#i love astarion's shadow get up

[grapecaseschoices]

adair's group is my best dressed, so of course I had to show them off.

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

My partner finally finished BG3 but has no idea that his ending was actually bad cause he was a pro-Vlaakith githyanki who rode off with Lae'zel but got NO EPILOGUE where Withers points out y'all died im 😭😭😭

they have no idea what happened with Gale or anyone else (who was still alive) after flying away 🙃🙃🙃

[astrxealis]

bg3 is too fun. too fun.

[scalpelsister]

yet another astarion icon tagging hate in shadowhearts tag 🤔

[necroruined]

redoing tags bc i can.

[twi-liight]

Hi! I suffer from Baldur's Gate brainrot. I just stumbled upon your blog and love your writing! Could you do some Astarion, Gale and Karlach headcanons for taking care of Tav after they're badly injured in battle?

Reckless Attack ❣

Grieve, weep, and agonize over a corpse - but know that death is never final in Faerun. The burden of injuries will instead always be present: pain is eternal, no matter how numb. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Karlach/Tav. ❥ TW: Descriptive mentions of injuries and gore. ❥ Act 2 spoilers. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you!

An Absolutist cult has gathered deep in the bowels of the forests of Rivington. Nothing out of the ordinary... Other than the sheer numbers they possess, creating a dense population of Absolute extremists gathered in stone ruins.

Adventuring parties that dare to end their machinations perished slowly and painfully. Their corpses - what is left of them - are displayed pierced from the gnarled branches of the trees, where they bleed out on the forest ground.

Tav, Astarion, Gale, and Karlach had a plan: throw a barrel full of smoke bombs into the middle of the ruins, firebolt, and profit. Except things didn’t go according to plan (they never do). That barrel was supposed to be at their rendezvous point, but the cultists found it before they did and thought it a gift from their Goddess.

Trapped in hiding, Tav decided to do what they do best: attack.

A potent necromancy curse was successfully cast on Tav, negating any healing spells thrown their way.

Well.

Fuck.

ASTARION

"As always, you refuse to listen to me. And now look at you: a mess. What did I say about running afool to the vanguard?" Astarion does not wait for their response. “Don't do it. It is smarter to be in the shadows in this instance. And what did you do? Ran alone into a quarry of cultists with no sense of self-preservation!”

Anger, pure anger, is present in his voice, sharpening his typical melodic lilt into daggers. If he cared about the present company - Shadowheart, Halsin, and Gale crowded into a tent, surrounding Tav upon their cot - it is nonexistent in his wine-red eyes. They could get lost in those bloody depths for hours. But not now. Not when seething rage roils off of his body like a cloud of darkness.

They look away.

"Nothing to say for yourself, darling?” he mocks. Astarion’s visage twists into a sneer, sharply turning his face away from them. He finds an unused rag, wets it, wrings it of excess water, and then moves past Shadowheart. “Allow me,” he murmurs to her, gentler.

Shadowheart’s inquisitive green eyes understand the depth of the situation immediately. She sighs, clearly annoyed he has taken over her job, but is dissuaded by Astarion’s next string of words: “I’ll clean them up. Magic and healing and all that wonderful nonsense are not necessarily my area of expertise. A firebolt here and there, surely, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with a curse that... Negates healing magic.”

“Sure,” Shadowheart replies, eyes flicking to Tav. Worry is evident over her features. Worry hangs heavy around everyone. Emerging out of battles victorious and grievously injured is commonplace; nothing a mass healing word couldn't fix along with a good night’s rest. Open wounds would be closed scars, ailments would be cured, and broken bones would be unbroken. Rinse and repeat.

This time, it is different.

They, and they alone, were cursed with a necromancy spell that makes all healing magic useless to their wounds.

Their wounds are appalling: Broken ribs evident with the pain swelling in their chest and labored breathing, purple and black blotchy bruises from the hammer blows they took to the shoulder, an open laceration across their chest, their ankle snapped in two, burns on their left leg crawling up their thigh. Blood all over their face from their own and from the enemies they felled.

“Hey, it’s fine,” they wheeze out. "Nothing I can't handle. The cultists are down and dead and buried - everything else can come after."

Hesitantly, Gale opens his mouth to reply, but is abruptly cut off by Astarion snapping out: "No."

"No," they echo. Their brows furrow.

"What a saint you are," Astarion snarls. His lips are down-turned, fangs bared as he speaks, but his ministrations upon their face are soothing. Gently, he rubs off the blood with a cool washcloth, eyes focusing on the task at hand as he cannot bear to look at them.

"Throwing yourself into the heat of battle like that, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy watching rational fly past you when you make your impulsive decisions?"

They flush with humiliation and hurt. Broken and battered, they dig their elbow into the cot to prop themselves up and face Astarion head-on, but Halsin presses a hand into their shoulder and pushes them down.

Fuck. Their head spins in circles.

"You're one to talk. Impulsivity is your middle name; you said yourself that planning is not your forte." Even raising their voice hurts but they do it anyway. Their eyes, threatening to slip into oblivion, flood with frustrated tears. "What the fuck is your problem, Astarion?"

"Must I really spell it out for you, sweetheart? You go around, telling everyone exactly what they need to hear. You tell them they aren't alone. That you will help them, that you will ensure they see the future that they want." The words are venom: petty and spiteful and yearning to be understood. "You," Astarion hisses out, "are so blind."

Tempers rising to fever pitch, Halsin tenses from his spot at the foot of the cot. From the corner of Tav's eye, they see Gale murmur something to him, something like, Let this play out. Astarion would never hurt them.

"I am the only one who will take the first step!" Tav cries. The words explode out of their broken chest faster than they realize, flying like an arrow straight toward Astarion's unbeating heart. "I risk my life - every day - for all of YOU! For all the people that need me! For all that I am because-"

"Because what?" He taunts. "Because it is the right thing to do? Look at yourself, Tav! You are on death's door if not for everyone in this room!"

"Because no one else will do it! Not anyone in this damn camp cares enough to- to help the people we could-" They cough violently, but they slam their elbows into the cot to prop themselves up. No one stops them this time as they meet Astarion's burning eyes. "No one cares but ME-"

"WE care about you!" Louder. Vicious. Astarion's voice splits in the air in two in one fell swoop, striking them down like lightning into silence.

He's breathing heavily, panting, as if exhausted. The adrenaline pumping in his veins is begging him to swoop Tav up and run away with them. Away from all of this bullshit and into hiding within the shadows. Maybe the Underdark. Maybe the Shadowcursed Lands. They can descend into madness together.

At least there, they will be safe.

"I care about you," Astarion chokes out before he can stop himself. "More than anything. Do you know that? I hope you know that."

Their mouth forms the words to reply, Of course I do, but it doesn't leave their throat. Instead, it stays stuck there like a fluttering butterfly, forced into silence. It hurts to speak. It hurts to talk. It hurts to see him like this.

He calls out their name so quietly it could have been a trick of the wind.

"Astarion," they plead.

He shakes his head, stubborn and unconvinced. "You don't owe these people anything. You certainly do not owe them your life for their burdens. I," he breathes out, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist around the rag, where their blood stains his palm.

"I almost lost the sun of my life today."

When Astarion opens his eyes, they are steeled with resilience and fury as they gaze into theirs. It is hypnotic. It is lonely. They yearn to comfort him.

"It will not happen again."

GALE

"Easy," Gale murmurs, a strong arm laying them down in his tent. Soft blankets and pillows meet their back, and the cushy grass beneath makes for a cool and comforting sleep. Their breath stutters, but Gale gazes at them so fondly as he pushes their hair from their face that the pain eases.

He does not miss their labored breathing. "Shhh shh shh. I've got you. Just focus on me."

His thumb lingers on the swell of their cheek. His eyes flutter close. A gentle glow of purple surrounds him, and eventually, that gentleness extends to Tav. The agonizing, piercing sensation in their chest numbs into a cool, muted nothingness. They gasp - then exhale in relief, slower than their panicky, short breaths from before.

"That's it," he encourages. "Well done, my love. How are you feeling?"

"So-so," they reply. Their voice aches and croaks, but for some reason, it makes Gale smile.

Oh no. He knows that look.

They study his handsome, tired face, looking for any signs of alarm. Is he hungry? Does he need to feed on another artefact? Was there an envoy telling them they missed another Absolutist hideout? Did they miss something? Did they do something wrong?

No. Nope. "Enough of that." He takes their hand, kisses their knuckles, then sighs. "You're the last person who should be worrying about someone. Such a pest, hm? Always buzzing around me like I'm seconds away from disappearing in front of your eyes..."

"You are," they say. Their brows furrow, and they pant out, "The-- your burden to carry, the--"

"The orb, I know. I know." His heart twists. It aches. He failed Mystra before and that was painful. But this is another subject entirely; it couldn't come close. Watching sheer heartbreak in their expression because of him? Oh, Goddess forgive him, he has failed them.

Gale can scarcely celebrate his victory, too. He undid the damned curse that affected Tav's ability to receive magic. The necromancy spell was so potent that Tav rejected any healing spells thrown at them. Late into the hours of experimentation, he, Halsin, and Shadowheart considered allowing the effects to wither and die rather than exterminating it outright. It was Jaheira who told them it would be inefficient, because how long would they have to wait in camp while Tav rode out the effects of the curse? Ideally? Hours. But days? Weeks? Months?

He spent the long night following and feeling out the curse with the Weave. It was a complicated hex - a tangled knot of magic that had to be unwoven carefully, thread by thread. Every connotation, every intent was traced back to the heart of the curse, and he followed it with abandon.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, then," they whisper.

"You should be," he jests. "Nearly made my heart collapse, seeing you like that."

The image is still burned into his mind. He can't stop thinking about it. His mortality has always been a dreadful afterthought pushed into the further recesses of his tadpole-addled brain, but was he so taken with Tav that he never realized how mortal they were, too?

No. No. Gale tightens his grip on their hand, giving them a comforting squeeze as they breathe in and out, in and out. It's not that he never realized how susceptible they are to death and danger. He just never wanted to confront it.

"You are changing the very premise of my life," he says softly. An exasperated chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, adding, "as always. I don't know what I would have done if I actually lost you, back there." What wouldn't I do? "No scrolls of revivifies, no Withers to bring you back. I wouldn't be able to accept it."

He understands Ketheric Thorm all too well, now.

"Come here," they whisper. Gale lets their hands press into the back of his head. He thinks, absently, that he would let them do much of anything. In their care, he is no grand wizard with a plethora of achievements under his belt. No. He is as humble as the Weave itself, and their hands compose music and art for him to simply bear witness to.

They rest his head upon their chest, where his ear can listen to the comforting sound of their beating heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud.

"Good night, my love," Gale says, when their breathing evens and they have finally fallen into peaceful slumber. He does not sleep at all.

KARLACH

"Oh gods. Oh gods!" Karlach clasps Tav's left hand between hers, holding tightly and vowing to never let go. Their blood stains her hand and chest and clothes. It's everywhere. Sickly sweet and sticky, drawing all of her attention from the room to the sensation of it dripping down her skin.

They've lost so much blood. It's nauseating, like an unsettling reality has just settled in her stomach.

"Tav!" She exclaims, helpless and pathetic. "Why did you do that, you big idiot? You seriously could have gotten killed out there, why-- why aren't you..."

Responding? Where are their quips, their sass, their brightness she fell so fast and hard for? Tav lays there upon the cot, broken and battered. Karlach has seen the remains of her enemies after she has slaughtered them and has barely flinched. She can barely stomach the sight of them bloodied, bones twisted in the wrong way, bruises so purple they're as black as a chasm.

All they can do is breathe. Their eyes focus distantly above them to the roof of the tent, but nothing else.

