself. He loses balance and tumbles back a bit. Its enough to get his hand off of you and you use those precious moments to push off and towards him. Your fingers grip your stake and you raise it overhead. Astarion sweeps a leg out and catches your midriff. Oxygen explodes out of your lungs as you crash into the table. Astarion leaps onto you, catching each of your arms with his hands. He twists the stake out from your grip and seizes both of your wrists in one of his hands. The momentum has your back slamming into the oak beneath you. A hand pounds down next to your head as Astarion face comes a breath away from your own.

“Looks like your quite trapped.” Astarion snickers. His lips hover just over your own, breathes mingling in the small bit of space between you two. Hungry crimson eyes skim over you and find purchase in your biting gaze. Heat and anger passes in your shared stare. His canines shine in the flickering candle light as he brings himself inch by inch closer to your neck. Your throat bobs and you swear his eyes follow the thump of your pulse in your carotid. You can’t help the muffled squeal that barely escapes your full lips. Astarion hears it though and his malicious grin only grows wider. You push against the restraint of his strong grasp and wriggle on the hard table. His other hand comes to your throat and cold fingers swipe hair away from your neck. His thumb presses under your chin and forces your gaze up and over as his nose brushes against your cheek. Hot breath licks your neck.

His attention is now fully on his next meal and away from the threat that truly lies beneath him. Using core strength you fling your body upwards as best you can as you tuck your knees into your chest. Not a second later your boots find purchase on his chest and thrust him back as hard as you can. Astarion flounders back and trips over the discarded silk sheet lying on the floor. You push off the table hard and sink into a crouch. A second stake hidden in the opposite boot makes its appearance as you then jump on the fallen Astarion. You straddle him, a hand on his chest with the other pointing the stake right at his jugular. The point just kisses his ivory skin creating a small wound. He scowls at you, nothing but pure hatred gleaming through his eyes.

“Like I said, I have questions. And you are going to answer them Vampire.” You press. You see a small flinch of movement come from his hands and you warn him with jabbing the sharpened wood a little deeper into his throat. You tut at his attempts to move.“You are not my first nor last biter, so don’t try it with me.”

“But I would dare say I’m the most handsome.” He smiles. You have to fight the urge not to roll your eyes. He assesses his situation looking you up and down. Asserting you are a decent enough threat he stills his attempts at escape. “What’s your questions then?”

“I’m looking for a certain vampire. I have a score to settle. Names Cazador, where can I find him?” You ask. At the mention of the vampire Astarion’s face drops. A chill wraps the air and an unnatural stillness settles between the two of you. The temperature drops and you almost shiver. Astarion’s face is unreadable, a look of fright and confusion mixes on his face. Nails digging into the wooden weapon you lean into it, putting a bit of extra pressure on the device.

“Well? Anything to say blood sucker?” Your patience thinning. Astarion’s eyebrows scrunch together, trying to unwrap what you had just said to him. Surely he must of misheard you. There’s no way some stranger he just happen to meet would be asking about the Cazador. His old master. The slave owner. His personal horror.

“Cazador?” Asatarion can’t help but repeat. His brain refused to keep up with what was happening. His thoughts a run away train at the mention of his old owner.

“Did I stutter vampire? Now are you going to tell me or do I press this stake all the way through?” You seethe.

“Why?” The authenticity of his question makes your eyebrows raise. His face holds no mystery, just curiosity.

“Does it matter? He has spilled blood and I plan to return the favor. Now. Where can I find him? Once this tadpole situation is handled he’s my goal.” You press. Astarion takes a minute to ponder his situation.

“I’ll tell you where he is. For a cost. A tic for tac. See, if you want to get your hands on Cazador you are going to have to get in line. I have my own qualms with him myself. We could.. help each other.” He bargains. A feeling of mistrust burrows deep in your chest. No good came from vampire bargains. As much as you had high suspicions, this was the first time someone knew Cazador or was willing to go against him in giving away his location.

