#gender neutral durge

[meowsgirldrawing]

Prince Astarion vs Princess Anna (BG3)

Prompt: The ragtag gang of tadpole holders saves a princess (daughter of a grand duke) from a miserable fate by some monsters, then decides to help escort her back to her town. Astarion didn’t mind any of this, but after weeks since his and Tav’s exchange of real affections and confessions, he’s not too keen on allowing her fluttering eyelashes and obvious thing for heroes to go on any longer.

Note: Tav is a tiefling in this, because I love tieflings so much, but I'm trying to keep it mostly open so people can imagine their Tav's easier. More or less a little self-indulgent on my part.

Warnings: Little spicy moment, nothing explicit, just Tav and Astarion being in love and maybe a little bitey here and there. 🤷‍♂️Cussing, noble insults, some violence but it's Baldur's gate so nothing new right?

Word Count- 9,948 (I was having fun, alright? Sue me)

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“Let’s save the little princess, they said!”    “It’ll be harmless, they said!”   Astarion bristles, leaned up on the tough wood pole that holds up his tent. The pure white pup beside him pays no attention, his gnawing noisy and breaking the air occasionally with happy whimpers. “I mean really??” He manages to keep his words low-ish, but his hand movement, flaring up in mock dismissal, is rather the opposite. “Who does that little minx think she is?-”   “GO WYLL, GO!” Karlach’s booming voice interrupts him. Loud enough that Scratch finally peers up, tail wagging. Oh so you’ll ignore me but as soon as the big fire lady says one word-   Not that Scratch really needs to listen anymore, Astarion trails off, finally resuming on the scene before him. The scene he was so diligently watching for a few reasons only before his disgust came filtering in.  

Gale steps up, settling in beside Karlach,  “Do we really need to do this?”  “Have a little fun, Gale,” Tav huffs lightly, playfully, as they snatch up another log and set it up in the stump, axe glinting in the sunlight from their hand.  

“Of course we do! Since Tav thought it was oh so wise to comment-“   “It was just a joke, Wyll-“ They try.   “On my “princely-ness” I must show them exactly how prince-like I can be!” His shirtless chest puffs up in confidence, or faux bravo as Tav rolls their eyes and sighs. And that is through a friendly log-chopping competition apparently.   “Tsk’va-“ Lae’zel settles up next to Gale’s side, her eyes focused on the pile beside the two morons. “As long as we get firewood, I don’t care how it’s done.”   Tav nods, grateful “Thank you, sweet Lae’zel. See Gale, it’s harmless my guy!”   Lae’zel does her dismissal words, rolling her eyes. The friendliness form of ‘no problem’ a Githyanki, at least their favorite one, can offer apparently. 

  What? No, the competition is certainly not Astarion’s source of disgust. The sight of a bare chested, years of fighting showing in rippling muscles, Wyll going against their broad-shouldered, built in both structured and height Tav, whose upper half is covered by a mere tank top. That is absolutely not it. If anything, he could sit there all day watching both go at it like morons over a simple joke.  And no, it’s not how he can clearly see the others taking in the sight as well. Gale watches in more amused confusion compared to most, but if you looked harder, his eyes are certainly not straying from either’s form.  Karlach’s tail wags lightly, while her eyes glim with her hearty laugh. Perhaps if she wasn’t already burning up from her engine, she’d probably be visibly burning up in another way. Still, her focus is on Wyll, amused and thoroughly intrigued.

Lae’zel’s possibly the only one who isn’t doing much leering, but she isn’t so innocent. She goes from watching their forms swing down the axes on Tav’s call to being unable to take her eyes off Tav’s arm stretching out for another log. She huffs but does nothing more besides crossing her arms. He can’t blame them, not at all, his Tav alone is a sight to behold. Not to mention their overall friendly and sweet persona that takes no real effort, a gentle giant is what he’s heard multiple times by Shadowheart. Added with Wyll, an admittedly gentleman despite his profession at slaying off monster heads, his demeanor also alone can melt the strongest of hearts.  Pair them together, and you got a nice show to sit back and enjoy. Especially with the banter thrown left and right.   “Ready to give up, Tav? Even by your tail I can tell you’re struggling.” He grins, eyes crickling in mirth.   Tav scoffs, their tail adjusting the log before swinging back to behind them. “Try me, warrior boy. I’m just getting started!”   “Well-” At the next call, both heave up their axes and slit the wood in two. 4 more added to their respective collections. “So am I, my friend!”   Astarion’s lip quirks, but then turns into a full frown as soon as he hears it again.   A high pitched giggle.   A little ways behind the two competitors, there sits a young woman in a fair and fluttery day gown, dark long locks curled over her shoulder, manicured and well cared for hands trail near her full and red lips as she giggles out her response, “You’re doing just amazing, both of you!” But her eyes stay on Tav. His Tav.

  His lip curls, eyes piercing from the other side of the camp. There she is, the little princess he and his group just so happen to come across when dealing the final blows on a goblin camp.   Annalisa, or rather, Lady Annalisa-Daughter and heir of Duke Salton. Who just so happens to be from the town they planned to head to next before her untimely landing into their group.   They had just taken down the last of the slavers; Astarion retching his arrow from his latest kill’s head. He grimaces as he looks over the chip on it’s side. Great now he has to make a new one. He’s all too ready to un-proudly announce his discovery and wills to leave, but an explosion cuts him off. His companions all brace themselves at the sudden arrival of flames. Gale whipping up a new spell, one to counter fire possibly. Lae’zel who didn’t even put her sword away yet, already making her stance beside Tav. Tav slides out their last blade, their other one lost in one of the bodies scattered about them, yet freezes. Tail stiffening up high.

“HELP!”

There, on the cliff side connected to the burning stairway, stands a young woman, arms tied infront of her, a makeshift gag hanging around her sweating throat as she peers down at them with a crazed fear in her eyes. She must’ve been one of the most recent captures, if her ripped and ruffled clothes and tangled hair have anything to show for it. She’s going from them to the burning stairway, “It’s too hot! I can’t make it!” Gale tries to shoot out his spell, but- surprise, it just grows further. Licking up the sides of the cliff she’s on, the woman is tittering back as a scream tears from her throat. Ringing through their ears and into the night sky.

“There must be a source fueling it on the other side.” Lae’zel deducts. “Shit.” Astarion glares at the flames. His mind reeling for ideas.

Before anyone else lets out another word, Tav rushes forward. Their dagger making a mark in the dirt as it lands. Boots thump hard against the earth all while they ignore the calls from their companions. As they get as close to the fire as safely possible, arms fly forward in an improve net.

“Come on! I got you!” “What?!” She gapes at them. “Jump and I’ll catch you!” “But-“ “Theres wooden planks under you, yes?! It won’t be long before that ground is covered too, so jump!” The woman whimpers, tears fueled with fear drip down her cheeks, “I can’t!”

Astarion, from his position amongst the others’, can’t see it but something changes with Tav that has the woman altering aswell. They’re smiling.

With a friendly grin as sweat drips down their forehead, dirt and blood milled on their armor, the Tiefling simply lifts their arms more at her, “I promise you can! I’ll be right here for you!” Something shifts in the woman’s gaze, but she nods, backing up. She’s still shaking. “Y-you’ll…you won’t drop me?” She begs, and it could almost break Astarion’s undead heart. Could…if his heart wasn’t so set on the sight of his lover literally on the edge of flames.

“Of course I won’t!” Tav actually laughs. They have a way of keeping the air light, even in the most heated environments. A skill they use especially now, the gentle giant keeping their expression light and open as they call out to the frightened young lady, “You have my word, I won’t let you go for even a second!”

Another stilling moment. Another moment were Lae’zel almost decides to go up there herself to get the woman off. Another of Gale searching his mind for any fire deucing spell as a backup plan. Another moment of Astarion glancing from the flames to Tav, not liking the lack of distance as flames brew. “Tav-!”

Then she falls. Astarion feels his words lodge in his throat, his yell coming out instead. All as Tav ducks further near the flames, arms awaiting for the impact. Fire licks at their arms as the woman is caught, before swiftly pulling out. They twirl on their heel, yanking both to the arms of safety. Just as another explosion lets off. Immediately covering the area Tav once took.

He knows damn well their resistance to fire is apparent. Still, he’d rather them be afraid of it or wary at the very least than walking into it, arms open. Literally. It didn’t help that as soon as the bindings were off, gag cut from her throat, the woman turned to his lover with the sweetest little smile, “My hero!” She sung.

Lae’zel merely rolled her eyes at it, stashing her sword away. Gale chuckles, an anxious finger scratching at his beard. Tav blinked but soon chuckles, a palm at their neck, “It was nothing.”

Yet the praises kept coming. And to the point were a side of Astarion wished they never even found the practical puppy at their presence. Especially when Tav later got it out of her that she was the daughter of a Duke, having been snatched up in the night, ending up with a bunch of slavers who’d sell her off for some dirty coin. And especially when her hand lingered, cupping their bicep far too long for his liking.   Now…

“HELL YEAH!” Karlach’s engines spur, her excitement fueling Gale’s astonished laugh. Wyll had won.

“Well,” Tav gives a laugh of their own, offering up a handshake. A nice show of good sportsmanship. “Congratulations, my friend, you know how to chop wood faster than I.” Their hands clasp together as both allies grin.

“Oh, don’t beat yourself too hard, pal. I’m sure you have more suitable talents that will show themselves soon enough.” As Tav barks a laugh, giving good ol’ Wyll a pat on the back, one that has him stumbling forward some, Astarion immediately notices movement behind them.   He can’t even get up before Annalisa is running words off her tongue. “That was wonderful, Tav!” Her fingers tangle together, the show of shying as her eyes can’t necessarily stay on Tav too long. If you’re too shy to say one sentence, perhaps you shouldn’t speak at all. “37 logs in an 30 minutes…that m-must be a record of some kind.”

His eyes jump to Tav. Desperately hoping no expression can have his chest squeezing uncomfortably. They smile, cheeky, “Oh you don’t have to save my ego, Anna. I stopped counting by the 12th, I simply wanted to see how much Wyll had in him for such a short time.”   “And yet,” An arm is wrung around their neck, tugging them down a slight. Wyll’s horn knocking into theirs lightly, almost as much as a hip bump, “I still obtained 51. I’d say keep the compliments coming, Lady Anna! This one might need it.” He gently pats their shoulder, as if consoling them.

 At that, Tav’s eyes roll and they’re shoving the Warlock off. Both he and Anna, who once the woman realizes the playfulness, are swept into a small fit of laughter each.

  The camp air is light, a nice break from the overall dampening gore and violence that plagues their days. The scene, seeing his companions tossing banter back and forth, doesn’t exactly feel exclusive for Astarion. He feels fine, watching the others prattle around like children.

His only wish..

For Anna to finally give an extra meter to the feet apart she is from Tav. Like 12 meters, perhaps 15 if he were so lucky.

Or rather simply..or kindly drop dead. Either way satisfies Astarion.

--------------------------------------------   It’s late. Crickets are alive and making their music to the world known. Distant owls coo and stay wary of the fire crackling in the middle of the camp. Or rather it’s people surrounding it.   Wyll and Jaheria have already staggered off to bed, the high moon clear to everyone of it’s dark hours. Halsin too, the druid tired from a long day of happily helping Tav on their village run. They plan to stay one more night before packing up and heading off to the next area, the one where Anna will be promptly dropped off and their next assignment picked up.