Panic seizes her faster than she can control it. "Are they breathing?! Are they going to survive this?! Fuck," she growls, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair, matted with blood. "I should have made those sons of bitches suffer."

"Karlach," Shadowheart says, firm but gentle, her hands bloody too as she applied pressure down on Tav's wounds, "it was important that you returned them to camp as fast as you did. Sometimes, we do not have the luxuries to let our enemies die in pain."

Right. Right. Karlach watched an Absolutist barbarian slam his warhammer into Tav's back. Once to knock them down. Twice to keep them plastered on the ground. Once more to keep them unconscious. She saw red, then: the rage she slipped into boiled her veins so hot, the howl she let out sent her surroundings enemies into a frightened frenzy. She hacked her great axe into the barbarian over and over and over until he was nothing but a bloodied pulp of a man, more gore than flesh.

She scooped Tav up from the ground. Karlach never let anyone else touch them. She snarled and snapped at the others who tried to come too close and dead sprinted as fast as she could back to camp.

She heard their choked sobs of pain in her arms. They choked out her name, and Karlach couldn't offer them much of anything other than an, "We're going home, bubs, just hang on. 'Kay? You just focus on me."

"Can I stay here?" She begs Shadowheart. "I won't get in the way. Just let me hold their hand, please."

Shadowheart exchanges a conflicted glance at Halsin. He nods, and she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But - I need you to stand to the side for now. You can hold their hand after we're done figuring out how to undo this curse."

"A fine specimen of a curse, really," Gale adds, his hand curled under his chin. "I'm almost impressed."

"I would be too," huffs Shadowheart, "if our reckless leader wasn't caught up in this mess. Really, what were you thinking?"

"Right?" Karlach shoves off into the corner of the tent, doing her best to keep herself as small and as out-of-the-way as possible. Tears flood her eyes, and she chokes out, "Of all the things to do, why did it have to be that? I thought you said you trusted me! To have your back! I have your back, don't I? Don't I?"

"Of course you do," Halsin croons. He hooks his finger into a bottle of salve, and spreads it on Tav's burns. Tav visibly winces and tenses, whimpering in pain.

"Stop whatever you're doing right now!" Karlach wails. "You're hurting them! I'll kill you, Halsin, I swear it!"

Gale exchanges a look with Shadowheart. He ponders deeply for a moment as Karlach sobs devastatingly behind them. He opens his mouth, then shuts it promptly.

"Just say it," Shadowheart urges impatiently.

"We should play a game," he suggests. "The quiet game."

"No way," Karlach hiccups. "I'm dogshit at that game. Anyway, focus on Tav or I'll gut you, seriously."

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

[sserpente]

After

Synopsis: You help Astarion wash off the blood after he kills Cazador. He doesn’t say much—but you can tell he needs you now more than ever.

A/N: I thought of this the other day and I almost cried. So I wrote it so that you can almost cry as well.

Words: 897

Warnings: trauma responses, fluff

Astarion was being unusually quiet, his movements robotic and too automatic as if he was somewhere else entirely in his mind. And he was. You couldn’t blame him. He had his own demons to deal with after what you had just witnessed.

His hand was still clutching the dagger so tightly his knuckles turned white. But not even the blood stains on his bare skin could manage to disfigure him. He was as beautiful as ever despite the streams of tears drying on his cheeks.

You’d wrapped your cloak around him after he announced he wanted to get out of there, eager to respect his wish. There was nothing left for him here. It was over. Now all he had to do was to heal, slowly, from the trauma the past two hundred years had caused him.

Both Shadowheart and Gale had offered to help calm him down with magic but Astarion had been quick to decline. It was dark outside by the time you left the palace—a welcome circumstance. Though it was not uncommon for citizens to roam the city drenched in blood every now and then, you were certain Astarion was grateful for the absence of curious and suspicious looks as you made your way back to the Elfsong Tavern.

It wasn’t just Cazador’s death of course. He’d turned it all down. The ability to walk in the sun, the powers Ascension would have granted him… Now he’d return to the shadows. But he wouldn’t do it alone, that you were going to make sure of. He had you.

He was still silent by the time you returned to your room upstairs. Whoever had decided to stay behind today—Lae’zel, Wyll, Jaheira, Halsin and Minsc—their eyes all went wide the moment they laid their eyes on the blood-drenched vampire spawn.

The questions were burning on their tongues, you could tell. But they held back. You cleared your throat.

“Would you guys mind… leaving us for a bit? Join the others downstairs for a drink maybe?”

“Understood,” Jaheira said. She waved her hand and nodded, compassion glistening in her wise eyes. “Take your time.”

“Astarion…” Minsc pushed Jaheira out of the way, earning him a groan. “Is… is Cazador dead?”

“Yes, he’s dead, Minsc,” you answered for him. Jaheira grabbed his arm and dragged him along with her before he could say something else. Wyll, Lae’zel and Halsin followed suit.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the latter announced. A few heartbeats later, you were alone.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, love.” Your voice was barely a whisper but Astarion heard you nonetheless. He nodded and finally allowed you to peel the dagger from his grasp. You set it aside on a table and lead him to the washtub in the corner of the room.

The cloak slipped from his shoulders, sailing to the wooden floor. He made no move to pick it up, no move to help you as you filled the tub with warm water. In fact, you weren’t sure he even saw you do it. But when you moved away to get him a fresh towel for later, you heard him.

“Don’t leave,” he said softly. Your eyes darted back to him, taking in the vulnerability and helplessness surrounding him like cold mist.

“I won’t. Ever. I was just gonna get you a towel.”

“Don’t leave,” he repeated.

The chest with your things was just around the corner, still, you opted against it. You forced the corners of your lips up and nodded, returning back to his side.

He didn’t protest when you removed his bloodied trousers and had him step out of them, didn’t resist when you made him climb into the tub and eventually, undressed yourself and reached for a sponge and soap before joining him.

Silence filled the room, water dripping as you dunked the sponge in. His sigh the moment it touched his cool skin was heartbreaking.

Inch by inch, you washed off the blood, pressing feather-light kisses to his chest and his face every now and then. Once you were done and the very last traces of Cazador had vanished, you cupped his cheeks, gently forcing him to look you in the eye.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

Astarion nodded. “I just need…time.” To process. To decompress, to let everything that happened today sink in.

You nodded. “I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, Astarion. I am so proud of you. What you did today…that was the bravest thing I have ever witnessed. You didn’t have to do it and it wouldn’t have made you any less brave if you hadn’t faced him. But you did. I love you. And I will do anything in my power to help you through this, whatever you might need.”

The vampire smiled—it was a weak smile, and it didn’t quite reach his eyes. But it was sincere nonetheless.

“Thank you, my love. Thank you.”

You remained in the bath until the water was cold. After tiptoeing over to the clothing chest naked to finally retrieve the towels to dry off, you cuddled up in bed together, your limbs entangled and his face pressed against your neck. His breath evened surprisingly fast as he slipped into trance and you too closed your eyes, holding on to him tightly until you were certain he had found peace for tonight.

[avocado-writing]

For the bg3 requests how about the companions realizing they love tav in the middle of a battle(love your work!!!)

partner piece to this!

Astarion

realises when he sees you cut down someone in battle to save him.

you don’t think twice about beheading the cultist, or shooting them full of a magic missile, or stabbing them in the guts from the shadows - whatever you do is equally wonderful.

his eyes go wide as he watches you make the killing blow. warm blood spatters on his face and, when you shout to ask if he’s alright, his heart does a funny little dance in his chest.

he’s alright. he’s the most alright that he’s ever been, actually

kisses you suddenly, the taste of the kill dancing between your lips, and stares at you very sincerely.

“I love you.” then back to the battle before you can press it any further.

Gale

if you’re a spell caster, he falls for you because of your capability using magic. you have a knack for it he finds delightful.

the twirl of your hands, soft speaking as you recite verbal components, all of it - it’s all perfect.

he stares at you, distracted for a moment, and then gets a club in the side of the head and is catapulted back to battle.

if you’re not a mage then it’s when you do something he taught you, silencing an enemy wizard by cutting them off when you realise a somatic component. you shoot him a thumbs up and he feels his whole face go bright red.

you listen to him. you care about him. and he loves you.

Wyll

you’re fighting back-to-back, fending off enemies as they charge towards you, yelling out directions for the other one to be watching.

“wyll! big guy on your left!”

he turns and stabs, running through an orc, and hears you laugh from the exhilaration of battle.

he realises then how much he loves you, how he’d never have any other life than this heart-pounding, blood-pumping excitement with you; and he’d do anything to keep you safe.

there’s no time for him to confess right now… but he does reach behind himself to give your free hand a little squeeze with his. just so you know. just so he can come back to it and confess later.

Karlach

raging, so it’s less her thinking through it and more a series of realisations which come to her all at once.

you: fighting. you: protecting. you: protecting her. you: capable. you: loveable.

oh, it all slips into place. she can’t do anything about it right now because her axe is buried in the face of an ogre, but after the battle when she’s calmed down she seeks you out.

is a bit awkward about it, finds reasons to be near you, but you manage to work out what it is she is desperate to say.

give her a kiss, and she squeals with excitement. she thinks you’re just perfect!

Lae’zel

ahh, lae’zel. would she fall for you at any other time?

has always watched your form in battle but there’s something about today, this fight. she can’t keep her eyes off of you.

you are flawless. perfect. dispatching enemies with ease.

she realises she feels not just fondness for you, but love. something she did not believe that she’d ever experience.

she is a little distracted and gets hit, but that just makes her focus back on the battle. you check in with her afterwards and she brushes you off, stomping away to go and mull her feelings over.

is… scared to confess to you. may do it one day. not today.

Shadowheart

runs over to heal you during a battle, your wounds are great, but you shake her off:

”you’re in far worse condition than me! heal yourself first!”

she realises how hurt she is for the first time. she sort of learned to deal with the pain as she was raised sharran, but… you’re the one who’s taken notice of her. nobody has ever done that.

suddenly she is overwhelmed with feelings for you. she’d been soft for you before, but now she is overwhelmed with emotion.

she does heal herself, and then you - luxuriating in the feel of your skin under her hands.

Halsin

he’s already fond of you, but the thing that really gets him is during one particular battle.

you’re fighting and he can see you’re doing your best to protect something behind you from your assailants. during a moment when an enemy is down he sees what’s behind you: a baby boar, terrified.

not the most pleasant creature, covered in mud and squealing, but you still are attempting to shield it from the battle, and when the fight is over he sees you use magic to talk to it and calm it down, check it over for wounds.

he realises how smitten he is with you in that moment. how much you care. you are perfect, and he wants to spend his life with you.

Minthara

probably falls for you during an act of violence, a particularly bloody kill.

you show no mercy to your opponent, opening them from throat to navel, eyes bright as you see them bleed out.

you are an angel of death, vicious and proud. you smile at your kill and minthara finds herself smiling too.

charming. you are charming, and that’s all there is too it. she smiles through the rest of the battle at the thought of you.

[feyascorner]

“I love you.” The first time he says those simple three words, he doesn't mean it. Not really. And he knows you're aware of it too, with the stern glare you give him in response to his smug grin. He's teasing you—or, it looks that way anyway. In reality, he hopes that there's a glimmer, a sliver of your heart that welcomes his enticing and open arms. It’s routine. A habit. It feels more natural to lure you in with songs of promises than to simply tell you what he needs. He hopes you take his hand and ignore the sharp nails digging into your skin. He hopes you fall.