“And what do you want in return?” You ask. You back the pointed stick from his jugular and retreat your hands from him. Astarion brings himself up by the elbows to look you in the eyes.

“A debt to be collected at my choosing. Doing what I ask at that time.” Asatarion smirks. Curse the vampire, of course he would keep an open ended bargain. You desperately want to say no. To drive a stake in his unmoving heart and go on with it. But this was your first shot, maybe only shot, at finding Cazador. Letting a long breath out you level your gaze with his. You hesitate before responding.

“Are the rumors true? Bargains with vampires are signed with a kiss?” You timidly ask. It was something you had picked up from another traveler before. Someone who had run into their supposed fair share of vampires. A wide smirk stretches across Astarions face.

“My my, don’t you know everything. Now, do we have a deal?” You take one more deep breath and give a small nod. Astarions hand reaches up and wraps around your neck and twines within your hair. His other hand finds purchase on your hip and brings you closer to his chest. He lifts his face to yours as you gently bend to reach. Your eyes flutter close as Astarions lips press into your own. Lips mold perfectly together, as if they were created for this moment alone. A knot tightens in your chest. A soul grabbing lurch pulls you into him. It’s gravitational. World stopping. Like when your eyes had met for the first time the world seems to fall away from the both of you. Just as quickly as it had come, Astarion pulls from the kiss. You mentally recover from the way it gripped you so harshly. Chalking it up to the very anti-romance your life has led thus far. You swear you see astonishment in his features, but just as quickly it is gone.

“And whoever told you bargains are sealed with kisses was the biggest perv in all Faerun, but do thank him for me.” Astarion is all grins. A blush explodes across your face and down your chest. You feel red hot and immediately jump off Astarion as if he is made of fire. Astarion rises, flicking dust from his shoulders nonchalantly.

“You are the absolute worst!” You all but scream.

“Please, the flirting can only get you so far.” Astarion watches you fling yourself from his tent without a look back, hot anger palpable from you. Once you made your exit Astarion sinks to his knees with a hand quivering at his lips. He had a small suspicion when he met your gaze. The way the world seemed to standstill. That an immortal and ancient knot seem to tie at that very moment. But he didn’t think it possible. A rarity. Almost laughable really, especially for a spawn.

“Mates.” He whispers to himself.

Part one here

Part three here

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Thanksgiving in Baldur's Gate 🍂༘⋆༄˖°.

| Gale Dekarios x Tav

summary: Tav cannot believe the party has never heard of Thanksgiving, a tradition from their homeland. So, they decide to throw Baldur’s Gate’s first annual Thanksgiving celebration as a reward for weeks of hard work.

cw: tooth-rotting fluff, blood, hunting excursion, implied smut and countless turkey-related innuendos. puns. warm and fuzzy feelings

an: Happy Thanksgiving, my loves! Please take some time over the next few days to acknowledge and celebrate the history of America's Native people, and educate yourself on ways to show up for them today and in the future.

ps i need someone with an ounce of artistic ability to draw Gale holding the flowers with a dopey look in his eye please I BEG

“What do you mean you’ve never heard of Thanksgiving!” Tav shouts, nearly dropping the dagger they were sharpening.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “What the fuck is there to give thanks for?”

“What is Thanksgiving, exactly?” Gale asked, gently taking the dagger from Tav’s hands so they didn’t accidentally stab anyone with their manic gesticulating. “Something from your homeland?”

“It’s a holiday, like a—” How to put it in terms they’d understand? “A feast!”

Karlach perked up. “What kind of feast?”

“It was originally this like, fucked up celebration of imperialism, but now it’s just a day where you hang out with your family, eat too much food and rest,” Tav explained to the confused party.

“Why is called ‘thankstrading’ or whatever?” Wyll asked.

“Thanksgiving,” Tav corrected. “It’s a day to be thankful!"

“Again, what the fuck is there to be thankful for?” Astarion huffed.