The only people left up and about were Shadowheart, Gale, and Lae’zel. For once, the two women aren’t at each other’s throats, simply for the nice reason of Tav and Astarion settled in between their positions. Oh and Karlach’s watchful but friendly eye from her bedroll, chatting easily with Gale over a new spell he’s experimenting with at the moment. She may look lost, tad confused, but whose to say she isn’t interested to some degree. Especially with how hyped up the little wizard, half her size, prides himself joyously.   Astarion huffs, “Did you really have to go on and handle that heinous creature all by yourself??” Ah yes, what the camp lovebirds were up to. He tugs their arm closer, pushing their rolled up sleeve higher. Only to reveal more purple and blue forming at it’s slow-ish pace.

“Halsin was already busy with the herb finding, “ Tav’s eyes nearly roll to the back of their head, “If I didn’t settle the horse down quickly, I’d possibly have more than scrapes and bruising.” “And your response was to go to it’s front and stand in the cross fire of it’s flying, hard hooves?” Shadowheart chimes in, her held tilt making her pause in her fire poking.   “I’ve handled horses before, I knew what I was doing.” They defend again. “Yes, and now you being a moon painting on legs is clear proof of such knowledge.” Astarion drops their arm into one elbow, throwing up the other. His face twisted in clear and loud irritation. “I’m fine, Star,” Their laugh breaks out at the sight. Pulling the arm out and behind his shoulders, they tug him close, “At least they are just bruises-“   “Big, growing bruises as we speak-“   “Bruises, Astarion! It’ll heal in a few weeks from now and I’ll be back to my regular color in no time.” He wants to push further, wants to lecture them until they agree to not even look another horse again. But with their cheek rubbing into his hair, hand trailing on his side in a gentle caress, his argument is faltering. He huffs, ‘attacking’ their arm in a light slap around the wrist. They feign an OW! Chuckling into his white curls.

“I swear, if Halsin comes back again with a report of you being a complete and utter idiot-“  “You know very well it’ll continue, why even threaten them in the first place?” Lae’zel mutters aloud, her steel sharpener giving little shrieks with each slide.   “Well-“   “Hello everyone!” That voice chirps rather loudly from behind. Tav’s grip loosens in a way that has Astarion growling from his throat at two things instead of one. Shadowheart shoots him a look he arrogantly ignores. Tav’s head twists, a smile quirking up on their features. “Hey, Anna!”   The princess beams, cutting around the log the two sit on and coming into everyone’s view. What she has in her hands, or rather platter, has Shadowheart furrowing her brow and lightly tilting her head, “What you do have there, Anna?”

“Drinks! Gale showed me the recipe.” If she wasn’t holding the platter, she’s sure to be fiddling with her fingers. Her head faces downward instead. So shy and sweet. Astarion’s grip on Tav’s waist grows. Enough so that Tav takes their attention of Anna and to their vampire lover, eyes asking ‘are you ok?’ He simply flashes a smirk, waving off their comment and detaching from them. Fast and quick. Like a youngling found out by their parents.

Tav’s concern only grows. Astarion, while fine flaunting their relationship around of the rest of their misfit crew- holding hands as they tred along, pulling them down for a quick peck before splitting off, showing no shame as he walks out of their tent at early sunrise- he’s surely one to tone it down in front of strangers unless he feels reason not to. Like at the festival they recently went to, the one with the druid and her love test, he was proudly holding their palm and strutting along like a newly wed afterwards. It must be that.

Their face tenses a little, concern warping their brow. As much as they want to ask further, wane for an answer, they know it won’t help. Most definitely not while in front of their crew plus Anna. Astarion will always refer to their shared tent if he had a problem, somewhere private and safe. Easy for him to unload whatever plagues him. It must be that. Hopefully, he can talk then.   When Anna isn’t looking, they check and peck his forehead, all before releasing him themselves. He doesn’t react, eyes on Anna.   She passes around the drinks, all merrily and happy as can be. A hum to her lips, eyes crickled and flashing with joy every time someone thanks her for their drinks. Of course Astarion doesn’t miss the lingering fingers against Tav’s as she hands over theirs. He keeps his hiss quiet and nudges closer to their side once she changes course.

She still smiles as she offers up her gifts to Astarion and Lae’zel. To which Lae’zel declines, her palm up as she critically eyes the concoction, “ Is it sweet?” “Of course, I-“ “Then I have no need for it.”

Astarion giggling mind stirs at Anna’s slightly puppy, dejected face, all before being put to a stop by Anna’s switch to him. “Would you like a cup, Astarion?” She flutters sweetly.

He hums, staring at the juice that came from that of an apple. If he has his scents correct.  He lets a smile polite enough to etch on his face, “Apologies, my dear, but fruit isn’t for me. I prefer something with a different type of juice.”

Tav nearly chokes on their latest sip. So does Shadowheart, who giggles rather nervously. Anna, feeling a joke she’s missed out on, doesn’t take it to heart. She tilts her head but accepts his decline with a light expression.

Gale immediately recognizes the flavor as it hits his tongue, awing in gratitude, “Oh, Anna! This is amazing! It hits the nerves just right.” She bows her thanks, “Thank you, Gale, where had you learn this recipe anyway? I found it the most fun to experiment my brewing skills with!” “My mother,” He says as proudly as he always mentions her, “After spells and incantations, my mother made and taught me such wonderful recipes the Dekarios family has been passing down from generation to generation.”

“Well, remind me to give my additional thanks to Momma Dekarios, this is awesome, Anna!” Karlach as always, is loud in her approval. She swallows down a gulp, licking up the excess as a hearty smile dawns her face.

---------------------------------------- “If you don’t mind my asking….how’s Tav?”   It’s about time the fire is put out and people retreating into their tents for the long day tomorrow. Gale pauses in his storing, leftover porridge poured into a sealable bowl for another time. Shadowheart too, her bedroll under her arm and a second one, for Anna, on the ground next to her. “How’s Tav? As in health or character?” Gale can’t recall anything odd about Tav. They finished their fill and left a little soon after, yawing out a goodnight as Anna left for a moment. Of course with the oh so friendly vampire of the group not too far from following suit.

Kalach did the same after another fill of the juice Anna shared before heading off to her bedroll. Anna blinks, “Oh, character! I’m sorry, I’m merely curious as I seem to know only one side while everyone else is more or less open in comparison.”

Ah that’s true. As open as a listening Tav is, their stories and dreams aren’t shared as much amongst the group. They only want to focus on others, not themselves. Shadowheart, with a knowing chuckle accompanying, tells Anna such. “Don’t take it personally, Tav has always been that way. It’s rare to see any drastic difference.” To be fair, they can’t seem to remember half their life story, amnesia being a killer on their soul.

Gale nods along, “But what we do know is they have a good heart despite it, always willing to help, even if they could loose limb or life along with way.” “They are also such a jokester, don’t forget,” The bedroll spreads, palms finding rocks and nicks in the dirt and pulling them out from beneath, “Gods only know how that mind works for the especially stupidest ones.” Anna giggles, taking the last of the supplies from Gale. Who smiles in thanks. “Oh really? Well, I did get a hint of that with Wyll that one time.”   Gale’s head tips back, long tangles waving down, as he groans out, “Oh they have been much worse from that.”   Anna hums, eyes thinking, “So…uhm…is Tav perhaps..single?”   That, not Gale’s ice spell for the cooking fire, freezes them. They share a look and glance back to a fidgeting Anna. Did she not see Tav and- A wince pulls on Gale’s face, apologetic almost,“Anna-“ You gotta give it to him, he tries.   “I’m sorry!” Her hands fly, “I’m sure they have a different life behind this whole journey you are all gathered for, but I simply can’t help but ask! They seem so sweet and noble, not to mention so handsome and beautiful! I couldn’t help but become curious.” Her cheeks are aflush, bright red upon fair skin.

Yet they can’t get an answer out. Gale flushes, remembering all the times he’s accidentally stumbled upon a sneaky Astarion and flustered Tav in his search for privacy in the woods, all to the point he thinks some are purposeful. Shadowheart feels the same. The tadpole isn’t active, but she still ends up in the same predicament. Flashes of glimpsing at their tangled hands as the two converse at the back, shared pecks (mostly Tav to Astarion) when they think no one is paying any attention, lovey-dovey shit that can make anyone, relationship or not, feel as single as a tree in baren woodlands. “Anna-“ Gale tries again.

Anna cuts him off again, “You know what, I’m too tired, that’s it! Let’s forget this ever occurred, please!” She winds up snatching up her bedroll from a grimacing Shadowheart, tucking tail and fluttering off with a short but rushed, “Good night, my friends!” over her shoulder.   At the silence that follows, the two left behind blink at one another. “Oh..Astarion is going to loose it.” Shadowheart clicks her tongue. Remembering all the times Astarion smirks as Tav’s attention flies to him instead of anyone else, Gale can’t help but agree wholeheartedly.

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“Excuse me?” The hiss hits Gale hard enough that he’s no longer wondering why Shadowheart left the idea up to him. His fingers trail up to rub his forehead, he feels Astarion boring into him, red eyes pinched in a sneer.   “She merely asked a question-“   “Yes, a simple and innocent question on if MY lover was single or not.”   “I tried to tell her no!” He whisper-shouts back, eyes drawing up to meet his. “She flew off like a scared squirrel before either of us could tell her such!” So much for being a good friend and trying to warn Astarion ahead of time. Ugh..he should have went to Tav themselves instead. They’d at least wouldn’t keep interrupting him. “Look, I’m not one to go about messing with anyone’s relationships, but I think the best thing is talking to either Tav or Miss Anna or both.” He waves his hand around, “Clear the air so they say.”   “You’re right, surprisingly.” Astarion blinks. Gale pauses, still walking beside him. Is he actually going to- “You aren’t one to go about messing with relationships, at least until after you get it through that oddly shape skull of yours that it isn’t your place.” And that’s how the small spark of hope of Astarion’s redemption arc died in Gale’s heart. His shoulders lower in his defeat. But perk right back up as a palm slaps on his and another onto Astarion’s shoulders. “What we talkin’ about?” A sharp whisper fills his ears. Astarion jerks, Gale just about yelps out his soul. Both turn, meeting dark eyes of their favorite baalspawn of the group. They grin, eyes hooded, “What? You boys kept whispering a little too much, Tav asked me to check on ya’ll!”

“Durge!” Astarion, once again, hisses with their common nickname, “Did you really have to sneak up on us?”   “You’re a rouge..” They blink slowly, diligently, as if the concept should be obvious to all, young and old, “You didn’t think to keep an eye on your own purse?”   “I think you meant to say back.” Gale’s head tilts. Astarion’s hands start wandering around, patting his sides.   “Nope.” Astarion confirms the opposite, a grumble falling as his gaze clicks upwards. The well flourish decorated pack goes bouncing from the little rope that secures it as it hangs from their grasp. Their lip bit in their covered chuckle.

The bag is snatched, Astarion stuffing it as deep as it can go in his pocket, stink eye glaring down at the thief in front of him. Gale picks at his brow, rubbing as he groans. “Durge…” “Yes, handsome?” They purr, turning to him with the biggest look of innocence that Astarion has ever seen. Hands clutched behind their back, head leaning sweetly, eyes fluttering.   “It’s not rather becoming to eavesdrop…” His eyes do that weird softening as he says that. Mystra, then Tav, then them? No wonder the man has the oddest relationship with romance. Astarion feeling his eyes draw to the back of his head nearly with how hard he rolls them. Maybe he goes any farther, he can see that tadpole that gotten him in this mess in the first place.  The idea then turns a tad too grotest for his liking so he stops with mute boredom. 

“Hey!” They start, “I told ya, Tav asked me to check on ya.” Gale fixes them with a look.

“Anyhow!” They send one right back, no hesitation. However, it isn’t hard to see the twinkle of fondness they share. Astarion feels his eyes about to roll a second time. “Wanna spill?” They wink.