“I love you.” The second time is months later. He thinks he might genuinely mean it this time, considering how heavy his heart feels in his chest as the words leave his lips. But it’s hesitant. You can tell. And ever so patient, you only smile at him, taking his hand this time to squeeze it gently. Ah, that feels nice. Does he love you? Have you grown on his cold, dead heart? The fact that he doesn't want to recoil from your touch is enough if an answer..

“I love you.” The third time is at his grave. He’s confident now. Feeling. Wanting. He wishes he could hold your fingers against his skin forever. He doesn't want to even let go, because he fears you might vanish into thin air, like every other caring thing in his life. You're good. Understanding. Nothing like him. You deserve better than him. But he's always been a selfish man, and even though your presence urges him to be better, he remains selfish when it comes to you. He doesn't--no, he won’t lose you.

“I love you.” He’d feared he would never get to say the words again. He had faith in you of course, but an Elder Brain is no easy feat to defeat. But as he watches the brain sink into the darkest depths of the sea, the others cheering behind him, he feels the sun begin to prick at his skin again. It stings. Gods, does it sting. For a moment, he wonders if he should even run. He's had a taste for the sun kissed glow and he's not sure if he wants to part ways with it if it means he’ll rot away in the shadows forever. But when he feels you hurriedly toss a cloak over his shoulder, covering his face with the hood just enough for him to meet your eyes, you offer him something he doesn't want to ever imagine himself without again. Something he’s still in disbelief he has. Someone to worry for him.

I love you, I love you, I love you. As years pass, the words become more frequent, yet they never lose their weight, no matter how they're said or when. It’s funny, really, how he'd almost feared saying the same exact words just a few decades ago. To Astarion, they remind him that you're still here, allowing him the privilege to let him love you as much as he does.

“I love you.” The last time he says it, whether it be after an untimely death or simply from old age, he’s holding your hand again. He hates that instead of the adoration it’s supposed to convey, he hears more of the wobble in his voice as he realizes his time with you is up. Even though he's said it so many times, he finds that it still wasn't nearly enough. Open your eyes, he pleads to nobody in particular. He breathes. Why is he breathing? He doesn't need to. But the breaths become faster, and he realizes he’s crying too. Curses, how immature. Ah, your hand is so cold, almost like his own. He hates it. Don't be like him. And when he begs, he begs. Squeeze his hand again. Touch him again. Smile at him again. Live again.

Let him love you again.

[triptanite]

Headcanons: night routines, cuddles, and sleeping positions with the companions

it's done! we did it! enjoy :3

Pairings: Reader X (Alphabetical) (Astarion - Gale - Halsin - Karlach - Laezel - Minthara - Shadowheart - Wyll) (Gortash - Raphael - Rolan)

Content warning/s: none

MASTERLIST

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Headcanons below

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The Companions (Alphabetical)

ASTARION

Something that may surprise you is Astarion's preference for personal space when he sleeps. Given how enthusiastically he pursues you early on (and his reasons for doing so), you thought that he would be clinging to your side as soon as your tent flap closed.

Instead however, you find that Astarion appreciates a very active goodnight cuddle before separating to sleep. You're both lying down on your sides, facing each other. Your bodies curl into one another, legs overlapping. Astarion traces over the silhouette of your body as you talk about your day, the softest touch of his fingertips bringing goosebumps to your skin. He hovers over the area where neck meets shoulder, lightly scarred from his previous feedings.

You rest your hand comfortably at his side, taking advantage of his stillness to really study his features. The smile lines in his pale skin, the length of his pointed ears, the sliver of collarbone under his shirt. He's constantly on the move during the day, so you drink in the details while you can. He debriefs to you as well, moving his hand to interlace his fingers with yours. His body is cool, and you notice his tendency to press up closer to you on to sap your body heat.

Once it's time for sleep, you untangle from each other and sleep pretty normally. He's not much of a sleep-snuggler. Though, with your nightly conversations you're not left necessarily wanting for more (not that you mind either way). You sleep in your regular position, and he on his back in the typical elven meditative pose. It's comfortable, safe, familiar.

GALE

Your nightly routine with Gale revolves around a lot of tending to the day's wounds and mishaps, paired with a constant flurry of comfortable conversation. A tear in your trousers gets patched up while staffs are cleaned and reinforced. Adjustments for tomorrow's spells are made, trails are planned. Gale sifts through your alchemy pouches, answering your questions about herb origins with gusto. You move as a unit, like two gears in the same machine. As you move about, there are other conversations occuring, subtle ones, silent ones. Gale presses his forehead to yours to stop you from scowling as you mend; you hand him bits of twine and leather as he passes by, knowing that he's looking for them.

Even as you lie together, there is movement. You're tucked under Gale's chin as he lays on his back. If you're quite still, you can feel his pulse in his neck. Gale busies his ever-moving hands by drawing on your back. Alchameic symbols, runes he's seen, trails you've walked. He illustrates his thoughts and your adventures, your body his canvas.

When you start to fall asleep, you'll wriggle your body down so that your temple rests atop his chest. He traces the curve of your neck to your shoulder. Gale switches to words, messily writing incantations over your skin like a tattoo. If you pay attention, you catch him writing 'I love you' over and over, but you elect not to say anything as he does. Before you tuck your arm around his side, you trace love hearts over his stomach. Your head over his heart, you feel it beat a little faster, then slow as you both fall asleep.

HALSIN

Halsin enjoys being present. He drinks in the sight of you slowly, revels in the ability to simply take his time. After living such a long life lived already and the turmoil of the Shadow-Cursed Lands, he has an even greater appreciation for the smaller things in life. You've not lived quite as long as he, but you've already seen and done more than seemingly entire villages of people. Time and circumstance has worn you both down to a point. Resilience bounces you back, but a healthy regular dose of affection helps too.

At night, you both sit close to the fire. Halsin whittles, chipping away slivers of wood to carve out tiny pieces of art. He looks up, stretching his neck, and watches you as you map the stars above. You scrawl over maps and spare parchment, trying to write and doodle down your memories lest you forget them. When you look over to Halsin, your eyes meet, and you chuckle a little being caught off guard.

Taking you by the hand, Halsin leads you to your shared tent. You undress him, taking your time to smooth his hair back, to run your nails over his biceps. He returns the favour, cupping your curves with his large palms, spreading warmth all throughout your body. He lays on his side in the bedroll, one arm bent and tucked under his head. You use this as a pillow, enjoying his scent so close; wood and musk. Halsins free arm drapes over your midsection to pull you in closer. You push your knee through his legs and you slot together like puzzle pieces. You begin to talk about your latest mapping, your need for more parchment, and plans for tomorrow. Halsin kisses you on the forehead, entire being relaxed. You'll sleep squished together like this, encompassed by heat and comfort.

KARLACH

Cuddle supreme. You bet that once that engine is pacified enough to touch that Mama K is all over you like green on grass.

Prior to this, Karlach was sure (if not overly cautious) about maintaining a healthy distance between you. She was excessively worried about setting you ablaze during the night, and often opted to sleep just outside of her tent while you claimed her bedroll inside. Her claims of worry were partially genuine, but she also enjoyed how you left her tent. The smell you lingered on her sheets, and you often left little things behind like a water canteen or a book you'd been reading.

Once her engine was quelled though, the things she imagined could finally come to fruition. You often cuddle facing each other, changing positions like the moon over the sky. Most comfortably, Karlach settles her head under your chin, face pressed up against your neck and chest. Her arms wrap all the way around your middle, her legs crossing over yours. You curl both arms around her head, trying to leave enough room for her to breathe, and use your free hand to run through her hair. When you start gently scratching over her scalp, you get a snoring Karlach in an instant.

You find that you need to leave the tent flap partially open to vent out some of the warmth; even the most frigid nights are no match for Karlach's body heat. With how impossibly close you're smooshed together, there's little room for the cold to find you anyway.

LAEZEL

Given her dedication towards training and being the youngest in the group, it shouldn't be a surprise that Laezel is quite inexperienced when it comes to affection. Before she met you, and even during, quiet intimacy is somewhat foreign. When you first explained what cuddling was, Laezel thought it was some kind of defensive grapple.

When you both settle for the evening, you find yourselves prepping in comfortable silence for the days ahead. Laezel counts rations and sharpens blades. You condition leather and secure packs. Sometimes, she admires you silently as you focus on your tasks. She smiles to herself at your willingness to help, your competence, she feels security in your choosing her as a partner. Once it's time to settle into your bedrolls, you spend a few precious moments facing each other. She grips your hands in hers and studies your face. She stares with such intensity that it's like she's trying to commit every freckle and line to memory forever. There is some truth to this. When she closes her eyes in peaceful moments, she meditates on the things in her life that bring her joy; her accomplishments, her goals, and you, her partner.

Laezel most often sleeps on her back, leaving her more ready to react to ambushes in the night. She refuses to let go of one of your hands though, with you acting as a kind of anchor for her. Laezel's mind is constantly buzzing with what's to come next, reflecting on what's already happened. It's rare, and precious to her, to indulge in quiet moments of care.

MINTHARA

For practical reasons, Minthana rarely falls asleep with her limbs restricted - it's much harder to stab an intruder if one of your arms is cuddled under your lover. A light sleeper, Minthana doesn't mind sleeping on her side with you. She enjoys being the big spoon, and is certain to let you know that it's not solely because of the protective factor as she deems you just as capable as she (though internally, there's certainly a reflexive protective factor at play here).

Before you sleep, Minthana will curl around you, pressing the entire front of her body to your back. She commits your scent to memory, and recalls the days events aloud. You hold one of her hands in both of yours, mostly paying attention. She enjoys the way you massage her hands, rubbing your thumbs against her wrist, testing the sharpness of her nails against your skin.

When it's time to sleep, Minthana untangles from you, laying on her back or side. She likes to know that you're there though, so she crosses one of her legs over yours in some way. Her ankle rests over yours, or your thigh against her hip, or even just your heels touching each other. Enough closeness to feel your presence, enough space to breathe freely.

SHADOWHEART

You and Shadowheart vary your nighttime routines. Most times, you'll be engaging in mutual and self care, reflecting on the day, prayer, and washing. You offer to brush through Shadowheart's hair, carefully working through knots and bumps and smoothing it into something comfortable to sleep in. The feeling sends tingles down her spine, and she shivers like a cat purring, feeling sleepier and sleepier. She, in return, examines your hands. She cleans over them with a warm washcloth, applying healing balms and ointments to your cuts and bruises, filing your nails to shape.

You both spend time setting and resetting your shared bed space. Being adventurers, and with Shadowheart's past, you're used to moving around often. Your bedroll, your belongings, everything is set up ready to pack at a moment's notice. Though, if you take the time you notice small personal touches that make it feel like yours. A dense hairbrush adorned in silver, Shadowheart's. A thick, hand-woven blanket made in fibre native to your home, yours.

When you begin to collapse from exhaustion, more often than not Shadowheart will settle in behind you. You don't mind being the little spoon, indulging in Shadowheart's body heat and mindlessly playing with her fingers in yours. Shadowheart enjoys pressing her face to the back of your neck, sharing your body heat. She feels somewhat protective of you in the night. Quietly, she worries every now and again that something in the dark will take you away forever. You sense that fear sometimes, the way she drifts off in thought before squeezing you a little tighter. It's a feeling you're not unfamiliar with. She falls asleep to the sound of your voice as you tell her of your adventures past. She dreams of your adventures together in the future; this is something you have in common.

WYLL

Wyll enjoys holding you close basically any chance he gets, and bedtime is no exception. You both keep a reasonable distance while doing simultaneous night routines: Wyll polishes and stores your days' weapons, you pack and prep bags for the next day. As you flit past each other, there are subtle passing touches. A lingering glance at your exposed shoulder, the tips of your fingers grazing against his night clothes. Some are less so, you rake your fingers over his hair and horns, pressing your faces together. Or he'll stand behind you as you wipe down your face, body pressed impossibily close to yours. He teases you about the blush that crawls up your neck.