Tav deflated a little. “I don’t know. I thought maybe—”

“Would it make you happy, love? To celebrate this Thanksblessing?” Gale asked, placing a reassuring hand over theirs.

Tav nodded. “I just usually celebrate with my family, but since the ship picked me up…” they trailed off, that familiar sorrow wedging itself deeper into their heart.

“Then it shall be done,” Gale said, glaring at Astarion when the vampire opened his mouth to protest. “I think we all deserve a day of feasting and rest, anyways.”

“Fuck yes,” Karlach pumped her fist in the air. “So what do we need to do?”

Tav’s eyes lit up. “Well, first we have to figure out the menu. Stuffed turkey, and potatoes, and fresh bread—oh, pumpkin pie!”

“Stuffed turkey?” Astarion asked, quirking a silver brow, and Karlach snickered. “Stuffed with what, exactly?”

“Uh, stuffing?” Tav responded, rolling their eyes.

“What is ‘stuffing’?” Gale asked, fighting for his life to not crack a smile.

“Poor wizard, doesn’t know what stuffing is,” Wyll tsked, and the rest of the party burst into laughter.

Tav giggled. “It’s like bread and spices that you stuff—place—into the cavity of the bird before you cook it.”

“Stuffed with bread? Sounds awful,” Karlach wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes.

“It’s delicious! And you baste the breast with gravy and—”

Even Gale couldn’t stifle the roar of laughter that burst from him, and a flush singed Tav’s cheeks.

“Now we’re talking!” Karlach howled gleefully, clutching the infernal engine in her chest as it glowed brighter.

“W-what kind of gravy?” Halsin asked, giggling so hard he could barely get the question out.

“I take it all back. Thanksfucking sounds very interesting,” Astarion waggled his brows at Tav.

“I hate you all,” Tav slumped back against the tree, shaking their head with a chuckle.

“We’ll start with catching the bird, yeah?” Wyll asked, wrestling his expression back into a mask of calm. “Tomorrow morning?”

“Perfect,” Tav grinned, excited for Baldur’s Gate’s First Annual Thanksgiving Celebration.

Tav and Wyll rose just after dawn to set out on their hunt. Tav ordered Karlach and Halsin to collect berries, root vegetables, and whatever else they could forage around the property, and sent Astarion and Shadowheart to shop for items in town.

Gale appeared suddenly before Tav and Wyll left, dressed in freshly laundered robes, his hair clean and pushed back from his face. Achingly handsome, but hardly dressed for a hunt. “Is it alright if I join you?” Gale asked, ignoring Wyll’s eye-roll in favor of Tav’s lingering stare. “I would very much like to get some activity in before such a large meal.”

Tav snickered. “Of course, you’re one of those.”

“One of what?” Gale pestered as they ventured into the woods.

“Nothing, Gale,” Tav teased, shaking their head. There was always one nut that felt the need to run a 5k before Thanksgiving dinner, and of course, it was Gale.

“Come now, Tav,” Gale poked them in the ribs. When they continued to ignore him, he started tickling his long fingers over their side, earning a loud squeal of laughter. “Tell me!”

“Stop it!” Tav yelped, attempting to run from Gale’s gentle assault, but he caught them around the middle and hauled them back into his muscular chest.

“Tell me,” he murmured against their ear, his fingers digging into their hips as a shiver rolled down their spine.

“Enough, you too. We’ll never catch a damn thing with your incessant flirting scaring everything off within a ten mile radius,” Wyll hissed.

“We’re not flirting!” Tav argued, swatting at Gale’s hands.

“Fine, fine,” Gale huffed, releasing you. “Don’t get your gizzards in a twist.”

Tav snorted a laugh and Wyll groaned, trudging further up the path.

It was a gorgeous morning in Baldur’s Gate, sunny with a slight chill in the air, fallen leaves crunching under their boots as they walked. Leaves of every color painted the forest, bright against the cloudless, blue sky. If Tav closed their eyes, it almost felt like home.