Gale looks at Astarion. He boredly blinks back. He takes that as the equivalent of ‘go ahead’ as he huffs. “Anna’s been showing a rather kindly interest in Tav as of late, yet doesn’t seem to get the hint that Tav and Astarion are…a thing?” He looks at Astarion again, edging the last words carefully.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Ohhhh.” Durge walks in stride with them. Their eyes squinting ahead at Anna talking animatedly with Tav. Hands parading about in some clear story, Tav’s fluffed shoulders bouncing in presumed chuckles. If they look hard enough, focusing really good, they barely see the red that fits her cheeks. And they don’t seem to be from the sun at all, hells, it’s chilly more than anything this odd morning.

“So that’s a thing.” Such drama in this camp. Their giggling mind can’t get enough. “So what are ya gonna do about it?” The question is for Astarion pointedly, but their glance at Gale keeps the conversation opened. “I was just telling Astarion that he should speak with Tav about it, maybe drop it in casually or say he’s just noticed things here and there.” He too looks at Astarion pointedly. “I think it’s the best thing to do when you notice someone’s throwing heart eyes at one’s lover.”

“And I think that if it’s how you say, my relationship, I should handle it my way!” 

Gale’s jaw drops, about to defend his statement with ever breath he has, but the arm looping around his shoulder chokes those words up. His breath freezes in hit throat as Durge yanks him closer to them, easy smirk meeting his confused gaze. It promptly drops the moment heat meets his skin, burning his face red. 

Durge throws an eyebrow his way, grin growing, then focuses on the vampire glaring intensely at the back of Tav and Anna’s skulls. His eyes darting down the moment Tav seems to glance over their shoulder. “Alright then.” Durge shrugs, whistling their contempt. “Keep it and store it in until little miss princess figures out the same way you got Tav to bend over backwards for your wayward soul.”

Gale pales. ‘What are you doing??’ His whispers a harsh breath on Durge’s ear. The Baalspawn looks nothing close to uncomfortable, they only grin at Gale. ‘Don’t worry about it, handsome, just focus on our little magic date later, k?’

That clamps the wizard up. “Way-Wayward soul??” Astarion squeaks. His glare intensifies onto Durge. It’s then a bubble of laughter, nothing of joy, all full of sarcasm-Gale and Durge exchange a look- spills from his lips. 

He scoffs, “I’m just going to ignore that comment, please and thank you, and besides that, I highly doubt some daddy’s little brat stain will be able to get through, and while I adore them so, Tav’s platonically-stricken head.” His hand flies up and places delicately over his chest, claws out. “I hate to announce it to the class but it took me explaining the basic idea of sex for Tav to understand what I wanted from them at the Tiefling party!” 

Before Gale or Durge could go on any further, or Durge just encourage Astarion’s sass fess, the spawn turns heels and marches to the front. He sends the last comment in a hiss over his shoulder, “Like that butterfly flapping, pampered parasite would even try it anyway if I have anything to say about it!”

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He thought the privileged princess wouldn’t try anything. Afterall, she sounded like a blushing virgin at the mere thought Tav knew what plagued her as she attempted in asking Gale and Shadowheart, at least by what Gale told him.  But…he should've realized something.

If he can go thinking he easily seduce their unofficial leader with batting eyes and whispered promises with no issue, only to get turned on his metaphorical side and end up in the first committed, healthiest relationship he’s had in over 200 years by accident- then he should’ve realized all things don’t go as planned.

And by that he means that Anna definitely didn’t act a blushy nun, keeping her feelings locked up safe from the world, she decided to do the rather opposite.

Any chance she got, she was trying to either stay by Tav’s side or help them out around camp. Even going as far as to interrupt some conversations with their companions, mainly Shadowheart- suppose she saw how the two bonded over loss of childhood memory and supporting each other in most arguments amongst the group- enough so that it took Lae’zel directly ignoring her input as she was talking to Tav. Oh and doing it again one time because Tav was late for their planned training. 

Yeah, he remembers snickering on the side with a not so quiet Durge as the half-twit fumed red in the background, all the while their astral-dwelling companion grabbed Tav by the collar and dragged the poor, apologizing sheepishly tiefling double her size to their usual area.

At least he got a chance to ‘soothe’ Tav’s bruises that night, tent flap tied up tight.

She isn’t the fighting type at all, so surprising for Astarion-Gods!- so the only time Astarion got Tav to ‘himself’ was when picked to go out.

And even that got limited!

The crew recently found a mining crew in need of muscles to get their buddies out of an explosion gone wrong, amongst other things, so they’ve yet to move their camp for the last few days as Tav took Karlach, Gale, and Shadowheart out to help. They would’ve brought Halsin too, possibly to help with the healing bits they are sure to come across, if not for the warnings of the mining crew about sightings of a creature wandering around too.

So yeah. Tensions be high. And higher for the two who unknowingly/knowingly pine for the same sweet leader of their stitched together group.

Astarion’s been pointedly ignoring Anna during the day, immediately retiring to his tent the moment Tav’s safe and sound. And the others too he supposes.

Thankfully everyone has enough sense to not pry the vampire about it, merely giving him glances or odd looks whenever he excuses himself from anything Anna wants to talk to him about. Save for Lae’zel who honestly could care less about brewing drama afoot in the camp and fills the silence by sharpening or training just about all day. 

After yet another failed attempt by Anna in her new request to speak to Astarion privately, he once again guesses wrong in thinking she finally stopped, finally got the point he wants nothing to do with a prancing bird, parading around his lover day in and out.

Imagine the dear’s surprise that first thing he walks into in the morning is seeing Anna waiting outside his tent, fidgeting and picking at a small sack in her hands. His eyes dart to Tav, the teifling wrapping a conversation up with Halsin it seem, sack thrown over their shoulder with a casual grip.  Seems Anna won’t be putting on fluttering eyes and sweet smiles for Tav today. 

“Astarion!” She perks up immediately as the man slips from his tent. Face immediately fitting into place with a light smirk and narrowed eyes. 

“Lady Annastasia, and to what do I owe the pleasure to?” He stands straighter, arms folding lightly. 

She bites her inner cheek, “Oh nothing big, I merely need to ask a question of sorts.”

“Ah I see.” His head tilts, studying her. Going up and down. She sways in place, as if nerves are biting at each angle of her sides. “ Is it wrong to assume it’s about our Tav?”

As he expected, she blinks wide at him, freezing in place. Her eyes dart from him to the taller hero who just made their way to their three traveling buddies for the last day at the mines. Tav told him as he curled in their lap, getting his fill in as they carded their fingers through his locks last night. He didn’t mind their rambles as he ate, if anything, started to encourage it as of late.  Doesn’t have anything to do with their absence of voice filtering around his tent, oh no.

Anna’s voice can’t help but come out as a waver. “Is…Is it that obvious?”

Admittedly, Astarion lets the sympathy slide through, “As obvious as  a little puppy longing for it’s owner?” He makes that gentle hissing sound through his teeth, “I’m afraid so, darling.”

She visibly drops, a pout pulling. “Oh.”

“But not to worry, my dear, Tav isn’t the brightest tool in the shed when it comes to romance, so I think you’re safe.” For now. He wants to add. “As a rogue, these things are quite easy to catch amongst other things.”

She nods, agreeing with him as a small bout of hope pools her eyes once more. She blinks up at him, a gentle smile relaxing her features. “If so, I still want to ask my request of you! If you don’t mind, of course.”

Why the hells should I? 

“Of course, whatever the Lady desires!” He says instead. 

She begins speaking her request to him and he listens for a bit till he realizes she’s close to telling her life story as she rambles. So his ears do the most rational thing and begins drowning her out, getting only bits and pieces, enough to be able to nod or agree without seemingly ignoring her.

All the while, Tav stands at the edge of camp, close enough for them to catch his eye with little exaggeration. To others, they may look fresh and bushy tailed, ready for another adventure. To him, they look exhausted. Without even being near them a whole lot, he knows right away they’ve been restless the past few days. 

Call him silly, but they can’t help but remind him of a giant puppy in a way. Always eager to please him, always looking forward to talking with him or following him around, even while he’s doing the following most days. They miss him. 

Despite the non-angsty but hollow look in their eyes, he kept help the slight, odd satisfaction on knowing he’s the only one able to make that happy unintentionally. 

They smile, grim and tired wrinkles around their corners. 

He smiles back, Anna thinking he’s still listening throughout. 

Tav does a quick, funny look around, as if trying to make him laugh, which he has to stop himself with a clearing of his throat, before bringing up their hands in an overall cliche heart symbol. Someone could see it and they don’t care. 

He keeps himself from acting any stranger in front of Anna. For the few times too many, he’s glad he can’t physically blush in front of others. 

With that, Tav wanders over to their group and begin their last day to the mines.

“-I know you’re close with, so I was hoping to get your opinion of this gift I bought them?”

Astarion blinks out of his little dream world of pink clouds and sweet nothings, and comes back to the ever nervous Anna in front of him. 

“Oh right! Yes, I’m sure whatever it is, they’ll adore it.” 

Anna beams and takes no time to pull out a silver necklace. Red gems, rubies possibly line the chain in small drops. It’s beautiful. Clearly carefully crafted and made for the loveliest lads or ladies.

Astarion makes his stand back as subtle as possible.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” She raises it high, thankfully close to her. “I saw it in town with Durge the other day and couldn’t help but snatch it right up!”

“Terribly sweet.” He marks. Winces carefully hidden.

“Yeah! It could also help with their little ‘problem’.”

Astarion perks at that. Ears winding. 

‘Huh?’

Questions on his face must be evident cause Anna immediately jumps to an explanation.

“Oh, I’ve noticed these odd markings or rather…” She looks left and right, leaning in just a slight. As if whatever she says would bring panic to all around them. 

“...Bites!” 

He blinks, again. 

“I understand if Tav has some…arrangement with someone of the night, but I worry for them!” Her eyes fill with an emotion he’s seen way to many times. Pity and anger. 

“Vampires are..vile, dangerous things! The vampire that Tav lets them feed from must be seducing them, using them a mere cattle!”

Tav said something to him once about comments they get as a tiefling. How they obviously look like devils but the real insult is being compared to livestock. Namely bulls or..

“Cattle?”

Something sparks in him. The whispers he had when he first met Tav and their small group of Shadowheart and Gale begin again. 

Anna nods dutifully. Almost sadly. He hides the grit in his teeth as his claws scream at him to rip that nod clean off. 

“I feel this necklace could help them scare whoever it is off, yes?” Then her expression shifts, eyes turning downward in that shy act once more. No, coy.

“I just think it’s best for them, you know?”

THATS NOT YOUR FUCKING CHOICE TO-

“Of course! Such wretched creatures need to be purged from this world!” He may be playing it off a little too much. He adds in a wiping motion, swift and able to startle Anna. But she looks at him with big, woefully hopeful eyes and he knows he has her.

A feeling he welcomes greatly, especially in this moment as anger shakes his very soul, comes to play. It claps it’s hands, plays it’s tunes, drafting it’s first idea with gleaming eyes full of mirth.

He keeps it hidden with a gentle smile, dare he say gentlemanly. So charming he’s sure Anna would’ve been swooning if not for Tav.

“I suggest giving it to them tonight, my dear.” He wraps a friendly hand over hers, ignoring the light sting he feels from one of the dangling bits passing through her fingers and onto his. “Afterall, with how much Tav has been working tirelessly with this whole mining business, who’s to say that fiend won’t be lurking about when embers cool? They’ll be too tired from the mind to be able to have their guard up, this might just be their savior.”

Anna makes Astarion realize something new as she giggles, feeling suddenly heroic for her idea as she agrees fully to his idea. 