As you lay together, Wyll finds that sleeping on his back with some tactically stacked pillows works best for his horns. You rest your head at his collarbones, holding his hand. It calms you to feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes, and you never pass up an opportunity to ask him about his seemingly endless adventurous stories. Wyll watches you doodle on his palm, his other hand holds you at your waist, occasionally slipping his hand under your nightshirt to caress your skin.

Lying on your side, you fold your leg over his. You relish in how he squirms slightly depending on where your thigh ends up. Revenge. Most nights, you both fall asleep just like this in each other's embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows and a light blanket, you fall into warmth. Comfort in the night that takes you away from the horrors of the day.

Bonus!

NPCs (Alphabetical)

GORTASH

Routine is something both you and Gortash appreciate but rarely achieve with your busy schedules. If Gortash gets a moment at home, you're out in combat. If you come back at a reasonable hour, he's in meeting after meeting. The one thing you try in earnest to maintain though is a nightly routine when your times do align.

You both debrief and undress, spewing out the stress of the day with little regard for whether it makes sense or how many tangents you go off on. Gortash stands at your back as you sit in front of your vanity. He loosens your hair while you clean your wounds, chuckling about the injuries you'd inflicted in reply. You take Gortash's hand in yours and sit him down on the mattress. You run your fingers over his temples and he melts like snow. His muscles are tight as you massage over his neck, his shoulders, leaving light scratch marks over his skin.

In bed, you both lie on your sides, facing the window. The night sky casts the dimmest light into your room, the air outside is quiet and still. There is respite here. You curl around Gortash's back, spooning him as he clutches your hands tight in his. This is your routine, your normalcy. Here, neither of you are bloodstained, neither are performing. Comfort is a strange and rare indulgence in your plights to take over the world; but whether here in your chambers, in a bedroll camping in the forest, or in a jail cell, it's the one thing you can find in each other.

RAPHAEL

Raphael is fond of studying you, examining every inch, every curve of your being with all the patience in the Hells. He's currently asked you to pose for a portrait, draped loosely along a red velvet chaise while the light of the outside world shines just right over your body. It's difficult to catch your face, your eyes especially, in paint. Raphael finds your eye contact far too inviting to concentrate for another quiet hour, so he ceases.

Placing his brushes down, you sit up and crack your neck. You stretch the stiffness from your limbs and extend your hands out to encourage Raphael to join you. He kicks off his dress shoes, climbing atop you with his knee inbetween your legs. His spine curves as he lowers down, lips brushing over your ear as he embraces you.

With some effort, you wrap your arms around him, smothered by warmth and the faint scent of sulphur. You do get used to it after a while. An open window allows a gentle breeze in the room, slowly drying the paint. The light diffuses through sheer curtains, and it makes you sleepy. Time is confusing and unruly here, but you crave a lazy afternoon (at least, that's how it feels) nap. Stroking the back of Raphael's hair, you relax back and close your eyes. Despite his reservations, Raphael soon joins you. His face stays buried against your neck, every breath embued with your smell. You're surrounded by each other, neither of you especially keen to move away.

ROLAN

Finding a place to sleep in Ramazith's Tower wasn't the difficult part, choosing where to sleep was. For the first few weeks, you and Rolan explored a great depth, you'd never climbed so many stairs and walked so many invisible platforms in your life.

One night, you'd decided rather adventurously to sleep up high on a balcony. You'd made a nest of sorts with Rolan, harvesting pillows and blankets and a mattress. The weather was clear and mild as the sky slowly turned to black. Rolan had set up approximately four hundred fail safes to ensure neither of you would fall in your sleep.

You both huddle down into the swathes of fabric. You remark to Rolan how different this was to the camps you'd slept in when you met him, or the Emerald Grove where he and his siblings had stayed. You face each other, legs interlocking, and Rolan places both hands on either side of your face. He remarks that it's to keep you warm but the air has barely a chill. You shift slightly to point out constellations in the sky, and Rolan's hands move downward and settle at your sides. He plays with the hem of your nightshirt, eyes affixed to wherever you point and gesture. The spell of night overtakes you both, and you fall asleep with your foreheads pressed lightly together.

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waa we did it gamers my first multi character piece!! Originally this was supposed to be a short and sweet dotpoint-style headcanons post but apparently I can't help myself. Because of how many characters there were to write and because I'm me it took a little longer than expected but I'm really happy

I've been committing myself to doing even just a little tiny bit of writing/creative stuff every day (with some gaps obvs I'm only human) and I gotta say it really does help

so if you're reading this, go write something. Or draw, or edit, or whatever but just do a little bit of something today. its good for the soul

take care! :3

[nerdburritos]

I'm starving, darling

summary: you and Astarion decide to play a little game of hide and seek.

pairing: Astarion/f!Reader | Astarion/f!Tav rating: 18+ (MDNI) tags/warnings: blood drinking, explicit sexual content, porn with plot, predator/prey, smut, bodily fluids word count: 2.5k read on ao3: I'm starving, darling

a/n: english isn't my first language so please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors!

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"I'm home, my treasure." You slowly rose from sleep as these sweet words were whispered into your ear. You had no idea what time it was or when excatly he came home from one of his important meetings he now had on his schedule nearly ever other say since slowly taking over Baldurs Gate.

It started quietly, in the shadows. Getting invited to important political events wasn't hard now, you were the heroes of Baldurs Gate after all, the rest was fairly easy. Astarion slowly slipped into politics, barely noticeable at first - advising here and there, helping out and funding the restoration of the city. Now he sat in the High Council of Baldur's Gate, slowly filling the remaining seats with his people - his personal puppets, dancing just how he liked. No one noticed how influential he actually had become at first, until it was too late. He had slipped into every important part of Baldur's Gate - politics, finance, jurisdiction.

He was no merciless leader but people respected and feared him and that's all Astarion has ever wanted. The Ascended Vampire, a creature of night being able to walk in the blazing sun, enter homes uninvited and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh - most people didn't even dare to question him, it'd be foolish anyways.

You opened your eyes slightly, seeing Astarion towering over you on the bed, caging you in with his strong arms, the soft black, satin blankets clinging to your frame. He was still wearing his outfit from his earlier meeting - a black doublet with gold embroidery and matching slacks, gods how you loved that outfit on him.

"Good meeting?" you asked while slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. Astarion immediately buried his head into your neck, breathing in your scent, placing gentle kisses over your collarbone.

"Mh-hm." he mumbled, still buried in your neck while he placed his hands on your waist, pulling yor body closer to him. "Such fools, all of them." Your gentle giggles were quickly interrupted by a moan as Astarion started to lick from your collarbone up to your ear, where he gently nibbled on your earlobe with his sharp fangs, making you shiver in anticipation - he was eager.

"How about some dessert?" Astarion whispered into your ear, making his way down your neck again, nibbling and kissing… he wanted to feed, obviously. You smirked, quite in the mood for riling him up a little.

"No." You simply said, grabbing his head and pulling him away from your neck. The look upon his face said it all - red eyes wide open in surprise, a mix of "what?" and "how dare you?" written all over his face.

"Oh, my love, your forget yourself. You're in no position to deny me. I know you want it, darling." Astarion whispered again in that deep, rumbling voice of his. You quicky jumped out of bed before he had a chance to pounce on you, making your way on the other side of the room, giggling like a little girl. Astarion smirked.

"Hmm, so you want to play a game, little love? Very well, I'll indulge you." He slowly unfastened the cufflinks on his doublet, sending you seductive looks - by the Nine Hells, this man was a vision. "So, how about this: you run and hide and I'll try to find and catch you. I'll give you a head start of 5 minutes, only within the palace, no gardens." He ran a hand trough his fluffy white curls and you nodded. "And when I catch you, you'll be all mine, like it's supposed to be." Astarions red eyes bore right into yours and you nodded. All his.

"Very well then, run off, my love. I'll see you soon." You immediately took off, running down the hall, figuring out where to hide. You knew the palace inside out but so did Astarion. You had to switch your hiding places after a certain time, that much was clear, you had to win! Astarion was a sore loser, so seeing the absolute disbelief on his face would be priceless. You suddenly heard the door of your shared bedroom shut in the distance, has it already been five minutes or was he cheating already?

You quickly hid in the old storage closet, it was fairly empty with the expetion of some old boxes and a few brooms, a bad hiding spot but it had to suffice for now. Astarion slowly made his way down the corridor, whisteling a gentle tune, already sure of his victory and thinking about all the delectable things he might do to you later. He continued to stroll down the corridor with his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks until he suddenly heard gentle movements from the laudry chamber next to him and smirked. How convenient. Sure it must be his little treasure inside, he ripped open the doors and stared right into the face of a shocked maid.

"Lord Ancunìn! How can I be of service?" she stuttered, right in the middle of folding the bedsheets, clearly not expecting his sudden appearance.

"Have you seen my consort, maid?" He snapped, already on edge. This was most embarrassing.

"I-i think Lady Ancunìn went further into the west wing, my Lord." Astarion slammed the door shut and made his way towards the west wing while you quietly removed yourself from the storage closet and headed into the opposite direction, quite sure of your victory but your inner celebration came to a quick halt as fast steps approached you. It was him but how? How did he know?

You quickly ran down the corridor and into Astarion's private study, the footsteps getting closer and closer. You were pretty sure that he used his vampiric powers to find you - that cheating bastard, he just couldn't bare to lose this silly, little game. The study didn't offer any good hiding spots either but you had no way out, Astarion was propably right behind you, you'd be running straight into his arms and you'd never hear the end of it. You slilently tucked yourself into a corner of the room, casting invisibilty just in time as the door swung open and Astarion stepped in, looking quite confused as the room appeared empty. He slowly shut the door, locking it - he knew you were still here.

"You can come out now, little love. There is nowhere to go." He chuckled, walking across the room and settling himself on the edge of his desk, leaning slightly back, waiting patiently - he knew the invisbility spell you propably casted was going to wear off soon. He proceeded to teasingly unbutton his doublet, eyes glancing across the room. By the gods, you wanted him but you were not ready to give up just yet, you still had about thirty seconds of invisibility left.

You quietly snuck to the door and teleported yourself out of the room - Astarion immediately noticed and ran after you, the doublet now open and his bare chest on full display. He saw you run across the corridor right in front of him as your invisibility slowly faded and let out a dark chuckle, he was enjoing this hunt massively. While your stamina was not bad, you were terribly aware that you could never outrun a Vampire, let alone an ascended one, Astarion was letting you get away with it, he was playing with you. You sprinted around the corner and came face to face with a wall, shit. You forgot that you closed off the entire wing that led down to the ritual chamber, only Astarion was able to enter and said Vampire was now right behind you, slowly getting closer and closer with a predatory smile.

"There you are, my little treat." You pressed your back against the wall, giving him a shy look, hoping you might get away with it. "Now, don't be coy." This was obviously not working, he seemed to be immunue to your charm so you had to beat him at his own game, that was your only hope now so you let him approach, playing the part of the poor, weak consort who just lost their silliy little game, his own damsel in the distress who needed a big, strong Vampire Lord to save her day. Astarion's protectiveness and his need to play your big, strong consort was a major turn-on for both of you. He loved to show off how powerful he was in comparison to you, knowing he could easily overpower but keep you safe anytime.

"Aww, don't pout." Astarion teased. "Don't you dare to give me an attitude now, my pet." He pressed you further into the wall, sure of his victory. You gave him a coy smile, placing your arms around his neck and Astarion was sure you were about to give in but you suddenly slipped down, crawling through his spreaded legs, freeing yourself and running away, laughing.