Though, at home they didn’t have a handsome wizard at their back, who kept tripping over roots and sticks as he stared up at the trees in wonder.

“Look,” Wyll whispered, drawing their wandering attention. He crouched to the ground, pointing at something along the edge of the path. “Turkey tracks.”

“Does it have to be a turkey?” Gale asked, peering into the trees where the tracks lead. “The turkey is such an ugly beast. Surely we could do something more refined, like a goose or swan.”

“Who the fuck eats swan?” Wyll argued, straightening.

“I”m sure some people do,” Gale argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No!” Tav argued. “It has to be turkey.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” Gale purred, his tone instantly changing, sweet and smooth as summer honey.

Wyll rolled his eyes so hard, his head fell back, horns pointing behind him. “Mizora fucking save me.”

“Come.” Gale cast a spell to illuminate the tracks, revealing a winding path into the forest. “Let us apprehend you your hideous fowl.”

An hour later and they had a massive turkey in tow, Wyll carrying it over his shoulder while Tav and Gale rushed ahead to camp.

Karlach and Halsin had returned as well, with a bucket of wild potatoes, freshly pulled herbs, golden ears of corn, and several baskets of berries. Best of all, Halsin held the biggest, orangest pumpkin Tav had ever seen in his great arms.

Tav squealed with delight. “This is perfect! Thank you!”

Halsin blushed, toeing the ground with his boot. “’Course, Tav. Happy to help.”

“I’ll start a fire!” Karlach said, rushing to the pit at the center of camp.

It seemed everyone was getting into the Thanksgiving spirit, and Tav set them each to different tasks to help prepare the food. Gale was on baking duty, his wizard training and eye for finer details making him a natural at pie crust. Halsin cleaned and prepped the produce, while Wyll plucked and prepped the bird, being sure to leave the pail of blood for Astarion to enjoy later. Tav and Karlach set to put together a table and some chairs.

A while later, Gale was sitting by the fire, diligently supervising his pumpkin pie as it baked in the cast iron over an open flame, and Tav tapped him on the shoulder.

“Would you like to help me find some flowers for the table?” They asked him, an inexplicable flush creeping up their cheeks. It was just friends going to pick some flowers for a nice dinner. Not romantic in the slightest.

Gale jumped up liked they’d asked him if he wanted the elixir of life, nodding his head vigorously. “Lead the way, my fearless, uh, leader!”

Tav smiled and together they walked back into the forest, along the more traveled paths where wildflowers grew.

“Thank you for insisting we celebrate,” Gale said after awhile of walking and picking flowers, breaking the peaceful silence. “I think we all needed a little…distraction.”

Tav smiled, heart warming. “Well, if you hadn’t backed me up, we may not be. So thank you.”

“You said before that it was a celebration of being thankful.” Gale paused, turning to face them, a bundle of dandelions, mum’s, and pink snapdragons clutched in his large hands. “Can it be for anything?”

“Of course it can.” The vulnerability in Gale’s eyes made Tav’s throat close, their heart racing in their chest.

“Then, well, uh, I suppose—” Gale cleared his throat, looking at the ground then back to them. “I suppose I’m quite thankful for you, Tav.”

Tav’s heart leapt, a sweet warmth spreading through them. “I'm thankful for you too, Gale.”

Gale smiled, relief crinkling the corner of his eyes. “Here,” he said, fussing with the flowers in his hands before stepping closer and tucking a dandelion behind Tav’s ear. His hand moved to caress their cheek, admiring the way the yellow complimented their skin. “There we are,” he hummed, brushing a thumb over their cheekbone. “Beautiful.”

“Gale,” Tav murmured, leaning into his palm.

“Hmm?” His eyes lowered to their lips, lingering for a moment before flicking up to their eyes.

“They’ll be waiting for us,” Tav said, even as they began to lean in.

Gale brushed his nose over theirs, sharing labored breaths. “Let them wait.”