She’s the biggest fucking idiot he’s ever met. And he’s met plenty.

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

Lurking he does. 

The moment Tav says their farewells to their companions, treading to their tent in wavering steps and light winces. Body full of a long recent days that guarantees how their next morning will go.  Resting and allowing their body to recuperate, hopefully with a certain cold lover at their side. Oh how they’ve missed such a face, such a presence bursting with sassy jokes and dreadful touches. 

Its no surprise how fast their tail starts swinging left and right the moment they hear the flaps of their tent open, pulling their tank down with no real speed. 

They turn and see him in all his awaiting glory. His crimson eyes lure from up to down, taking in their freshly washed appearance. 

“Long day?”

“The longest.” Their body sags. 

Astarion tuts, pulling the most pitiful, sympathetic pout only a mother could give. “Oh you poor thing. A guess saving a loud, smelly bunch of miners is a big killer on the whole heroic motive, yes?”

“Wish I could agree with you, lovely.” Their lip quirks, “Still into the heroic image, unfortunately.” “Pity. Thought I could finally pull you into the dark side of things.” He moves closer, grabbing the towel from their neck and begins dabbing the remaining drops on their collar. “You know, evil laugh, lunatic planning, leather galore and dark lairs, all the sorts.”

“You know…” It’s now they can pick up his, and he hates when they say it, perfume he keeps refilled. The smallest luxury behind the many books he tends to the most. It’s not strong, subtle enough for the allspire bit to mix in surprisingly well with the woodland essence they must be all drowned in by now. “I might be persuaded a bit?”

His eyes slide to theirs. Cheeks making them squint with his smirk. “Oh?” His head tilts. “And with what exactly?”

“Blame the miners actually, but perhaps this ‘hero’” Their hands prick quotation marks, he snickers, “wants a little time with their favorite little villain.”

“Little?!” He grabs the towel in a firmer hold, swatting them on the arm. All gentle, no worries.

“Astarion, I’m nearly as tall as Halsin and taller than Karlach.” Their words deadpan, tone full of underlining giggles.

His fangs show and he wastes no time in pulling them to the bed on the side. “ It doesn’t matter, my dear! I will not be resorted to such words like ‘little’!” 

“Then why are you getting on my lap?” They ask as he indeed does so, huffy as he goes.

“Shut it, now.”

“Whatever his majesty desires.” His hand covers their mouth, eyes glaring. Their palms face up in a surrender. 

“I will do what I desire..” His arms curl around their neck, nose nuzzling into theirs. Tav began doing that at one point when he was still getting used to the intimate but nonsexual shows of affection. A quick nuzzle when one of them felt off and they immediately perk up as if the action itself forced new energy into them.

He feels arms close around his waist, low enough to not touch his back scars directly but also not too low to suggest anything past cuddling. He huffs at their tenderness, patting their arm to tell them what he wants.

They curl tighter in response. They appear to have needed that cause in mere moments, they go from tight body and straightened back to relaxed and curling into his front.

A long breath escaping. 

Astarion purses his lips, ducking into their neck. 

“Are you alright?” His whisper soft.

Their shoulders lift and fall back as if that took alot of effort in itself. “Tired.” They’re knowledgeable about the horns as they nudge further into his collar, “And missed you. ‘M sorry for not bringing ya. It was really dark and cramped and I just didn’t-”

“Hey-” He’s quick, finger flicking under the chin and pulling up. “What did we say about unnecessary apologies? I believe they were your own words, love?”

“They are unnecessary, therefore we don’t need to say them.”

“Exactly!” His finger boops their nose. The silly act making them smile onces again. It’s tired but happy so he’s happy. “Wow, you are so wise! Perhaps Gale needs to watch his tracks.”

“Pft- Nah. I like swords more.” Their head shakes as laughter spills.

“More things for us to bond over, I suppose.”

“You like daggers more.”

“A blade is still a blade. Doesn’t matter how long.”

Their eyebrow pricks. “Why do I sense an innuendo?”

“Perhaps you’ve just been in that mindless gutter far too long.”

“Eh.” Their forehead knocks back into his chest. A slither around his thigh and a touch from his fingertips confirms the scaly tail. “Maybe.” It begins wagging as he curls a palm around it, thumb rubbing circles in the side, before letting it do it’s clinging thing.

It’s late. And he’s sure Anna will show soon. And as according to his plan, Tav stays locked in his arms in such a way that would be impossible for even the most idiotic of idiots to mistake it for platonic.  Especially when they’ve just begun trailing kisses up his neck. Soft and delicate. Going from his collar, to his adams apple, to the edge just under his sensitive ear. 

His arms tighten, claws digging into the tank top underneath them.  “Tav-”

They pause, pulling away a bit and a side of him whines at the loss in milliseconds. Before, he would have pulled a pity party at himself for having such an inward reaction, being made into mush just over a few kisses.  But the other side of him now? HA, he’s more concerned over that look in their eye. Thinking they’ve done something wrong. Their grip loosens too and he knows he needs to stop that.

His arm unhooks from their neck and grabs their forearm.  “Don’t. I just wanted to ask you something?”

They blink and tilt their head. All ears as he would say. 

A thought plagues his mind. He knows it’s really silly but…Something about what Anna says kept replaying in his mind all day. No idea why, he already knows the answer to what he wants to ask but..

“What is it, Astarion?” They frown lightly up at him.

His legs under his thighs, pressed against theirs, shift as he works through his question. With them waiting all patiently of course.

“I understand if Tav has some…arrangement with someone of the night, but I worry for them!”

“Im used to comments of how damn devilish I look, literally. Not figureativ- stop with that look, Astarion. And I guess it’s not the worse but..cows or cattle gotta be a real ego destroyer.”

“Vampires are..vile, dangerous things! The vampire that Tav lets them feed from must be seducing them, using them a mere cattle!”

“Do you feel weird when I feed from you?” He blurts.

Their stare is loud. Looking all over his face as if he’s mere seconds from breaking into laughter, playing up into a joke.

When that doesn’t happen, they stay silent a moment longer. 

“..No?” They glance around, thinking, “Should I?”

“I just-” He inhales, a burst of dustration bubbling up, He’s not a feelings person but he wants to try. Tav’s always telling him to talk if he’s worried about something. Might as well get used to it now. “I know our circumstances were an agreement of sorts but..I suppose.” His eyes dart down. A wave of vulnerability washing over him.

“I suppose I’ve been overthinking and…and can’t quite seem to get it out of my head.”

“Are you asking about side effects or ‘feelings’ feelings?” They try to match his gaze.

“..The latter.”

Tav hums, tugging him closer. 

They’re a planner. Always have been, might always will be despite this fucked up situation they might be in. Unconsciously, maybe that’s why if anyone in this group were to be asked who the leader is, even durge who likes doing their own thing, everyone would point to Tav.

Thus, he gets an immediate idea as why they ask if he trusts them enough to pull them to the bed. With him under them. He shrugs but after a look, says his consent with a roll of his eyes.

Pulling him down, they make sure he’s absolutely comfortable amongst the silk pillows and fur blankets before wrapping themself over him. Legs straddle their hips, arms playing boredly at their neck, and he can once again feel their tail tapping on his thigh, all before wrapping around it in a soft cage.

They smile at his questioning gaze, assuring him they won’t try anything funny without his explicit consent, all before leaning into his neck for a kiss. 

He stops the yelp in his throat. They’re right on the mark, teasing the sensitive skin from earlier. Their chest vibrates with their chuckle, end of the tail wagging. 

 “It’s ok, lovely. I won’t do anything more than this.” Lips murmur as they trail up his neck again, going to the other side. 

His legs jerk, wrapping around their waist just they hit his ears again.  His teeth grit, “You’re doing- doing this on..p-purpose!” he accuses. Another kiss lands at his lobe, canines only a tiefling could have probing it’s edge, “T-trying to distract me from my question??”

Was it that silly they would ignore it outright?

Before any odd feeling could come in place of his non-beating chest, their arms circle his waist, pulling their bodies closer. Making a tangled mess of the shorter elf and tall tiefling. 

“On purpose? Mm, Maybe.” They nip the skin just above his scar, not directly on it. A part, deep and nervous, but somehow longing more, whines for a little lower. “But I wanna prove a point.”

“What point?” A hiss escapes and his claws dig crescent moons into their shirt again. They pause in making a mess out of the man beneath them, pulling away and meeting his hooded gaze with a soft look. So soft and uncensored for it’s immediate openness he nearly stops from trying to catch his breath.

“That I want this too.”

Then they drag their head back down again and he’s back to drowning.

“I want you satisfied. I want you happy.” They lick a small line up and his unlatches from the fabric to catch his moan. “Want you laughing, teasing, sharing feelings, and when you need to” Their words stop as they get a little into it, tightening their hold and suckling a small bit into one spot. He just about bites his tongue when a squeak wants to make itself known, nearly tearing a new hole into the shirt as he stops himself from jerking up and more into their hold. Not that he could move much if he wanted to. They keep a safe hold on him. As if they knew how he’d react. 

He curses and bites back a groan from that.

They let go and lick their lip. “I want you to feed.”

“Cheeky devil!”

“I thought you adored that?” They chuckle in his face, nuzzling into his neck immediately afterwards. 

His hand swats their back.

They keep on chuckling, and they keep on their attack on his neck. 

He lets them, despite all the clawing into their shoulders, leaving marks that make it look as if they lost a fight to a feral cat, occasional tightening and shaking of his legs on their hips, groaning and small whimpering melting into their neck. He holds them tight against him, letting them show how much they want him, Astarion, their little, sassy, vampire elf. Bites and all.

His eyes open from their clenched state the moment his ears pick up something. They twitch but Tav’s too busy on one particular spot on his neck vein to notice. 

Crimson eyes land on the figure at the tend opening. The same one who clutches the horrid necklace in one hand and clenches the tent cover in a tight fist with the other. Dark eyes staring on the curled up form looming over Astarion, tail wagging furiously as if they’re getting the bestest damn treat in existence.

Anna. The doe eyed little princess they picked up on their journey. The same one who doesn’t look at them with the same little doe eyed expression she’s been throwing left and right since they’ve saved her. They scorn with a glaring envy Astarion has been all too familiar with since she arrived and made moves on his lover. 

Speaking of which….

He looks her straight dead in the eye as Tav makes a new mark into his pale skin, curling his fingers deep into their tank as he lets his jaw drop and hang to a loud groan that filters the tent. The corner of his lip curled at her immediate response.

She stiffins. Eyes pooling. Pooling with all he's felt every single time she rested a delicate hand on Tav's arms. The same ones that wrap around him and have become the first nearly-safest place since his escape.

The same feeling he got every single time she looked up into Tav's unknowing gaze with huge hearts for pupils. The same person that looks over every moment he opens up, makes a joke, or even gets just the tiniest bit about a book they got for him simply because they heard his low comment about it. 

Only he isn't the one mourning some fairytale. Not anymore. His relationship with Tav might not be one he could only imagine every cold and sickly night in Cazador's reign, but gives the same exact feeling he's always looked for underneath and that's plenty enough for him. 

A sharp prick at his neck and he's letting out a louder moan than the previous, hand curling around their bicep as they adjust to get even further into him. A hand snakes up to his head and when the thumb brushes his ear, he gets closer to loosing it again. 

Perhaps he should've warned her. Tell her who was really making Tav happy every night and day. Save her from inevitable heartbreak of her wanton fairytale image being shattered. And he was planning to the moment she showed up to his tent this morning. Yet…

“Vampires are..vile, dangerous things! The vampire that Tav lets them feed from must be seducing them, using them a mere cattle!”