"Cheeky little pup." Astarion chuckled. "You want to play dirty? Fine, 'cause I love it dirty." He used his powers to teleport himself right in front of you, managing to elict a shocked gasp out of you.

"Cheater!" you yelled, ready to push him away but he immediatly grabbed your hands, pulling you into his naked chest.

"You're quite the insolent little pup today, my treasure." Astarion pushed you into the nearest wall, securing your arms above your head with one hand while the other made his way down your body, immediately cupping the sensitive spot between your legs - you let out a loud gasp. "My my, is this getting you all excited, my pet?" He leaned closer, whispering in your ear now. "Is this getting you all wet?" Astarion pushed his thigh between your legs, settling you down while still pressing you against the wall, making you whimper with need. He grabbed your hips and began moving them up and down his thigh, creating a dangerous friction between your legs and you let the most pathetic moan escape our mouth, Astarion laughed.

"Look at you, precious thing, you do want this." He gently nuzzled your neck, teasing the column of your throat with gentle kisses and the occasional suck while you continued to grind on his thigh, working yourself up more and more. Your sweet moans were nearly enough for him, he quickly freed himself from his slacks, giving his already hard cock a few gentle strokes while he continued to lick that delicious throat of yours. Your breath started to quicken, you were close and Astarion removed his thigh and pushed your dress up to your hips.

"By the Nine Hells…" he breathed as he saw your black thong, all lace, his absolute weakness. He deftly pushed the flimsy material to the side and ran a gentle finger through your folds, gathering some wetness before settling on your bundle of nerves, cicling it slowly.

"Oh Astarion…I'm gonna…" He immediately removed his fingers, one hand cupping your breast instead, gently teasing your hard nipple with firm, circling strokes of his thumb while the other one grabbed the base of your throat, applying gentle pressure, not enough to completly cut off your air supply but just enough to be noticeable.

"Oh no, my love, not yet." The hand teasing your breast moved downwards, grabbing his hard cock once more and slowly guiding himself closer to your aching pussy. He gently coated himself in your juices, letting the head run through your slit, teasing you and making you whine in anticipation before pushing just the tip inside of you. It took all of his strength not to take you hard and fast right now but he intended to drag this out, make you suffer.

"Astarion…fuck…." you whimpered, trying to move your hips closer to his, to slide him all the way inside but he kept you pressed against the wall.

"Tsk, tsk, good girls ask before they take what they want. You are my good girl, aren't you, precious?" he teased, gently cicling your clit with his thumb, biting his lower lip with his fangs on full diplay. You nodded vigorously. "Then tell me."

"Please…please, Astarion…"

"Please what, my love?"

"You've won! Please fuck me!"

"Well, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" He smirked arrogantly, placing gentle kisses on your neck again before finally sheathing his fangs into your throat and pushing his cock inside of you. Astarion moaned gently around your throat, sending shivers down your spine as he took generous gulps of your blood while pushing in and out of you at a tantalizing slow speed.

"That's a good girl." He felt your pussy flutter around him - gosh, the praise was really doing it for you and your blood began to taste even sweeter - your impending climax so close he could practically taste it.

"Fuck, you're being so good for me, my pet." Astarion took one more gulp before freeing his now blood-stained fangs from your neck, licking across the puncture marks to clean them. He now stared right into your eyes with his beautiful red ones, continuing his sweet, sweet praise while he slowly pushed in and out of you.

"You like that, don't you? The way my cock feels inside of you, like you were made for me." All you could do was moan and cling closer to him. "Fucking. Perfect." He slid out and pushed back in hard with every word, he was slowly losing control, getting closer and closer.

"Yes, my love, that's it." Astarion praised as he felt your pussy getting tighter. "Come for me." You saw stars as he started to tease your clit oh so gently once again and shattered around him. You felt yourself gushing, coating his cock with your release and blushed but Astarion seemed to quite enjoy it.

"Oh my pet, you've made such a mess for me, fuck…" His thrust were getting harder, sloppier, his breathing quickened. You placed your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer while resting your forehead on his, gently moaning.

"Please come inside me." You begged breathless, knowing this might send him over the edge. Saying that Astarion had a breeding kink might be far-feteched, he wasn't fond of children, he didn't even particularly like them, not to mention that a Vampire can't sire children, not even an ascended one but the thought of your pussy dripping with his release was enough. You pushed yur hips against his, helping him along and placed one of your hands on his defined chest, gently teasing his nipple.

"Oh fuck, little love, I'm gonna come…" Astarion's moan was the most beautiful thing on earth, you thought, you loved how vocal he was during sex, never above mentioning how good he felt or letting the occasional dirty talk slip in. Sex with Astarion was far from boring or vanilla. "Fuck." he nearly whimpered as he spilled inside you, his sloppy thrusts coming to a halt, his chest now pressed right on yours. You felt his hot breath on our neck as he buried is head into your shoulder, slowly coming down from his height.

You slipped your hands in his soft, white hair, slowly massaging his scalp and playing with his curls, feeling quite content and relaxed.

"Bath, my love?" he mumbled into your shoulder, already grabbing the back of your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms. You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you down the corridor.

[sinizade]

Izveta Noquar

Class: Rogue

Dark Urge (Evil but "redeemed")

Romance: Astarion (Ascended)

Besties: Why does she need friends if she has her own company? (Shadowheart is her bestie)

Being the youngest adopted daughter of the prestigious Noquar family in Menzoberranzan, Izveta was able to surpass the matriarch's biological daughters in any aspect, battles or manipulations. The drow had a natural talent for killing ever since she first held a weapon, the family's only concern about the girl was her constant conversations with a butler who seemed like only she could see, but often some other drow could see a small shadow next to her, almost as if whispering in her ear.

Her first love was the first person Izveta killed, a handsome young elf with beautiful green eyes almost the same age as her who was given to her as a gift by her mother. The young drow really thought he loved her the way she loved him, but she discovered the hard way that it was all just cruel manipulation for him to try to kill her and escape... What he didn't expect was that it would be a trigger for something cruel and bloodthirsty to awaken in Izveta who hunted him like an animal and slit his throat completely, leaving him unrecognizable...

Izveta ended up finding out from her butler that her sisters planned to kill her to reduce the matriarch's chances of choosing Izveta to replace her as head of the family. The young drow, possessed by anger and a feeling of betrayal, slew her sisters, showing them both to her mother like a trophy, but she didn't react as Izveta expected... The woman who raised her all her life tried to kill her and was once again overcome by hatred, Izveta killed her own mother, afraid of the reaction of the other drow, she fled to the surface where her butler constantly talks about a place she could actually consider a real home, where she would be accepted and loved for who she truly is

Getting used to the surface culture was one of the biggest difficulties for Izveta, not having males to satisfy her whims or soldies to do as she commanded was a reality check. The males on the surface were not as submissive and obedient as those who served her in Menzoberranzan and this ended up involving her in several fights in the places where she managed to stay, but it wasn't long until she finally found that place her butler talked about, her home, The Temple of Bhaal, the Lord of Murder... Her father. She didn't like her father's temple, it wasn't quite what she imagined as she thought it would be something grand like a castle or a fortress, but it fit with the cliche "I am a homicidal God"

Baldur's Gate was truly a lovely city, so full of light and life, Izveta simply loved walking through the dark alleys looking for some clueless person who would follow her wherever she took them, so that was when she met that dark-haired human man who He wasn't looking at her with fear, but curiosity and even perhaps admiration? Izveta didn't know for sure, but receiving that look after so long made her interested in knowing more about this human, knowing more about this "Enver Gortash"

The years after meeting Enver seemed to improve her mood. Izveta might have loved killing, feeling the hot blood on her hands, but she loved even more being pampered, receiving gifts, ordering and having her carpices supplied whenever she wanted and Enver made a point of doing all of this for her, giving some small gifts like rings, necklaces, masks... Izveta LOVES masks. Even though vanity is not something much used either in the Bhaal temple or by his followers, Izveta always loved simply beautifying herself, makeup, big jewelry, hairstyles for her long white hair, she loved spending minutes and even hours just beautifying herself with makeup or the blood of someone she killed. Enver managed to make her see him as an equal, not just an equal, a potential partner both with this strange plan with a "brain" and in bed, he had a thirst in his eyes, a thirst for her and she would quench that thirst every time he begged for her...

For some reason, losing her memories, even if it caused a certain frustration, at the same time caused relief... Being able to recreate her story without memories of the past to worry about

Some may think that Izveta redeemed herself by denying her "family heritage" by denying Bhaal, but her wave of chaos was just beginning. Astarion may think he controls her, that she is his beautiful spawn waiting only to receive orders from her lord, but something he doesn't even suspect is that he is right in the palm of her hand... A little flattery, a few whispers in his ear, a few touches on his chest and he does exactly what she wants and when she wants, he may not feel anything anymore or maybe feel, but the memories of the love he once felt for her are what give her power. Being a Bhaalspawn may have its advantages, but having the control of an ascended vampire lord was much better and as a vampire spawn everything is even more delicious, an eternity delighting in the death of whoever she wants and without any consequences... No There's nothing more she wants

Some extra information about Izveta

She loves white, she loves seeing the white of her clothes stained with blood, she loves seeing how her skin is highlighted while wearing white, she simply loves the color white.

She felt a little sorry for Orin, her little blood kin might be a kinda crazy, but she wasn't a bad person... At least not before her mother tried to kill her.

The only bad thing about denying her "father" was losing Sceleritas... Her butler, her true father... one of the few creatures she truly felt affection for

[moonselune]

I loved your one for the girlies! What do you think each of the guy’s favourite kisses to give and receive are generally? Ty!!

Okay I ended up making these ficlets because they ended up being too cute ! Thank you for your support !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The quiet of the library was broken only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional muttering of incantations. Gale, deeply engrossed in an abstract spell, was lost in his work. His face illuminated by the flickering light of the candles scattered across the table, casting shadows that danced across his features. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he manipulated the weave, his fingers moving with practiced precision.

You, on the other hand, had been watching him from a nearby chair, your gaze fixed on his focused expression. You couldn’t help but smile at how absorbed he was in his spellcasting.

Quietly, you slipped off your chair and approached him, your footsteps light and nearly silent. As you neared, you leaned in close, just enough for your breath to brush against his ear. Without a word, you pressed a quick, teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth, your lips barely grazing his skin before you pulled away.

The effect was immediate and unmistakable. Gale’s spell faltered, his hand momentarily freezing mid-motion. His eyes widened as he turned his head, his focus shifting from the intricacies of magic to the unexpected interruption. His lips parted in surprise, and he looked at you with a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

“Really?” he said, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You know how much I hate it when you do that.”

You couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across your face. “What can I say? I like seeing you get flustered.”

Gale set aside his spell components with a dramatic flourish, the frustration evident in his movements. His expression shifted from irritation to determination, and he pushed away from the table with a sense of urgency. He straightened his tunic, his gaze locked on you as if you were the most important thing in the room.

“You know,” he said, his voice taking on a teasing tone as he began to walk towards you, “I believe you owe me a proper kiss for that little stunt.”

You started to back away playfully, your laughter a soft, musical sound that echoed through the room. “Oh, do I now?”

Gale’s steps quickened as he pursued you, his usual grace turned into a purposeful stride. His eyes, normally so focused on the arcane, were now filled with a playful intensity. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm as he closed the distance between you.

Finally, he caught up to you, his hands gently cupping your face. The teasing glint in his eyes was replaced by a genuine, tender affection.

“You’ve made me wait long enough,” he said, his voice softening. “Now, how about that kiss you owe me?”