“Your pie might burn,” Tav teased, sliding their hand up Gale’s chest, the expensive fabric of his tunic divine under their calloused skin.

“I don’t give a damn if the whole camp burns to the ground.” Gale pressed his lips to Tav’s, as gently as he could manage for fear of startling them, and deep, contented sigh heaved from his chest. Tav fisted his tunic and kissed him back harder, a flame of desire igniting in their belly when Gale obliged, opening his mouth for Tav. They licked inside his mouth, tasting pumpkin and and a few stolen blackberries, so unbelievably sweet, and he let out a low groan.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Gale took charge of the kiss, angling their head to the perfect position for him to delve deeper. He relished in the taste of them, the smell of their skin and the eagerness of their kiss, allowing it all to wash months of uncertainty and doubt away.

The orb hummed in his chest, a lavender light beginning to glow between them, and Gale reluctantly retreated from the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut as he basked in the feeling a moment longer.

Tav’s fingers traced over the mark of the orb on his skin, admiring the way his muscled chest rose and fell under their touch, a slack, slightly dazed expression on his handsome face. “We should get back,” Tav murmured, already formulating a plan for sneaking into his tent later that night.

“Right, of course.” Gale’s eyes finally opened, their color like liquid amber, and he offered an arm to them.

They walked arm and arm back to camp, finding Astarion and Shadowheart had returned. Together, the party toiled away the afternoon cooking, decorating, and drinking, enjoying the mundane domesticity of preparing a meal.

Just before sunset, the turkey was finally finished. Tav and Astarion had spent over an hour assembling and decorating the table, and it sagged under the weight of dozens of plates of food: deep red berry jam, golden loaves of crusty breads, herb-roasted potatoes, succulent and crispy turkey with gravy poured over top.

It was everything Tav imagined, and their heart glowed as everyone took their seats. Gale sat beside Tav, topping up their goblet of wine before they stood to make a toast.

“While the circumstances that brought us together may be less than ideal, there’s no braver band of idiots I’d like to travel Baldur’s Gate with than you all. You have my endless gratitude and admiration for your sacrifices, your hard work, and for indulging my many flights of fancy.” Tav wiped a tear from their cheek, raising their goblet. The others did the same, but before Tav could finish, Gale rose.

“Sorry to interrupt, darling. But I have something I'd like to say." Gale cleared his throat. "There's a kind of magic no spell can bring, and you, Tav, you bring that that magic to our lives every day,” he said, eyes shining with affection. “To Tav!” He declared, wrapping his free arm around their waist and raising his glass with the other.

"To Tav!” The party chorused, aggressively clinking their glasses together so wine sloshed over the table.

They dug into the array of food, trading stories and laughing as the sunset and the stars winked to life, candles illuminating the table and around the camp.

“I quite like this stuffing,” Gale said quietly to Tav, placing another forkful into his mouth. “Perhaps I could show you my personal recipe a bit later?”

Tav nearly choked on their wine, heat scorching their cheeks. “After dessert?” They asked, raising a brow.

“Oh, darling. You are dessert. And I intend to eat my fill.”

“All your terrible flirting is giving me autumn-y ache,” Karlach muttered, trying to hide her smile behind a turkey leg.

“Well, I think it’s a gourd-able,” Shadowheart replied.

“I”m not drunk enough for this,” Wyll grumbled, tipping back his goblet.

“Oh, come now. The meat isn’t the only thing that needs basting,” Astarion teased, and Halsin nearly fell out of his chair from laughing so hard.

“I love it when you talk turkey to me,” Tav murmured to Gale, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

The wizard flushed scarlet and chuckled. “I think Thanksgiving might be my new favorite holiday.”

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving! 🍂༘⋆༄˖°.

Alsoooooo, I'm collecting ideas for some hoilday fics! If you have anything you'd like to see, feel free to leave a note in my asks! You can see everything I write for in my pinned post, and if you have an idea you don't see there, send it anyways!