His eyes dart to Tav’s neck, recently healed sometime today. 

He believes a mark of their own should be the best for them.

He wastes no longer in letting his fangs show, shining fleetingly in the tent's handing lamp, and pledging them into Tav’s neck. Eye slamming close the second iron hits his taste buds.

He hears a gasp but it gets drowned out by Tav’s grunt turned moan. Hugging him tighter. He drinks like every night, but maybe a tad less than usual. They really did have a long day after all. 

Blood drips down his lip, onto his chin as he pulls back and looks at the entrance. 

Gone. The girl ran off. 

Good. More time to reconnect with his dear again, and in the best ways possible too.

A laugh escapes him as they tickle his side for the surprise, turning to end in another moan as they get to his under chin now.

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

Bonus:

“That’s odd, Anna doesn’t seem like she wants to speak to me anymore.” Tav mentions as they wonder back into their tent the next morning, finished with their morning check in it seems, “In fact, she’s asking how long until we get to her home town.” 

Astarion hums ‘thoughtfully’, reclined and the almost relax on their bed. The only thing he wears is one of their shirts, loosely buttoned together and opened up enough to let the world see exactly how far their little ‘time’ went last night, plus some shorts he’s left from time to time in there. They actually didn’t get farther than leaving a trail down his chest and him, many marking bites around their shoulders and collar (those he can see clearly with the spare button up half heartedly put together) but it leaves enough for anyone to assume and like hells he’s gonna correct anyone if they did. “I did find this though.”

He glances up from his book, page carefully marked so as to not lose it. It’s getting rather good. It may be some silly romance genre Tav found for him, but it’s Tav. Why wouldn’t he indulge a little outside his usual?

“Oh, a necklace.”

“Yeah, silver and honestly extremely eye-catching. Not something I’d wear however.”

Oh yeah, he forgot. Tav likes the less complicated jewelry. Think of single chain or lonely gems in the center type. Says it makes it easier to wear under the pelted heat and armor.  Ironic he supposes.

“I mean silver? Really? When I have a vampire for a lover?” Their head shakes and they stuff it in the ‘to sell’ bag. 

His ear perks up, “What does my state of being relate to your choice of jewelry?”

Their stare into him offended him slightly. As if they are questioning his very wits. 

“Lovely, unless my reading is fucked, vampires are basically allergic to silver.” They state, a small deadpanning in their tone.

…Wait, they read about vampires….for him?

Something stirs in his chest, the same feeling from last night as he blanks at them. 

“....Get your ass over here right now darling and kiss me.”

Their tail shoots up, expression thrown back, but soon a grin grows, canines begin flashing and demonic eyes sparking. “Oh like you have to ask me twice!” They laugh.

—----------------------- “Should I tell you who tried to give you the necklace by the way?”

“Huh? Oh, sure, lovely.”

“You know our dear Anna, yes?”

“Yeah…I just told you how she keeps ignoring-...”

“....”

“Did she know about the silver?”

“Yes, very much so in fact.”

“Was she at the tent last night?”

“Possibly-maybe.”

"........."

"............"

“....She leaves tomorrow.”

“ :)”

[dragonsfictavern]

In The Wind 

Astarion Ancunin X Reader

a/n: This came to mind specifically because of the scene in 2005 Pride and Prejudice where Bingley is trailing after Jane and touching the ribbon on her dress. So keep that in mind bc it haunts me in the best way

summary: After your tunic gets torn in battle, you and Astarion head to a shop to get materials to get it fixed. Astarion, trapped in thoughts surrounding you, decides to do something to properly show his appreciation

word count: 2k

The day was cool, the breeze blowing through the opened door of the fabric store you and Astarion currently walked through. The others were Gods knew where but Astarion didn’t particularly care where they were. His thoughts were on you. More and more he found that his thoughts always came back to you.

Baldur’s Gate was loud. It has always been loud. Something Astarion remembered specifically. But he found the sound drained out as he stared down at a beautiful ribbon. At first he couldn’t exactly say what about it had caught his attention. What kept it. But upon reflection he noted how it reminded him of your eyes.

Cursing himself under his breath, Astarion threw down the ribbon and glanced away from the pile of fabrics. But just as his eyes lifted from the box, they fell right onto you. You who stood right in the sunlight, whose hair flowed through the wind that passed through the store.

He couldn’t look away from you, once again not really believing that you somehow cared about him. You were so… good. It was honestly almost nauseating. But it was also something he admired about you. It made him want to be better. To be better than what he was before. Most importantly for him. But he couldn’t deny he also wanted to be better for you. To be someone you could be proud to love.

Astarion walked around one of the makeshift aisles of the store. You were busy as you looked over some of the patches of fabric while Astarion was busy as he watched you. He didn’t blame you for not having noticed his stare. You were on a mission after all. Your tunic had been badly torn in your party’s last battle. The tear could easily be mended by you and the enchantments on it could be replaced by Gale if he was going to actually be helpful today.

But Astarion knew you weren’t the most gifted tailor. At least, not better than him. He could do a fine job, he’d been doing it with his own clothing for longer than he’d care to admit. A rare warmth spread through his chest as the idea came to him. When you least expected it, he’d take the fabric from you and fix your tunic before you even noticed it would be missing.

Something in him told him he just had to do this. To show you he cared, at least enough to do something as little at this… and to show you that you weren’t making a mistake as you stuck by him. Astarion closed his eyes as he shook out those unwanted thoughts. Not wanting to think about any of that or what it meant.

When Astarion opened his eyes he’s met with you walking away, a long piece of fabric hanging from your belt. A brief shot of panic ran through Astarion as you walked away, only deeper into the store to pay for fabric. Yet that didn’t shake away the fear. Astarion cleared his throat in order to push down the panic and put it with the rest of his emotions he was ignoring before he headed after you.

He doesn’t say anything, knowing he doesn’t need to. He knows you know he’s there. The wind blew through the store once again and your scent wafted straight into Astarion’s nose. He closed his eyes as he continued to follow you. He relished in the way you smelled. Focused and memorized it, knowing he could pick it out of an entire crowd of people. Aware of the fact that he could find you in an instant if needed. But still he preferred to remain close. Have you stay in his sights.

As he opened his eyes and looked back upon you, his eyes moved down your form. Not stopping until they halt at the fabric on your belt. He hand reached out and lightly fiddled with the end of it that flowed in the air after you. Neither of you have stopped walking, Astarion not thinking as he walked behind you. His attention completely focused on the fabric and the way it hung off of you. On how beautiful it would look on you.

He then noted how soft the fabric was. How easy or difficult it could possibly be to work with. A plan already had formed in his head at how he’d stitch it into your tunic. It would be flawless, just as all his other work had been prior. Just as his thoughts shifted into imagining your reaction, your voice broke him out of it.

“Are you trying to pickpocket me?” You ask softly, not having bothered to check back and glance at him. Astarion blinked back, hand still gripped onto the fabric, though his eyes found their way to the back of your head. Before he realized what he’s done, an easy grin was on his face and a joke had slipped from his lips.

“You, my darling? Never,” Astarion jested, both of them keenly aware of the fact. He gave a little tug on the fabric for good measure and was rewarded with the sweet melody of your laugh. You shook your head as you both turned a corner, seemingly in search of an attendant.

“Oh, don’t give me that. No one is safe,” you teased right back but for some reason Astarion felt his grin drop a little. His brows furrowed as he quickly thought over your response. The word ‘safe’ having run repeatedly in his ear. He wanted you to feel safe. With him. He wanted you to know that you were safe from him. Whatever that meant he didn’t exactly know but it was what he felt. From what he could pin point.

He debated even telling you all this. To have allowed himself to randomly unleash his soul to you in the middle of a random shop in a city that held so many memories for him. But then he started to think about what you’d say in response. How you would react. Emotion begun to rise within him at the idea of admitting any of that to do. So instead he simply continued the light and fun banter.

“Well now I suppose I must for fear that I have something to prove.” Astarion gave another tug to the fabric, though this time a little bit lighter in order to have kept up the playful atmosphere. As your laughter echoed throughout the store due to his actions, all those pesky emotions subsided.

You lightheartedly pranced forward a few steps in a weak attempt to get your fabric out of his reach but Astarion followed right on your tail. Both to stop you from getting away and to stop any other displaced emotions from coming forth from your distance.

“Or you could simply not steal my fabric from my person,” you responded with laughter still in your tone. Astarion tsked as he shook his head at you. He picked up his pace, walking closer to you now. He adjusted his grip on the fabric, getting ready for his next move.

“No, darling, I’m afraid that doesn’t seem to be an option,” he said smoothly before he harshly tugged on the fabric for the third time. It slipped from your belt with ease and curled right around Astarion’s hand. You immediately felt it and a gasp ripped from your throat.

You turned around, finally facing Astarion since you both walked in here. You looked breathtaking. Astarion could marvel at your beauty for hours. At times he’d almost swear it’s greater than his own. Almost. But he especially thought your beauty shined most spectacularly in the sun, and it had hit you just right in this moment.

“Ah, Astarion! Why must you do this?” You asked with a light grin on your face. Astarion mirrored it, holding the piece of fabric slightly above his head as he knew you wouldn’t be able to reach it. That didn’t stop you from trying as you stepped up to him to try and reach for it. Your body pressed against his and instead of feeling like he needed to back away, not wanting to be touched, Astarion found himself leaning into you.

“I believe you practically asked me to do this, love. Begged me to almost as much as you beg for my attention,” he boasted, his expression smug as you continued to try and grab at the fabric. He’d lower it briefly just as you’d reached for it but then quickly bring it back up. You laughed again, shaking your head at him. Astarion didn’t realize until that moment that he had been counting the number of times he had made you laugh. The revelation sent a tremor through his chest that he’d rather just ignore.

“My dear Astarion, I think that tadpole in your mind has finally driven you to insanity,” you said with a light scoff. Astarion’s face dropped into a deadpan at that, though he couldn’t help the quirk of his lips still present.

“Dear me, how humorous you are, darling,” he responded back flatly, though a teasing note was still clear through his tone. His attention zeroed in on you once again as you snickered back at him. Astarion fell deeper into his focus, his ears ringing till he felt a deep pounding surrounding him. He didn’t realize before it was too late that he had focused on your heartbeat. It sounded light. Happy. Because of him.

While he remained distracted, his body sagged in place, not paying attention to his momentary lack of posture. You don’t hesitate to use that to your advantage as with it he had lowered his arm that held the fabric. You reached up, your arm having stretched as far as it could go before you swiped up the fabric right from his grip. A noise of victory left your lips and it effectively alerted Astarion. He blinked back, breaking out of his thoughts. It only took a couple of seconds for him to realize he didn’t have the fabric anymore. He met your smug look with a bit of disbelief as his eyes connected back to yours.

“I try,” you replied playfully to his previous comment as you winked at him. Astarion stood there frozen for a moment before he added another mental tally as you laughed once more. You strode off to barter with the owner as Astarion stood off to the side while he waited for you.

He couldn’t understand how easy this all was for you. How open with yourself you had always been. Especially toward him. He… didn’t know how to do stuff like that. To let you in so easily. But stitching this for you, even without your initial knowledge, that he could do. It was the only way he knew how to express what you meant to him. It was all he was ready to do. For now anyway.

So as you walked past him after you purchased the fabric, Astarion stayed particularly close. As you both entered the hustle and bustle of Baldur’s Gate’s streets, there were a lot of things around you both that served as proper distraction. Astarion struck when the time was right, just as another vendor started a loud argument with a customer, you looked over and that’s when Astarion reached out and slipped the fabric off of you with the lightest touch he could have managed.