Before you could respond, Gale leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both passionate and impatient. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. His fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his earlier frustration melting into a deep, consuming affection.

When he finally pulled away, his breath mingling with yours, he looked at you with a satisfied smile. “See? That’s much better,” he murmured.

You chuckled, feeling a warm glow spread through you. “I’m glad you think so.”

Gale’s expression softened as he gazed at you, the playful edge replaced by a tender smile. “You always manage to get the best of me,” he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You rested your forehead against his, savoring the closeness. “And you always manage to make me feel special.”

Gale’s smile widened, and he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a comforting warmth. “That’s because you are special to me. More than you know.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

As night fell, the soft glow of lanterns cast gentle shadows across the room you and Astarion shared. The air was filled with a quiet intimacy, the kind that settled over you both after a long day. The bed was invitingly rumpled, the sheets disheveled from the evening’s earlier activities. You had just finished preparing for bed, and Astarion, ever the nocturnal creature, was lounging with a book, his pale fingers tracing the edges of the pages.

“Astarion,” you said softly, your voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room. “I’m heading to bed, but I see you’re still enjoying your book.”

Astarion looked up from his reading, his crimson eyes meeting yours with an almost theatrical nonchalance.

“Yes, well, some of us have a penchant for late-night reading,” he replied, his tone both playful and dismissive. “Sleep is highly overrated, don’t you think?”

You chuckled softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Suit yourself,” you said, your fingers brushing against his cool skin. “But I just wanted to give you a goodnight kiss before I go to sleep.”

Astarion’s expression flickered with something unreadable, but you knew better than to be deceived by his mask of indifference. You leaned in, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin at the top of his ear. The kiss was light, barely more than a whisper of touch, but it had a profound effect on him.

The moment your lips made contact with his ear, Astarion’s breath hitched ever so slightly. His body tensed, and for a brief moment, he closed his eyes as if savoring the sensation. His usual composed demeanor wavered, and he struggled to maintain his dramatic bravado. He set the book aside with an almost exaggerated flourish, his fingers gripping the edge of the cover as though it were a lifeline.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, attempting to regain his usual poise. “How very… touching of you.”

You could see through his attempt at nonchalance, the way his cheeks flushed a soft pink, a rarity for him. He tried to mask his reaction with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, but the slight quiver of his lips and the way he tried to suppress a grin betrayed him.

“It’s a favorite of mine,” you teased gently, your hand lingering on his shoulder. “I think it’s your favorite too.”

Astarion’s eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and vulnerability. He tried to look away, but the soft glow of the lanterns highlighted the way his usually sharp features had softened.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said, though his voice lacked its usual edge. “But, I suppose I do appreciate the gesture.”

You leaned closer, resting your forehead against his for a moment. “Goodnight, Astarion,” you whispered, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hesitated for a second before reaching up to gently cup your face in his hands, his touch tender despite his attempt to appear aloof. “Goodnight, my dear,” he said softly, his voice betraying a hint of genuine affection.

As you left the room to head to bed, you glanced back to see Astarion still sitting there, his eyes following you with a look of wistful admiration. The book lay forgotten on his lap, his attention clearly diverted. It was a small victory, but one that brought a smile to your lips.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The bustling market was alive with vibrant colors and sounds. Stalls were lined with exotic goods, and the air was thick with the mingling aromas of street food. The lively chatter of vendors and shoppers created a lively symphony that filled the open space. You and Wyll wandered through the market together, enjoying the array of wares and the lively atmosphere.

Wyll was particularly animated as he perused the various stalls, his gaze darting between the different items on display. His enthusiasm was evident in the way he examined trinkets and listened to the vendors' pitches. You found yourself smiling at his genuine excitement, his joy a comforting and familiar sight.

As you strolled through the market, you couldn’t help but notice how Wyll's focus was fully absorbed in his surroundings. His attention was so directed that he barely noticed the playful glint in your eyes. You decided it was the perfect moment to indulge in a little mischief.

You gently took his hand in yours, guiding him to a quieter corner of the market where the noise and bustle were slightly muted. Wyll glanced at you, a curious look on his face. Before he could say anything, you leaned in close, your lips brushing lightly against the corner of his jaw. The kiss was tender and teasing, lingering just enough to stir something in him but leaving him wanting more.

The effect was immediate and noticeable. Wyll’s breath hitched slightly, and he shifted his weight, a subtle flush creeping up his neck. His eyes, which had been so focused on the market, now softened as he looked at you with a mix of surprise and longing. He tried to maintain his composure, but there was a distinct shift in his demeanor—a mixture of frustration and desire that was palpable.

“You… you’re quite the tease,” he said, his voice coming out a bit more breathless than usual. His hand, still clasped around yours, tightened slightly, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your palm. You smiled innocently, enjoying the reaction you elicited.

“Just giving you a little something to look forward to,” you said, your voice soft and playful.

Wyll’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, and he tried to keep his gaze steady, but his eyes betrayed his thoughts. He took a deep breath, attempting to regain his composure.

“You know, you’re making it rather difficult to focus,” he said with a wry smile. His voice was a mix of amusement and frustration, his eyes following your every movement with a renewed intensity.

You could see the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw tightened slightly, his internal struggle evident. He was clearly trying to maintain his gentlemanly demeanor, but the kiss had left him visibly pent up and yearning. The way he looked at you with those smoldering eyes spoke volumes about his suppressed desire.

You gave him a reassuring squeeze of his hand, savoring the way he responded to your touch.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable,” you teased, leaning in to press another quick, teasing kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

Wyll let out a soft, almost frustrated sigh, the sound barely audible over the market noise. He looked at you with a playful yet yearning expression.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” he said, though his voice carried a hint of affection.

You laughed softly, enjoying the effect you had on him. “And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

He smiled, a mixture of admiration and impatience in his eyes. “I suppose not.”

As you continued to wander through the market, Wyll’s demeanor remained a bit more reserved, his mind clearly preoccupied with thoughts of you. The playful kiss had left him in a state of eager anticipation, and despite his best efforts to focus on the market, you could tell he was counting down the moments until you could be alone together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The camp was alive with the gentle hum of evening activity. Lanterns cast a soft glow over the scene as the day's tasks wound down. The scent of roasting meat mingled with the crisp evening air, and the crackling of the fire provided a steady rhythm to the background noise.

Halsin was deep in conversation with a few other members of the group, discussing the next day's plans. His tall form stood out among the others, his presence both commanding and calming. You were busy organizing supplies, focusing on ensuring everything was in order for the night. The two of you had been moving about, caught up in your respective duties, but you hadn’t lost sight of each other.

As you passed by Halsin, who was still deeply engaged in his discussion, you seized the opportunity to indulge in one of his favorite little moments. With a playful smile, you reached out and pressed a light kiss to the side of his shoulder, just above the sleeve of his tunic. It was a tender, fleeting gesture, one you knew he particularly enjoyed.

The effect was immediate. Halsin's conversation faltered for a split second as the touch registered. His gaze softened, and he excused himself, his arm instinctively reaching out to you. Before you could fully process his reaction, you felt his strong arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back against him with a gentle but firm embrace.

You barely had time to react before Halsin’s lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, his breath warm and tickling against your skin. His hold was both comforting and possessive.

"Always distracting me, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble filled with affection. His lips brushed against your neck, his breath creating a shiver that ran down your spine. You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

"Just keeping you on your toes," you replied, your voice playful but tender.

Halsin’s lips traveled to your collarbone, leaving gentle kisses that made you feel cherished. He nuzzled into your neck, his touch both soothing and electrifying. His arm tightened around you slightly, pulling you closer, as if he wanted to ensure you were entirely within his grasp.

“You have a way of making it impossible to concentrate,” he said, though there was no real frustration in his tone—just a deep, contented sigh. He leaned back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a soft, adoring gaze. “It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I’m glad you don’t mind.”

Halsin’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “Mind? How could I?” he said, his voice warm and full of sincerity. “You have a way of making everything better, even when you’re just walking by.”

You chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. “I suppose I’ll have to keep up the distraction, then.”

Halsin grinned, his gaze lingering on you with an unmistakable affection. “Please do. It’s the highlight of my day.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan:

In the dimly lit study, Rolan was deeply engrossed in his research. The soft glow of the lantern cast shadows on the walls, flickering as he turned the pages of an ancient tome. His focus was so intense that he barely noticed you approaching, a warm smile on your face as you prepared to head out to the market.

You walked over to him, the rustling of your clothes barely registering in his concentration. Gently, you placed a kiss on his forehead, your lips lingering for a brief moment as you wrapped your hands around his horns, holding them gently. The affectionate gesture was something Rolan cherished, and he always felt a wave of calm wash over him when you did it. It was as if, in those moments, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you.

As you pulled back, intending to leave, you heard a subtle rustling from below. Looking down, you saw Rolan’s tail curling around your ankle, its grip firm yet playful. His head remained bent over his book, but a mischievous glint in his eyes suggested he wasn’t as absorbed as he appeared.

“Please don’t go just yet,” Rolan murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of reluctance and affection. The tail tugged you gently, as if trying to anchor you in place.

You chuckled softly, kneeling beside him. “Why not come with me to the market?” you suggested, giving his tail a gentle nudge. “It’ll be more fun with you there.”

Rolan looked up from his book, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

“Well, I could magic up some food for us, save us the trip,” he said, a hint of playful defiance in his tone. You raised an eyebrow, remembering the last time he tried to do just that.

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, a note of exasperation in your voice. “Last time you did that, we ended up with a bunch of mud mephits in the kitchen for a week. It was chaos.”

Rolan’s eyes widened with genuine amusement at the recollection. He sighed dramatically, closing his book with a soft thud.

“Fair point,” he admitted, his tail loosening its grip. “Those mephits were quite the nuisance.”

With a resigned smile, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening as he watched you.

“Alright, go enjoy your market trip. But don’t be gone too long,” he said, his voice gentle and tinged with longing. “I’ll be waiting here, all on my lonesome.”

You stood up, giving his horns one last affectionate caress before turning to leave. As you walked towards the door, you glanced back to see Rolan’s gaze following you, a mix of longing and warmth in his eyes.Before you fully exited, you turned with a playful grin.

“If you’re good, I might bring you a treat,” you said, giving him a wink. Rolan’s tail gave a contented flick as he watched you leave.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he called after you, his voice carrying a note of affectionate amusement.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Raphael:

The House of Hope was bathed in a golden twilight, the soft light filtering through the ornate windows and casting intricate patterns on the floor. The air was filled with the lingering warmth of the day, a gentle contrast to the briskness of the evening breeze outside. You had just finished a conversation with Raphael, and as you glanced at the clock, you realized you were running late to meet someone important.

With a quick, affectionate gesture, you moved towards Raphael, leaning in to press a swift, tender peck to his lips. The kiss was meant to be fleeting, a simple goodbye as you hurried out. You had barely pulled away when Raphael’s eyes flashed with a mischievous glint.

In one smooth motion, he reached out and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him with a sudden, unexpected force. His lips found yours again, this time with a deeper, more intense pressure. You gasped softly at the sudden shift, your initial surprise quickly replaced by a mixture of frustration and delight.

Raphael’s lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate passion, savoring the taste of your kiss as if he were drinking in the very essence of you. His hands roamed gently over your back, guiding you closer and deepening the kiss. You could feel his warm breath mingling with yours, and the sound of your soft, reluctant protests only seemed to spur him on further.

“Trying to leave so soon?” Raphael murmured between kisses, his voice a velvety whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “You wouldn’t want to upset me, would you?”

You tried to protest, though your words were muffled by the intensity of his kiss.