He gazed down at it with a smile on his face and a sense of victory in his heart, his thumb brushed over it lightly as he reminded himself of its softness. But when you started to turn your head back to him, his eyes jerked up and the fabric disappeared within the confines of his inventory. You snorted as ruckus that continued off to the side and as you looked at him, Astarion plastered on another one of his signature grins.

It was only after you chuckled at him and looked back forward that Astarion found his grin had softened. He looked toward the streets just as you had as he counted down the minutes till you both got back to camp and he could get started. He wondered if you’d like it and what you’d say when you found out. Most of all though he wondered if you’d know what it meant. If you’d see through him as you always seemed to. Strangely, this time around he kind of liked that thought.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Heya! I love your "half a bed" fic!!

You said to drop any "only one bed"-trope ideas in your inbox so I'm hoping I did this correctly? But I'm thinking for Asterion x Tav that since Cazador controlled Star so much, he doesn't really own anything for himself? And maybe Tav notices and because the others are already asleep, she offers for him to share her bedroll? He's snarky and rude and she's unimpressed but it's the start of a mutual very strong infatuation and eventually relationship?

Heyo sorry it took so long!! Had some trouble overcoming the writer's block for this but hey I did it in the end! Hope you like it!

"I don't recall giving you my bedroll." You raise an eyebrow at the pale elf who has taken to using your bedroll every night ever since you first offered to share it with him.

He yawns, flashing his fangs at you before grinning, "we're sharing it, are we not? That means I have every right to lie on it."

"It doesn't mean you can take up the whole thing! Where am I going to sleep?" You attempt to shove him to one side but he refuses to budge an inch. "Move!"

"Nope." He pops the 'p' on purpose, knowing it will irritate you. You scowl and shove harder, half ruing the night you offered to share your bedroll. He laughs at your futile attempts, a genuine smile playing on his lips until you give up and flop onto him, causing him to yelp in surprise. You glower when he complains about you being too heavy, giving his side an annoyed poke but you can't really bring yourself to be mad at him even if he just stole your sleeping spot.

Then again, you always had a soft spot for the vampire spawn.

The first time he shared your bedroll was early on in your adventures. Everyone else had gone to sleep but he had remained outside, seated by the dwindling fire with the excuse that he wasn't tired yet. You'd woken up in the middle of the night to relieve yourself, noticing that even though the fire was long gone, he remained outside his tent.

"Still not tired?" You ask, slightly concerned.

"No." He answers curtly, leaving no room for further questions. You sit next to him, much to his chagrin and he shifts away ever so slightly. You notice it, of course, but choose not to comment on it.

"You should still try and trance, you'll need your strength for tomorrow," you hum, looking up at the night sky. The stars are bright tonight, shining in stark contrast to the dark sky.

"Shouldn't you take your own advice?" He snorts.

"Well, I'm not the one who has been out here the whole time," you retort, suppressing a yawn. He notices, however, the twitch of the corners of your lips and rolls his eyes.

"Go and sleep, idiot. Can't have our dear leader collapsing midway because they didn't get enough rest can we now?"

"Is that concern I hear?" You smirk.

"No." He scowls, sending a glare your way. You give him a look of disbelief, which then morphs into amusement and you grin.

"You're terrible at hiding it you know?" You huff, giving an amused shake of your head.

"Hiding what?"

"Your concern for my well-being."

"What concern?"

"That concern." You fold your arms across your chest, undeterred.

"Tch, stop bothering me and go back to sleep." He snaps, looking away. You, however, remain undaunted by his attitude.

"Is there a reason you can't trance?"

"Stop it and go back to sleep."

"There has to be a reason. Nightmares perhaps?"

"Shut up and stop asking so many questions."

"I'm trying to help you here."

"Then stop trying to help me. I don't need it."

"You don't want it, you mean."

"Yes, finally, you get it. Now leave."

"No." Your response surprises him.

"No?" He asks incredulously. "What do you mean no?"

"I'm not going to leave you to deal with your problems alone. We may not be friends yet, but we are companions. If you're stuck dealing with your own problems, you're not going to be able to fully contribute to the party and that's an issue. So we're going to solve it together, with me helping in whatever way I can and you doing the rest." You put your hands on your hips, daring him to talk back.

"And what if you can't do anything to help solve 'my problems'?" He sneers.

"Then I'll accept it and rely on you less so you can sort your own issues out first." His eyes widen slightly and you can see the panic that flashes across his face. Your heart aches upon seeing his reaction but you steel yourself, reminding yourself that it is for the greater good of the party.

"I —" He pauses, looking down. He sighs, looking back up at you reluctantly, all the fight having left his body. "I don't exactly have a bed roll to sleep in, you see. Cazador never allowed any of his spawn to have any personal belongings, everything belonged to him and he 'loaned it to us out of the kindness of his heart'. Trancing on hard ground is…difficult."

"We can share my bed roll if you're comfortable. Each of us can take a half, it should be big enough for us both."

He blinks, surprised. "Are you…sure? We…" He swallows hard.

"We've slept together before, don't tell me you're squeamish about sharing a bed roll." You raise an eyebrow.

"I'm not. It's just that…"

"Don't worry. I'm not some horny bastard who can't go a night without lying with someone. We can have our own side of the bed roll, no physical contact required." He still looks uncertain, and you sigh. You can't exactly fault him, he's dropped enough hints about certain aspects of his past and you're not going to tear open any of those wounds.

He laughs, the sound ringing hollow. "Are you sure about that, darling? It would suit my taste better if you were~"

It's your turn to roll your eyes. "Yeah, right. Anyways, are you going to take me up on my offer or not?"

"I'll take you up on it if you don't mind, darling." His usual smirk replaces the quiet sad look on his face.

"Well, come on then. We don't have much time left."

You can't help but smile upon remembering that night. He'd come so far since that night, the two of you had grown more comfortable with each other, and even after you had bought a bed roll for him, he still preferred sneaking into your tent to steal half your bed roll.

"What are you smiling about?" He pokes your cheek with a huff.

"Nothing." You grin. He rolls his eyes in response, running a hand through your hair. You bury your face in his chest, letting the gentle feeling wash over you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, loving the way you sprawl on top of him without a care in the world. He's a vampire, for goodness sake, and yet you bare your neck to his fangs like that, not the least bit worried he take advantage of the situation and drain you.

"Hmph." He wraps his arms around you, nuzzling into your hair. As much as he complains about it, your weight is comforting. It reminds him that he isn't alone anymore, that he has you to turn to when he needs someone to lean on, and that you have him to lean on in return.

"Good night, Star." You yawn cutely, stretching your limbs.

"Good night, love." He murmurs back, pressing one last kiss to your head before he drifts off into a trance. You watch him for a while, smiling softly at the way he slowly relaxes as the trance takes hold, worries forgotten for the night.

Wrapped in the cocoon of your vampire lover, you too drift off and let sleep claim you, knowing that when you wake, he will be the first thing you see just as he's always the last thing you see before you sleep.

[skelevenn]

First impressions

When you're just a sad little guy specializing in destructive fire and she's a huge friendly fireball of positivity and fun

[beecreeper]

The Golden Reign of Gortash -- Day 3

Battle / Party

I literally dreamed LAST NIGHT that patch seven added a masquerade event. Clearly it was a sign

[beautifulbows924]

Common Ground

Act One!Astarion x Gender Neutral!Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 650+

A/N: This fic is sort of a combination of a few of the (comparatively) similar requests I received, along with one particular scene that’s been running wild and ping ponging around in my brain for far too long. I somehow convinced my partner (who could not care less about fanfiction, but adores me) to proofread this for me. So any complaints should definitely be addressed to them—as I was, unfortunately, far too sleep deprived to read over this anymore than I already have. As always, I hope you enjoy—feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments, and happy reading! :)

Warnings: Angst, intentional allusions to past SA (the circumstances are left purposefully vague), concerning both Astarion and the Reader, writer will often suddenly break off into unexpected poetic tangents, a smidge of fluff—if you squint, & perhaps a bittersweet ending (depending on how you interpret it?)

“Darling”, Astarion carefully poses his words, “Are you certain that you’re quite alright?”

You’re terrified. He can see it. Your pulse is visibly thumping beneath your skin, and there’s a tremor to your hands he’s certain wasn’t there before.

But why now?

You’ve told him you trust him, demanded the others leave if they weren’t willing to accept the gift that is his company, and mere seconds ago offered yourself to him as a meal—to what you, with both intimate knowledge and first hand experience, know is a hungry vampire.

He would be questioning your sense of self preservation, or alternatively, your sanity. If he wasn’t awed by just how quickly you’ve managed to sway your companions' loyalty.

It takes a moment for you to notice he’s asked you a question. But once you have, you nod.

He sighs, clicking his tongue at you. That vacancy behind your eyes, it’s unnerving, too familiar. “Don’t lie, it doesn’t suit you. What is it?”

Your gaze shifts, opting to search for what must be a rather interesting spot somewhere behind him.

Two breaths in.

Two breaths out.

Astarion falters. That may have been harsh—if your continued silence is anything to go by. Perhaps, he should have left the lie to rest.

“Dearest”, he works to intentionally soften his tone, shoving past the honeyed lump that rises in his throat, thickly coated with syrup. This little manipulation won’t be ending in a hand naively held between his as he leads you down unassuming crypt steps.

He knows that.

“If you’ve suddenly changed your mind about”, he gestures vaguely between himself and your neck, “I’m sure I can make do with whatever animals find themselves unluckily situated in this part of the forest.”

Humble or selfless certainly isn’t his favorite role to play, but if he wants you to be his personal guard, it seems he may have to make an exception.

“No!” You blurt out, swallowing thickly at the raised brow he sends in your direction, mouth suddenly very dry, “I—It’s not that. I swear to you.”

He tuts, “Ah, but it is something. Hmm?”

You nod again, frustrated tears building in your eyes as each attempt at an explanation falls flat.

“No, it couldn’t—it”, Astarion makes a rather exaggerated motion with both of his hands, clutching his chest in theatrical shock, “Was it Gale?”

You huff, but it’s more exasperated than annoyed.

The left side of his lips lifts.

You drag your own roughly between your teeth.

“Earlier, you made a comment about being quiet, not wanting to disturb my rest”, unsteady hands bury themselves in the fabric of your pants, “Those words, the sudden realization that someone…anyone could have access to my body like that while I slept”, your head slumps forward, “The last time—I can’t.”

Two breaths in.

Two breaths out.

Astarion’s fingers slot into place beneath your chin, tilting it upwards to look at him.

And suddenly all you can see are the differences.

Everything he is appears less forced. No longer are you merely an audience and he an actor, but equals. Those that have found a common ground built upon the cruelty of others.

Far too accustomed to it.

There’s a raw familiarity held within your expression Astarion can’t quite discern.

Perhaps, in another life, someone cared for him. Once. To look at him with such fondness.

He wonders if he deserved it, then.

He allows the hold he has on you to become lighter and lighter, until his arm returns to hang at his side.

You hear a weary sigh, then, gently, “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry.”

A small smile flutters across your lips, light and without expectation. It’s a kindness he hasn’t yet learned how to navigate—and certainly has not earned, but he yearns for it all the same.

“Thank you, Astarion.”

BG3 Taglist: None yet!

[carooosa]

A Chance to be Normal

Word count: 2.3k Rating: Fluff/Hurt Pairing: Ascended Astarion x GN Resist Durge/Reader  Warnings: None AO3 link: A Chance to be Normal

Summary: After the Absolute has been defeated, Astarion wishes to fulfill your every desire. However, he didn't expect your desires to be so pedestrian.

A/N: This is literally the day after The Absolute has been killed. I’m going with the Vampire bride/husband theory, however I’m slightly changing it. Since Astarion has yet to fully understand and grasp his power, he isn’t able to fully extend all of the blessings that came with Ascension to you. This can be read by itself or as a prequel to the other works in my "Bound by You: Love is Power, Love is Weakness" series. Also yes this was part of a February fic prompt and yes it is now March. Life sucks sometimes ok.

“Just one day of normalcy.”

That’s the only thing you requested when Astarion asked what you’d like to do now that the Absolute was banished. He had been prepared for you to ask for anything in the world. You seemed hell-bent on taking revenge on any remaining Bhaalists, although you were worried that you may see familiar faces and turn back into your ‘Slayer-form’. You were ready to jump into Avernus with Wyll and Karlach, but a shared whisper between the three of you ended with them plunging into the hells together and you staying behind.

He meant it when he’d said, “Of course, my love. Anything you want, you shall have.” 

Even for a creature with such immeasurable power, what you desired was trivial in comparison.

Although, he would have to admit that the last month was more adventure than he had ever wished for. Perhaps a day of being a normal elf and a normal tiefling would be a nice change of pace.

When he tried to question what you wanted to do with the day, you simply smiled and whispered, “It's a surprise.”

And a surprise it would be. 

He wakes to hear you frantically running about the room you’re staying in at the Elfsong. You’re mumbling something to yourself before starting to giggle like a school kid. He turns on his side and opens his eyes, only for you to screech at him and slap your hand against his face to obscure his vision. “What are you doing awake?!” you shrill at Astarion.

He tries to gently remove your hand from his eyes, but you retaliate by placing your other hand on top of the first and pushing against him harder. 

“Darling,” he says with a breathy chuckle. “It’s hard to stay asleep with you running around like you’re covered in timmask spores.” Although he can’t see it, he assumes by the way that you fidget that your cheeks acquired a deep blush. 

He takes one of your hands and brings it down to his lips, placing his lips against your palm as he speaks into it. “My pet, what’s got you acting so strangely this morning?” 

Your hand flexes against him and for a second he thinks you’re going to relent. If there’s one thing about you that’s true, though, it’s that you’re as stubborn as a donkey (although Astarion would never say it to your face lest you unleash your ‘gift’ onto him).

“I told you last night,” you respond with a cheeky grin. “It’s a surprise.”

“Very well,” Astarion says while letting your hand drop. “If it must be so, then I suppose I’ll have no choice but to surrender.” 

He grimaces at the words as soon as he says them. He’ll need to keep his tongue in check upon returning to the Crimson Palace; it wouldn’t do to let anyone think there’s someone with power over him.

“Thank you.” You clear your throat before rummaging through the nightstand next to the bed and moving your hand so that only one of Astarion’s eyes is covered. “I still have some prep that I need to finish but I can’t trust you to not peek, so I’m gonna blindfold you.” Astarion smirks at you and raises his uncovered eyebrow. “Does your day of normalcy include a certain kind of exercise?” 

His eye flares at you, and in response, you blush even harder. You shake your head violently at his implication, and he can’t help the genuine smile that forms on his lips. For someone who thoroughly enjoyed his body, you were quite shy whenever he teased you.

“No, I have something special planned. It has to be a surprise though.”

He thinks for a second that he may continue to rile you up, but ultimately he decides against it. This ‘day of normalcy’ was the only thing you asked from him, and what kind of lord would he be if he couldn’t grant his consort’s first wish? 

So with a dramatic sigh, he says, “Alright, get on with it.”

Your other hand falls from his face to hold the handkerchief and he waits for the fabric to wrap around his eyes but it never comes. Instead, you’re focusing intensely on the blindfold, rolling the fabric between your fingers. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when you answer before he has the chance to.

“Do you trust me?” you ask him, your eyes round and full of vulnerability. 

You always asked these questions at the strangest of times. How could he say no? If anything, you were the only being he trusted. 

You could have killed him two tenday ago back in the Shadow-Cursed Lands in order to ‘fulfill your Bhaal-spawn duties’, but you didn’t. 

You could have forced him to drink from that blood Drow to gain a powerful potion, but you didn’t. 

You could have left him to perish in his old master’s ritual, but you didn’t. 

You stayed, you released him from the ritual and helped him to ascend instead. And later that night, you gave over your life.

You were so, so selfless and devoted to him. You could have stabbed him in the back many times, but you stayed by his side. 

It was quite foolish on your end, honestly. 

Astarion didn’t have much before the ritual, and even though he’s now the Vampire Ascendant, all he has is that empty mansion. All of the old servants were either dead or had escaped into the shadows, leaving behind a mess that would take days to clean up. Astarion Ancunín was unknown amongst the elite, nothing but a whisper of a pretty face with a nice body. 

Yet…for some untold reason, he was all you wanted.

It's been a few seconds since you asked Astarion the question, and you fidget beneath his silence. He plasters on a confident smirk to hide his insecurity, answering in the only way he knows how. 

“More than anything in the world,” he whispers. 

Grabbing your hands, he places a kiss on your knuckles before lifting them up to his eyes to put the blindfold on, and his world goes dark.

After you finish preparing your surprise and help Astarion get dressed, you lead him out of the tavern and around the bustling noise of celebrations in the town. All the while, he’s still wearing the blindfold. You pull him along, weaving in and out amongst the crowd. He’s not able to do much whenever he bumps into someone, and he’s convinced he must look the part of a bumbling idiot.

Suddenly, you yank him hard to the side and continue on as the noise from the city fades. The sounds and smells of nature start to flood Astarion’s senses when you stop moving without warning and he stumbles into you.

“My love, can I please take this wretched thing off?” Astarion whines. He’s unable to see your reaction and you don’t answer, but he can still smell your scent so he knows you’re nearby. He waits a few more seconds before asking, “Darling? Are you there?”

His newly beating undead heart starts to quicken as all he’s met with is silence. Has something happened to you? You were just pulling him along not even a minute ago, surely you were fine. 

But what if you weren’t? 

What if in the one moment he let down his guard you had been taken, or worse? 

He’s about to rip off the blindfold from panic when he feels your presence behind him removing the handkerchief.

As his eyes adjust to the brightness of the sun, you let out a big “Surprise!” before wrapping your arms around him. 

On the ground in front of him is a red blanket with golden lace trim; arranged on it are two glasses filled with an expensive champagne, an ornate plate stacked with chocolate-covered strawberries in a precise circular pattern, and a single rose in a small glass vase.

Astarion lets out a sigh of relief and kneels down to the arrangement on the blanket. “What’s this?” he asks while looking up at you.

There’s a smile plastered on your face and your eyes are full of pride. He realizes that he hasn’t seen what you’re wearing yet and his eyes trail down to your body. You’re wearing a simple outfit that’s the same color as the blanket, and looking at himself, the same color of his shirt as well. It’s not something he would have picked out for the two of you (as it’s far too plain), but since this was a day for blending in, he supposes it’ll do.

“This,” you say while plopping down next to Astarion, “is a picnic!” 

He laughs at your straightforward response and he can’t help but admire the blush that spreads on your cheeks. You stick out your bottom lip in a fake pout and cross your arms.

Astarion wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight embrace while whispering soothing words in your ear. “My sweetness, you never cease to make me smile. I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you.” You push him away with an eye roll. “I wasn’t laughing, Lord Ancunín.” Astarion tuts his tongue at that response. “Ah, ah, ah. Today I’m just Astarion.”

You quickly envelop his face with your hands and move closer so that your lips are just out of reach from his. Your eyes are full of love as you say, “My Astarion.”

His mouth goes dry at your proclamation. 

Was he really yours? If he was, would that be a bad thing? 

Of course, he would need to make sure that no one ever found out just how deep the bond was between the two of you, lest they use it against him. Or worse yet, they use it against you. His thoughts begin to race but before he can spiral into his insecurities, you snap him back to the present with a gentle kiss on his nose.

Astarion blinks once and you smile, grabbing a strawberry and holding it up to his mouth. 

“Open,” you say while pressing the fruit against his lips. 

He obliges and takes a bite of the fruit, staring at you as you watch him intently. The flavors dance in his mouth, the bitterness of the dark chocolate melting on his tongue combines with the sweetness of the strawberry to taste like pure bliss. It’s been centuries since he tasted food that didn’t immediately cause bile to form in his throat.

You fidget from his silence. “You haven't had anything other than blood in over two centuries, so I thought I'd share my favorite food with you. Although saying that out loud, I probably should have asked what your favorite food was instead of –” 

Astarion cuts off your rambling with a hungry kiss, pushing his tongue against your lips. You let him in and almost immediately you push him away, retching and coughing. 

“I-I’m sorry, let me just get something to drink,” you hurriedly reassure him as you grab a glass and drink some of the champagne. 

You spit out the drink and begin to retch just as before.

Astarion quickly jumps to your side and reaches out to rub your back but hesitates for a moment, looking around to see if anyone else is watching. Noticing that no one is nearby, he begins to rub soothing circles against your back, similar to how he noticed you comfort others during the last few months. Tears threaten to spill out from the corners of your eyes; whether it be from the pain or from something else, he’s not sure.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks while peering over to look closer at you.

It takes you a few more seconds to catch your breath before you respond. “The taste… it’s horrid.”

Astarion’s head begins to spin at the revelation. When he was just a mere spawn, anything other than blood tasted vile. But you weren’t a spawn, you were more. You were his consort; hells, you drank some of his blood. Maybe it wasn’t enough blood, maybe you needed more of his life source flowing through you.

Or maybe he wasn’t as powerful as he originally thought.

Yes, he was able to protect you from the sun, however, it wasn’t to the extent of total invulnerability. You were only able to last under the direct rays for a few hours before your skin would start to simmer and bubble. It was a bittersweet end to the celebration of the Absolute’s defeat. 

In exchange for your complete devotion, Astarion had stolen your freedom in the sun.

How many more of his weaknesses would afflict you? Your reflection was still visible, but without the need to traverse through moving water or eat food, it hadn’t crossed his mind that you were affected in negative ways.

His inner monologue is cut short as you still his comforting arm on your back. “I’m okay, really. Why don’t you enjoy the treats I brought? We wouldn’t want to make my time out in the sun today to be for nothing, would we?” 

You look at your love with a heartbreakingly pitiful smile.

While he has always admired your strength, he could feel the sorrow emitting from you. Quite literally, he was overwhelmed with a sadness unlike his own. His stomach began to twist in knots and the edges of his eyes became damp. 

“No, we wouldn’t want to do anything of the sort.” He plastered on that fake smile of his and looked into your soulless eyes, your mind miles away as he agreed. “Come, darling, lay your head on my lap.”

The rest of the picnic was quiet, and later that night once you both returned to the Elfsong, Astarion impatiently waited for you to fall asleep. Once he was sure you wouldn’t stir, he quickly scribbled a correspondence to Waterdeep. If he was going to protect you, he needed to have more power, and there seemed to be a saying about knowledge leading to power.

Special thanks to @starryjuicebox and @enterthedreams for helping me finish this fic!

[greekdekarios]

durge is for all the girlies who can't remember their childhood and have intrusive thoughts that would put them on a government watchlist. durge is for all the girlies with religious trauma and daddy issues. durge is for all the girlies who are trying to be better but don't know where to start

[eliweinberger]

My new Baldurs Gate 3 character Sang (they/them) Dark Urge, Warlock, Drow, menace and danger to society

[the-southern-cereal-king]

This is Proncess Beepis, my durge character that’s truly fucked up. They’re non-binary, and neutrally evil. She’s a monk and likes to throw Intellect Devourer corpses at his enemies.

[re-bae]

𝙂𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙝 𝙭 𝘿𝙪𝙧𝙜𝙚

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐝𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧; 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭. 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧/𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

You have been alone with your Urges for so long that you consider his offer. 