“Raphael, I… I really need to—” Your sentence trailed off into a breathless moan as he pressed closer, his lips brushing against yours with a teasing insistence.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “But I enjoy these moments with you far too much. Surely you can spare a little more time.”

Despite your rush, the way he kissed you—full of hunger and playful dominance—made it hard to pull away. His lips moved with a practiced grace, the kiss growing deeper and more consuming as you found yourself caught in the pleasure of the moment. You pouted against his mouth, your cheeks flushing as his hands settled on your face, holding you gently yet firmly.

You tried to remind yourself of your pressing appointment, but Raphael’s kisses were so captivating that it was nearly impossible to focus on anything but him. His hands continued their gentle exploration, making sure you felt every caress, every touch.

When he finally pulled away, it was only slightly, enough to rest his forehead against yours and gaze into your eyes with a mix of satisfaction and affection.

“There, now,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Wasn’t that worth the delay?”

You looked up at him, your own breath coming in soft, uneven puffs. Despite the frustration you felt, there was no denying the warmth spreading through you from his touch and the way he made you feel cherished and adored.

“You’re impossible,” you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Raphael’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with a mix of triumph and affection. “And you’re mine. Now, go on—take care of your business. I’ll be waiting here, counting the moments until I see you again.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Some fluff to soothe our souls, I know that I've been doing a lot of Dark!BG3 recently so thought I would do something lighter, hope you enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Eat Your Young

Astarion and Tav take advantage of the rainy weather in camp. Pure smut, no plot.

Pairings: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, swearing. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Listen, usually I like a lil plot but Astarion sometimes deserves just some good ole smut, right?! Also inspired by the Hozier song, "Eat Your Young"

REMINDER: my inbox is open for requests!

Astarion's hand roughly ran down your neck, the candles in his tent casting shadows over the space. He hissed in pleasure as his fingers gracefully found your collarbone, his nails tickling the skin around your neck. You groaned, your eyes fluttering closed.

"This is not what I came in here for." You said, even though you knew that was a lie.

Well, partly.

Basically since the beginning of your adventure with the companions, you and Astarion had found yourselves drawn to each other. First as friends, but then quickly into a sexual situation. A way to satiate yourselves, and to have a bit of shining light in the darkness that was all the doom and gloom and battle and blood.

"Oh?" Astarion asked, his mouth dangerously close to your neck, "And what did you actually come in here for?" His voice was melodic, almost a purr. You felt his fangs lightly drag across your neck - enough to leave a scratch, but not enough to break skin. You gasped.

"F-for the book," You were able to choke out, one of your hands finding his hair. You ran your fingers through his locks, earning a quick moan from Astarion, "The book I lent you last week. I know you're done reading it, so-"

"You came all the way across camp in a rain storm for a book you could easily get from me tomorrow?" He pulled away, his eyes twinkling. It was bullshit, and he knew it. "Is that why both of our clothes are off, and were discarded on the floor within 45 seconds of you coming into my tent, my pet?"

"Um..." You bit your lip and both of you smiled, "I'm easily distracted." You tried to argue, but Astarion's lips were on you again, his tongue quickly finding yours. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed his body on yours, his erection pressing into your stomach. Thunder clapped outside, causing you to jump, which caused Astarion to wrap his arm around your back tighter, bringing you closer.

"What do you want, my darling? Tell me," He pulled away from your mouth, but his lips were still touching yours. Your heart pounded in your chest from his breath on your face, "Tell me what you want." His voice was velvet smooth, causing your stomach to clench. You groaned, unable to stop yourself - how did this fucking man know exactly what to say, and exactly what to do to get you going?

"I want your cock in my mouth," You said quickly, it coming out as one breath. His eyebrows raised and he smirked, wordlessly pushing himself to the edge of the bed to give you space. Looking down at his erection, you felt a wave of heat rush to your clit, unable to contain yourself.

Before he could even lay down, your mouth was on his cock hungrily. He moaned in surprise, his voice echoing off the tent walls. Immediately your mouth filled with spit as you worked on his thick member, using your tongue the exact way you knew he loved. His hands found their way into your hair and pulled, causing you to grip the blankets underneath your hands.

"Hells, you're so fucking good," Astarion grumbled, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, "Deeper." He commanded.

You made your way fully down on his member, causing his hips to buck in your mouth. You felt your eyes water a bit, and pulled up, taking your mouth completely off of his cock. "Does that feel good?" You toyed, pumping him in your hand. He moved his head back to look at you, his eyes a deep red. You watched the end of his mouth turn up in the shadow of a smile.

Suddenly, the rain started to beat harder against the tent walls.

In one swift movement, Astarion's hand grabbed your chin, pull you on top of him. His member, slick with your spit and precum, slid against your body, causing you to gasp. He looked between your eyes before hungrily crashing his lips against yours again, this time pulling your hair roughly.

"Not as good as it'll feel when I'm inside of you." He said in your ear, before biting your lobe. You moaned loudly, the noise getting lost in the rain.

"Then fuck me."

"Say please."

"Please, Astarion! I need you."

"You need me to what?"

"To fuck me. I need your dick inside of me." You reached down to his cock and started to pump him again, causing Astarion to erupt a small moan from his lips. He looked into your eyes one final time before he flipped you below him.

"On your stomach." He said, waiting patiently. He was sitting high up on his knees, looking down on you. Now, his cock was in his own hand and he stroked it slowly, taking the full length of his member in his palm. He didn't break eye contact as you got on your belly. Soon, you felt him spread your legs gently, and his body weight pressed on top of you.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, you'll be screaming to the gods by the end of it." He murmured in your ear. You shuddered at his voice, and soon you felt him lining himself up at your entrance.

"Oh, Astarion..." You breathe, your thoughts becoming a jumbled mess. You heard him chuckle before he continued on.

"Are you ready?" He asked. You felt like you couldn't speak, your stomach was so clenched in anticipation. You nodded, and almost instantly his cock was deep inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body. You called out, lifting your head. As you lifted your head, Astarion took hold of your hair and pulled.

"Gods, you are so fucking tight." He groaned, every word accentuated by a thrust inside of you. You clapped you hand over your mouth so you wouldn't cry out, but he pulled it away, "Don't. I want everyone to hear."

"Fuck, Astarion!" You called out, his hands finding your hips for better leverage. You felt a heat start to rise within you, causing you to breath harder. "Don't stop! Right there-"

"Right there?" He purred, his voice teasing, "Right there and I'm going to make my good girl come?"

"Yes!" You moaned, his voice ripping through you, "Yes right there and I'm going to come. Don't stop!"

The sound of his cock pounding into you filled the tent as your mind became foggy. The pleasure started to soften the sides of your vision as Astarion gripped your hips, definitely leaving marks for tomorrow. As your words turned into incoherent noises, you felt Astarion thrust into you harder, making sure you felt filled.

"Show me you're a good girl," He murmured, his voice steady; in control. As Astarion often was - in control. It drove you crazy, usually the catalyst in tipping you over the edge. "Be my good girl and come for me."

Finally, you felt yourself spill over him as you cried out his name - the heat rose completely in you and for a moment, Astarion stopped thrusting in you, taking his hands and wrapping them around your waist, so that he could feel your orgasm completely. With your head so close to his, he whispered words of praise in your ear - "Good girl. That's it - come for me. Let me feel it. Give me all of it."

You panted, your thoughts finally starting to align again. As you regained control of your body, Astarion gently flipped you over. Spreading your legs open, he entered you again slowly, earning a whimper from you. Two thrusts in and he caused you to throw your head back, crying his name.

"That's it - that's my girl," He hissed, speeding his thrusts up slowly, "Let me see that pretty face, darling. Your pretty face is going to make me come."

"Astarion, FUCK. You feel so good!" You couldn't help yourself as he started again, one of his hands finding it's way to your erect nipples. He pinched and palmed your tits as they bounced with every thrust - the sight of your body bouncing, and your face calling his name, he wasn't far behind you with an orgasm. But, he wanted it to last...

He wanted to wear you out.

It was always so sexy seeing you struggle in the following days, knowing that he alone was the cause.

"Your cock...feels so good..." You panted, your hands finding their way to his shoulder blades. Thunder clapped again, drowning out the scream you cried as Astarion hit your spot. Once he realized how crazy he was driving you, he smiled.

"All for you," He grunted, "This cock is all for you." Sweat beaded at his temples as he stared into your eyes. They were dark, hungry - he started to get the glint in his eyes that he would before he was sent over the edge.

Astarion pounded into so hard that the bed groaned under the pressure. You could feel Astarion's body start to tense above you, so you gripped Astarion's ass, pushing him deeper into you.

The extra effort made you start to see stars, and Astarion was on the same page; "I'm close," He grunted, touching his forehead to yours, "Hells, you're going to make me come."

"Come for me," You breathed, placing a sloppy, rough kiss on his lips, "Come for me."

Suddenly, Astarion called out your name, and you felt him spill into you. The tension in his body reached his climax and gradually released, his body laying completely on top of you.

The only noise in the tent - besides the pounding rain - was your and Astarion's breathing. The shallow, quick breaths turned into deeper, heftier breaths and you regained your composure, the heating slowly leaving your body.

"Gods, you're beautiful." Astarion murmured, brushing your sweaty hair behind your ear gently. He delicately placed a kiss on your lips as he slid down to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you tight. You sighed contently, running a hand over his side and snuggling your head closer into his shoulder. A moment of silence passed before you spoke.

"I did actually come here for that book, you know." You teased, causing him to chuckle.

"Oh? Would you like me to go get it for you then?" He asked, pretending to get out of bed. You giggled and gently pushed him back down.

"Shut up," You playfully scolded him, "I just wanted to let you know that I didn't just come here to seduce you."

"But darling, it's so much fun getting seduced by you." He looked at you and smirked, his eyes sparkling. You rolled your eyes and placed a kiss on his mouth.

"Well...I guess I'll have to let you borrow my books more often, then."

------

My first time doing smut with no plot - I'm gonna be honest, I don't know how I feel about it yet! What did you all think?

Just a reminder: my inbox is open for requestions!

[ayselluna]

Spawn Astarion Recommendations!

So I heard you guys want Spawn Astarion Recommendations too! I heard you :) Apologies if it took awhile it got hard to compile everything I read.

I honestly have read more one shots Spawn Astarion than series tbh. but here are some series I love! These are Astarion x Tav / You / OCs following the story from the game! I'll be happy to make another list for AU's! Another Ascended list is on the way too~ :))

I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND FOLLOWING THESE WRITERS TOO as they have really great HCs and One Shots!

The Arrangement by @fangswbenefits - This is one of the first ones I've read and how she wrote Astarion is just so ASTARION! The lines, the slow burn and the smut are exquisite as hell. I do suggest reading her oneshots too! Her smuts are so good I suggest reading it ALONE. XD ONGOING!

The Fangs Between Us by @feyascorner - Not your typical Lovey-dovey Astarion and Tav. Astarion actually felt betrayed and actually tried killing you! Can love still blossom? is it still there? Would you guys even be friends?! So much angst and but oh so goooood! ONGOING!

Shadows of the Past by @pastshadowsff-blog / PallidMoon - What's an Astarion story w/o the angst? I would definitely be devastated the moment Astarion left me! The process of healing and loving, the confrontations here are soooo on point! Have a good gale on the side too~ ONGOING!

Love at First Knife by @bg-brainrot - DEFINITELY A FAVORITE! Aside from the romance from Astarion and TAV you get the WHOLE GANG TOO! I'm a sucker on everything on this series! I can't count how many times I've re-read this while I wait for my other fics to update. ONGOING? I'm not sure but it gets updated!

When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by @bg-brainrot - okay another one from the same author, at this point just read everything!! okay, but what if TAV died and got reincarnated?! If you got an elf TAV this is definitely one for the books! I LOOOOVE this one a lot. Getting your memories back and seeking your lover out, would it be the same? Would he even remember you?! Surely he will right?! but what if he don't? hmmmm READ IT! ONGOING!

Astarion Talks In His Sleep by  @littlejuicebox - This is a short series but this was just memorable coz WE'LL LOVE EVERYTHING in it. It's one of the happy endings you'd totally wish for and how this story got me gasping and giddy was just chef's kiss! You'll love her DADSTARION series too! I LOVE THIS FAMILY A LOT. :))

Cursed To Put My Hands On Everything by @maladaptive-menace - I recently found this and I got hook immediately on the concept! I also love the titles on this series, as the title says~ :)) So imagine you're doing your mundane things IRL and one tiring night you found yourself Isekaid IN the GAME?! You know you're effed up, how would you survive?! well at least you got your dream come true of meeting the gang in the flesh…specially the Pale Elf~ ONGOING!

Winter Holiday Challenge Fills by @justporo - So this is an all fluff from the Winter Holidays! I know it's not christmas anymore but if you missed it during that time who cares?! READ IT! Get all the fluffiness you need from this series! Check that full masterlist on their profile too while you're at it~ :)) FINISHED!

The Currents of Destiny by @lendeah - You and Astarion fights after he didn't go with the Ascension, left and scorn you to die screaming! But what if he sees all the what if that could happen?! Would his decision stay the same? FINISHED!

An Adventure in Making a Life by @redlittlefoxari - okay something different but maybe a PREGNANCY fic anyone? :D This was one of the fastest story I binged! You both just learned you're pregnant but an invitation from a friend comes forth! Maybe keep it a surprise for the gang? How would this pregnancy on the road takes you? ALSOOOO FREAKING LOVIING HUSBAND ASTARION UGGHH i can't~

I have more authors to recommend but we'll keep this list for now! I urge you to follow these authors too and check their other works.

Let me know if you guys are up for more recommendations! I have more to share! <3 Hope you enjoy reading them as I did! More reading buddies!

[sserpente]

Magic Hands

Synopsis: Astarion teaches you how to use a dagger in battle. The sweaty training calls for a bath in the nearby river afterward and you can’t help but admire the vampire rogue in the pale moonlight, surrounded by the glistening water surface. He seems… tense. Perhaps you can repay him by giving him a gentle massage?

A/N: Why did this take me so long to write, oh my gods! :D

Words: 2038 Warnings: smut, mentions of sexual trauma

Your battle cry echoed across the entire campsite when you plunged your blade forward. Lae’zel’s makeshift mind flayer dummy was rendered with holes at this point, oozing hey from several rips in the old fabric she had used to craft it.

The impact had you sway to one side and you shifted your weight, your left arm flailing about clumsily.

“Good. Now try that again without losing your balance.”

You grunted, shooting him an angry glance. He had his sleeves rolled up, and his arms crossed before his chest. It was almost distracting. Almost.

You had been at it for hours. Granted, it had been your idea—if you were going to survive this involuntary adventure, you might as well learn how to defend yourself. You were surprised you’d even made it this far. And, since attacking from the shadows was much more your cup of tea than storming headfirst into battle like Wyll or Lae’zel, you’d kindly asked Astarion to help you out.

He was a tough and strict teacher, you had to give him that. But you were making quick progress too. Before today, you hadn’t even been able to hold a dagger properly.

You withdrew your weapon and returned to your original position.

“Ah-ah-ah. No, darling. What did we just learn?” His teasing voice went down like butter. That was even more distracting.

Astarion pointed at your left foot. You shifted in the dirt, creating a grovelling noise.

“There we go. Now try again.”

You did as you were told, lunging at the dummy once more. Astarion tutted at you when you lost your balance yet again.

“Hey, don’t tut me!”

“I see where the problem lies now. Go on. Get back in position.”

Grunting once more, you obeyed. What you were not prepared for, however, was that he would step right behind you and place his hands on your stomach and waist. You sucked in a deep breath, tensing up.

“Keep tension here. You’ll want to make sure that lovely core of yours keeps you on your feet.”

Memories from your night in the woods came flooding back, sending you down a spiral of pleasure and arousal. You cleared your throat.

“Okay. I got it. I think.”

The sensation of loss was nearly overwhelming when he let go again. You could have sworn you saw him smirk from the corner of your eye.

You got into position again, took a deep breath, and… struck.

“Good girl.” You would have dropped the dagger had it not been lodged deeply within the mindflayer dummy. “Again.”

Again. Again and again and again until Astarion was certain you got the hang of it. Your arms were burning by the time he clapped and finally let you off the hook for the day.

“Be honest, you’re enjoying this a little.”

The vampire smirked. “More than just a little, darling.”

Heat crept up your cheeks, forcing you to bite your lower lip. “Whatever. I should get washed.”

“Hmm, so should I.”

You offered him a smile. Making your way toward the lake, you walked past Lae’zel who was sharpening her sword, Karlach who was dancing to a song only audible to her, and Gale practicing little magic tricks. Wyll and Halsin were with Shadowheart, talking and drinking by the fireplace.

You sighed. It could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the imminent threat of a tadpole turning you all into thralls.

Once you reached the shore, there was no hesitation in your movements. You stripped off your clothes, knowing the bushes would hide you from unwanted eyes. As for Astarion… well… there was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

The vampire followed suit though you did notice that he avoided your gaze as he undressed. You couldn’t help but watch him regardless as he waded into the water until he was submerged hip-deep.

“You look really fine in the moonlight, you know that?” you said, joining him swiftly.

“Of course I do, I’m a vampire, darling.” He swam closer to you, allowing you to wrap your entire body around him. Astarion’s hands found your behind, squeezing gently.

“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered. His lips were cold when you met them with yours, a playful kiss soon turning into a passionate display of affection.

By the time you finally broke apart panting, Astarion rolled his shoulders with a groan.

“Is everything alright? You seem even tenser than me.”

“Oh well, it can’t be helped. Must be the weight of being a hero on my shoulders,” he spat with dismay. Oh yeah… he’d made it clear his interest in saving the refugees was ridiculously small. You had your theories on that… yet there was no way in the hells Astarion was a terrible person but rather… a person terrible things had happened to. The scars on his back spoke for themselves.

“I could help with that if you want,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“Help? How?”

“This is gonna sound silly but I used to work as a massage therapist for a few years, back in Baldur’s Gate, I mean. I have magic hands. I know a lot of techniques to relieve back pain and back tension…” You trailed off, studying his reaction.

“Magic hands?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and somehow, you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Relieving a different kind of tension at your celebration with the Tieflings was one thing… having someone work his back and stroke every inch of exposed skin with skilled hands, right over the scars that had brought him so much torment… that was another.

“You want to… well… I…”

“If you want to?”

“Well… I suppose…”

You tilted your head. He wanted to accept, you could tell. But was that… concern glistening in his red eyes?

“You know, I’m, uh… I’m not offering this to have sex with you again. I mean… I really, really enjoyed myself, Astarion but… I honestly feel like that’s the reason you’re being wary, isn’t it? Along with me, um… touching your scars.”

His lips parted.

“I just want to help. And only if you’ll let me.”

“Alright… fine.”

You nodded, the tension you didn’t realise had been building up inside of you leaving your body.

“Then come find me in my tent later.”

You left him some privacy after your swim, returning to your makeshift home to find anything you could use as a massage oil. You settled for an ointment in the end, one that Halsin usually used to treat wounds. It would do. You could hardly use a bottle of grease after all.

You were rather certain Astarion waited until the others were asleep on purpose. When he parted the fabric of your makeshift door and crouched down a little to come inside, you patted your bedroll and smiled at him.

His coyness was adorable. While before his heart-breaking confession, every single word that had left his lips was a flirt, he was but a frightened young man now, intimidated by intimacy.

“Lie down, my love. And… Astarion?”

His red eyes met yours as he followed your request and removed his shirt, once again revealing those horrifying scars to you.

“You need to stop me if you’re feeling uncomfortable, alright?”

The vampire spawn smirked. “How could I possibly feel uncomfortable with your skilled hands dancing over my body, pet?”

“You know what I mean.” You grinned, relieved that his smarm was not lost on him.

“Of course.”

“Now lie down on your belly and close your eyes.”

Astarion sighed and did as he was told. You straddled him, trifling some of the oil on your hands and rubbing them together before eventually… placing your palms on his bare back.

Your fingers glided over the ridges of his scars, your thumbs digging into the muscles, looking for any tension. You found it all too quickly, working knot after knot out of his tormented back.

Soon enough, he relaxed. His sigh was so innocent you couldn’t help but lean forward and place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.

You pampered him for a while, making sure to massage each and every spot on his back. You did not fail to miss the faint moan when you asked him to turn over so you could work on the rest of his body. Gods, you were enjoying this even more than he was.

Astarion’s gaze was filled with repose and… hunger. And when your eyes travelled further down, your lips parted and you realised why.

He was hard.

“Do you… do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t… you… dare…” he muttered, eyes half-closed still.

You bit your lower lip, oily hands gliding over his chest. It wasn’t just him. You were as wet as the river you’d bathed in just a few hours back and now that you were aware just how much your sensual treatment affected him, the arousal was nearly unbearable.

Breathing heavily, you swallowed and paused.

“How about… I have an idea.”

He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh?”

His sly smirk caught you entirely off guard though you were unsure whether he was merely trying to hide his insecurity behind it. He’d told you he didn’t want you to think of him in terms of sex for now and you would respect that wish. There was no need for you to act on your own excitement even if it drove you insane. But if he let you… you wanted to make him feel good so badly that it almost caused you physical discomfort.

“I could… take care of… that,” you muttered, pointing at the growing bulge in his trousers.

Astarion raised his eyebrows, passion glistening in those red eyes.

“Let me pamper you. No sex. I might as well give you a… full body massage at this point. And if it gets too much, you stop me.”

“We… we could try.” He nodded, lying back down but keeping his eyes wide open as you opened his trousers with gentle movements and pulled his erection free.

Astarion flinched when your oily hand wrapped around his hardening length, fingertips teasing him tenderly.

“Okay?”

He nodded.

“I need you to tell me with words, my love.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “Okay. That feels… nice.”

One thing you realised very quickly was that he had never experienced anything like this before. Someone who wished for nothing more than to bring him pleasure, to make him feel good, without expecting anything in return. To give him back his sensuality where only he and his well-being mattered without his body being sexualised or objectified…

It must have been such a novel concept to him… biting your lower lip, you began to stroke him with firm yet tender touches, your thumb gliding over his slit and rubbing over his tip.

He squirmed, bucking his hips in response with a quiet moan. It was enough of a reaction to urge you on, your movements quickening and adapting to his rapid breathing.

You paused when he uttered your name with a start.

“No… no, don’t stop, my love… don’t you dare stop…”

So you kept going, driving him to the edge with hungry ferocity. Gods, he looked so delicious. So carefree and innocent all because of you…

“I… I… I will…”

Astarion thrust up into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Pleasure flushed his entire face, his lips parting. He tensed up, his thighs shaking and his fingers clutching at the soft material of your bedroll. He came all over your hands and knuckles, ropes of seed clear evidence of his release. You helped him ride it out, squeezing every last drop from his pretty cock until he was spent and panting, his body relaxing again bit by bit.

“You look so beautiful when you come undone…” you whispered, wiping your hands on some rags you kept nearby.

He chuckled. “And you do have magic hands. I might have to ask you to do that again soon.”

You smiled, cuddling up to him with a smile. Neither of you bothered to get undressed completely. You were perfectly fine with falling asleep like this.

“Anytime, Astarion. Always.”