Bhaal’s blood may flow in your veins, inclining you towards the macabre, but you are as much your mother’s son as you are your father’s creature. 

Half Bhaalspawn, half human. Your Urge demands satisfaction in blood and death just as strongly as your human half yearns for companionship. You would do almost anything for an ally that could survive your affections. And Gortash, for all his preening and fine manners, seems like a survivor. 

You are tired, bloodied and fit to drop but even now you are capable of truly monstrous deeds. What would he think, you wonder, if he saw what you did to your other allies? 

You recall their pretty corpses fondly; the most recent kill is still fresh in your mind. A pale elf with a secret. But you pried it out of him, didn’t you? Remember his skin under your nails as you opened his chest and found his stomach filled with blood not of his own? The others were much more forthcoming since him, but it had set you apart from them, made them despise you. And now here you are, abandoned by all and alone. 

Since him you have also learned some restraint. As your memories return to their rightful place in your skull it has become easier to limit the Urge. Although, that has never been an issue with Bane’s Chosen; your Urge is positively docile around him. 

It is your human desires that overtake your senses around him. Rather than seeing the potential of an agonising death offering, you have become increasingly occupied with thoughts of carding your fingers through his soft black hair. Would he sigh and turn into your touch or grip yours in turn, ever a disobedient tyrant seeking the upper hand. What if you let him? You imagine he would not settle for such a meagre victory, that he would take and take until there was no more of you left to give.

You smile unwittingly, distracted by the fantasy, and he takes this as your consent. His eyes are soft with affection when he meets your gaze, and you can’t recall ever having been the object of such emotion before. Affection and… something else. You find you don’t want to look too hard; your memories are still too scattered to entirely make sense of him.  

Gortash takes your hand between both of his, caressing his blissful warmth into your flesh. Let him take, you think, let him use you as he most certainly intends to. You would gladly be his leal hound so long as he keeps the bitter cold away. 

[yeehawbvby]

Silver and Gold, Blood and Snow (Gortash x GN!Dark Urge)

Rating: Teen+ (Mentions of canon-typical violence)

Summary: Midwinter is a tenday away, and it has Gortash reminiscing about your holiday celebration just a few years prior.

Author’s Note: This was written as a Ko-fi request for the wonderful @liquid-coffeebear !! It takes place before the events of BG3, but after Durge got Orin'd. The Durge's race, height, gender, etc. are all left completely ambiguous. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do! :D x

Check it out on ao3!

Snow was bountiful in the Lower City this winter.

Enver watched from the balcony as children played outside his fortress: trudging their way through the knee-high substance, pelting snowballs at one another, and letting even the weakest hit knock them down, just to have an excuse to lay atop the soft white sheets beneath them. He viewed passersby buying gifts for loved ones from the local booths and shops, arms full of burlap, and burlaps full of toys and jewelry and clothing galore. He gazed at the warm-blooded Dragonborn denizens walking freely in their typical daywear while the humans, halflings, and everyone else shivered beneath their copious layers.

The Lord had never been one for people-watching, more focused on his duties and plans for the future than those whom he’d spend it with. For some reason, though, he felt nostalgic this year.

He thought back to when you were around. Before Orin had… well, you know.

There was one Midwinter’s eve in particular that stuck out in his memory, as vivid as red on white. You had just finished wreaking havoc, as was your specialty; you would regularly fill the city’s citizens with dread, and leave them with a submissive and naïve hope for a better future that only their Lord could potentially grant them.

Blood had been splattered across the walls of every building you entered that day – the Upper City palace Enver had resided in at the time being the only exception – and in turn, crimson smears stained every inch of snow you stepped in. Of course, as a courtesy towards those you’d slain, you decorated their corpses with ribbons, and garland, and any other festive decor you could rip down from proximate displays. It was the least you could do, really.

In the midst of the chaos, you found time to steal a present for Enver. He’d complained at first that he had enough gold to buy himself anything he wanted. He appreciated the gesture, of course, but what need was there for such menial yearly practices when he could have all of Faerûn – perhaps all of the world – in his palm within the coming years?

You huffed, demanding in spite of your kind eyes that he take the damned gift before you slit his torso open and replace his viscera with it.

You truly were a being after his own heart.

He’d laughed, wordlessly taking the hastily wrapped box from you. After turning the lengthy object over in his hand for a moment, he peered up, only to view you staring intently at your own feet. Shyness was a rare look on you. It fueled Enver’s curiosity, prompting him to finally tear the parchment away from the wooden vessel.

Opening the small metal clasp revealed to him a set of golden gauntlets. There were two arm coverings that looked as if they could be a perfect fit for his person, and for his right hand only laid somewhat of a glove piece. Along with these came a set of rings, some of which resembled claws.

The ore had been molded into serpentine designs, yet within the right-hand adornment laid an empty crevice. It looked as though it was meant for a jewel of sorts, but the poor soul these had been lost to hadn’t had a chance to insert it yet.

Enver tilted his head, poring over every detail of the accessories. The back of his mind wondered just who these were originally for – certainly it must have been an elite, given the intricate craftsmanship – but his consideration evaporated as he realized it mattered not.

The poor soul was long gone anyway.

For the first time in ages, someone had rendered him speechless. He looked up at you, whose gaze was back on his. Your eyes glimmered with a hope you clearly hadn’t wanted to be seen. You knew he respected you as his equal; that he trusted you with his life, to rule his world alongside him… yet you seemed to search for his praise..?

It was silly, really. Of course you’d earned it. These were perfect for him. He closed the gap between the two of you, placing the box in your hands so he could try the gauntlets on. The rings fit splendidly. The arm pieces could use some adjusting, as they were a bit too snug, but it was nothing his personal smith couldn’t fix.

Using one of his newly equipped prosthetic nails, he tugged you closer, planting a kiss to your slightly chapped lips. It was all the approval you needed.

In the present day, Enver looked down at the gauntlets. He rarely removed them – they’d become an integral part to his aesthetic. The empty slot that once was now contained his beloved Netherstone. Not only did your gift have sentiment, but it served a grander purpose than you’d ever come to know.

Enver missed you. Orin was a fine accomplice, but if anyone was to be Bhaal’s chosen, it should have been you… and if anyone was to share his companionship, it needed to be you. His heart felt empty in your wake.

He headed back into his chambers, requesting a cup of mulled wine from one of his servants. The same blend you’d shared on that cold Midwinter’s eve.

This Midwinter was just a tenday away. Perhaps he’d have a lonely celebration of his own this year. He’d relax by a fire and drink in your honor, reminiscing of old times and musing what could have been.

[abyssalaerlocke]

I wrote a whole horny series with Astarion, Gale, and Durge as the Dead Three's Chosen

But considering I'm thoroughly into Gortash now, I'm considering if he'd been in a bloodweave sandwich

Astarion would still be Myrkul's, but obviously Gortash is Bane's, so you could go bhaalspawn!Gale

In that case, it would probably be Durge!Gale getting with Astarion, before meeting his 'ex', and they all get together. Myrkul might take an interest in Astarion, or they all just give the middle finger to the gods and split the three netherstones between them to become Absolute together

[interplanet--janet]

chapters 13 and 14 are up!!!! if i post the tags here i think i will get banned so. pls be aware of the bag full of dead doves <33

Pairing: The Dark Urge/Gortash Rating: Explicit Archive Warnings: Major character death, Graphic depictions of death/violence

[rafumeika]

I started another bg3 run because why not and I decided for once to be good since I've already done like 3 evil runs and tell me why just by acting good I have -2 reputation with Astarion lmao he looks so annoyed when I talk to him I didn't even know you could get negative reputation with the companions

Look at his annoyed face. He looks like he's debating if getting rid of the tadpole is indeed worth putting up with my good cleric ass

[carooosa]

Bound by You: Love is Power, Love is Weakness

NOTE: THIS IS AN OUTDATED VERSION, PLEASE GO HERE TO SEE THE UPDATED VERSION

Part 1: Exposure

Word count: 700 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Ascended Astarion x gn!AFAB Resist Durge/Reader Warnings: 18+, exhibitionism, ear play, violence against an NPC AO3 link: Exposure

Summary: Astarion can exert his control/power as he maintains composure while fucking you, and while he may not be as strict with his council when doing so, the harshness behind his actions is still there. But when you torture him by making him moan in front of everyone who is beneath him? Not only will it show him weak, but it’ll show his weakness.

It’s another boring day as a consort as you sit on your lover’s bare lap, slowly rolling your hips into him. Astarion refused to let you out of his sight for too long, always wanting to have some part of him touching you. It upset you, at first, having to sit in on all of the dreadful conferences. But as always, Astarion made sure that it was worth your time.

You weren’t sure exactly how it started, but whenever Astarion would get annoyed or pissed off at one of his council members he would yank you closer and begin to fuck you, right there, in front of everyone. Somehow he was able to maintain composure as he catered to your needy whines. He always took care of you, and one day, you got the brilliant idea to care for him in return.

As you continue to lazily fuck Astarion, you reach your hands behind his neck to start massaging the knots. He doesn’t acknowledge you save for a quick twitch in his ears. You push harder, hoping to alleviate some of the stress the Vampire Lord must feel. Moving up on his neck, you meticulously knead every knot you find. As you finish giving him a massage, one of your hands slightly brushes against his ear, causing a shutter to ripple through Astarion.

You quickly look at him and notice his lips part, a silent moan leaving them. Interesting, you think to yourself, and you slowly reach out to stroke his ear. 

You watch as Astarion gasps, eyes fluttering closed in contentment. He swiftly tries to regain control by focusing on his breath, when suddenly, you start to suck on his ear. He mindlessly bucks his hips forward. He grasps the armrests of his chair, splintering the wood.

He can vaguely see in his peripherals the council all glance at each other and shift uncomfortably in their seats, one of them clearing their throat. Astarion is trying to regain his poise but all he can think about is your lips on his ear. While sucking and nibbling one of his lobes, you gingerly reach out your hand to his other ear and begin to play with the tip. A quiet moan starts in the back of Astarion’s throat as you coo at him, telling him that he’s such a good vampire, so strong, an amazing leader, your love . All the council can do is watch as their terrifying lord comes undone beneath your touch.

Astarion is panting and moaning as you whisper sweet nothings while giving attention to his ears. The nobility that usually cowers at the mention of the vampire lord’s name now sit watching, unable to do anything in fear of retaliation. One of the younger nobles, a viscount who was only in the room as a ploy for Astarion to gain a connection with that family, began to slowly stroke his fingers against his strained trousers.

Within seconds, Astarion barks an order.

“Stop.”

You pause, concerned that you may have gone too far. Before you can ask if you did something wrong, Astarion is on his feet and holding the young viscount by his throat. He raises the boy above his head, his claws piercing into his flesh.

“You fucking degenerate. How dare you please yourself while looking at my consort.”

The boy is unable to respond, blood filling his throat, causing him to suffocate. Astarion slowly closes his grip on the viscount’s neck, watching as he struggles to pull his nails out. The boy stops thrashing, the life drained from his eyes as his body goes limp.

Astarion continues to hold the corpse in the air as he addresses his council. “Leave. Now. And if so much as a word of today’s events is whispered outside of this room,” he pauses, throwing the body onto the table where the group congregates, “I will personally hunt each and every one of you.”

A few days later, a rumor silently spreads across Baldur’s Gate. Astarion, the unforgiving and merciless Vampire Ascendant, has a weakness. While many laugh and make jokes about how the powerful tyrant gets turned on with the touch of his ears, a resistance group takes note of his true weakness, and their key to his demise: you. Part 2 Here