#i need to give my tav better eyebrows

[solvaldezart]

I finally got my drawing tablet working with my new computer, so here have a MS Paint sketch of my dnd/BG3 character Izz since I havent downloaded Clip Studio yet

[bg-brainrot]

The Thousandth Time (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Summary: Astarion and Rogue!Tav make love for the thousandth time. In a bathtub.

Tags: Smut, Slice of life, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, bathtub sex, sloppy sex, seriously just sickeningly sweet smut, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Domesticity is romantic, Hand Jobs, Blood Drinking

A/N: Some context-- I wanted to write soft, gender neutral smut. And by the gods is this soft. I tried to look at what it's like to love someone for so long. In my experience, when you've been with someone for so many years, you still find a lot of love in the little things. which I hope I hit? Anyway, enjoy!!

Word count: ~5.3k

The thousandth time you make love to Astarion, you don't know it's the thousandth time.

It's a day like any other, really.

After a long day at the guild, you've arrived home, a sigh on your lips, a furrow to your brow.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?"

You compose your expression and turn toward your lover. "Astarion," you start, a reflexive wistfulness to your tone. Gods are you glad to see him after a day like today. "Nothing is the matter. Nothing important anyway. Simply glad to be home."

Astarion gives you a look that says he doesn't quite believe you, but knows better than to pry too deeply into issues you'd rather not bring home. "Very well, darling. But you know I'm all pointy ears. Especially if Nine-Fingers has been difficult again."

"Ugh," you say, wincing in annoyance. "Do not say her name right now."

The vampire gives you a bright, toothy laugh. "That bad, eh?" You nod. He walks toward you, arms outstretched. "Mmm in that case, shall we call it an early night tonight?"

You dive into the comfort of his arms, holding him to you, inhaling his fresh, familiar scent. It feels like the day's troubles melt in his cold embrace, and the tension in your body finally relaxes. "That might be nice."

"Dinner first?" he asks, pulling away from you slightly.

You look into his warm crimson eyes, feel that same warmth reflected in your face. Of course, he’d check to see if your mortal needs have been met. "No need, I've eaten. How about you?"

Astarion brings a hand up to inspect your face, this way, then that. It’s as if he’s examining you for injury, not assessing if he can partake in a bit of your blood. "Mmm, you seem a tad tired, love."

"You know I'll manage. Besides, get my blood while it's still boiling with rage," you say, craning your neck for him in response.

"As delectable as that sounds,” he begins, letting go of your face, tracing his fingers along your neck. “I think a bath and bed ought to come first."

You want to argue the point, make sure he's fed to the best of your ability, but the yawn that escapes you is irrefutable. With nary another word, his hand is on the small of your back, guiding you toward the bath.

"Would you like to join me?" you ask him as you open the door. Your expression is calm, the question harboring no hidden intentions. Any other day, you may have raised an eyebrow at him suggestively, begun taking off your armor in a tease– but you're tired, simply not wanting to relinquish the feel of his arms around you.

"Certainly, if it keeps you from falling asleep in the tub…" he trails off, looking at you warily. He appears torn, somewhere between keeping you from drowning and keeping you from resting.

You give him a wry smile. “Imagine that. After felling all manner of beasts and men, finally succumbing to the tub.”

Astarion offers you a reluctant smile in return. “My love, I swear to every god above and below, if you die in any manner even remotely that ludicrous, I shall have to pretend not to know you at your funeral.”

“That’s fair,” you say, holding a hand out to him. “Best to make sure that doesn’t happen then, don��t you think?”

The man can’t argue with that, nor does he seem to want to. After an entire day away from each other, this closeness is exactly what the two of you crave. So he takes your offered hand, and follows you into the bathroom.

It has been years since you had added a tub big enough for the two of you in your house. While the two of you had accrued wealth enough for an entire bathhouse, you’d settled for a more modest setup. At least, modest in Astarion’s eyes.

The floor is made of the finest marble tiles, the walls of intricately laid and patterned brick. And in the center of the room, is the room’s main attraction: the enormous, magical tub. It’s long enough that you could comfortably lay down across the entire bottom, wide enough that you have to extend your arms to reach both sides. The outer edges are infused with enchantments to improve your bathing experience, and the tub itself is made of the highest quality crystal that gold can buy.

Once you enter the room, you activate the heat and water sigils along the basin’s edges and turn back to Astarion. “Would you mind grabbing some soaps from the shelf?”

He gives you a lopsided grin, eyes crinkling with amusement, but still moves to do as you ask. “Would you also like me to bathe you while I’m at it?”

“Oh, would you?” you ask half-joking. You begin to strip your armor off, piece by piece.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, picking out a few of his preferred scents from a shelf on the wall. He’s accumulated quite the collection now, enjoying mixing and matching as his nose guides him. “That could be arranged.”

You’re almost halfway through your armor when he returns, bottles of lemon, bergamot, and sage soaps in hand. “Ah, you know how much I love bergamot,” you say, smiling at it fondly, pausing halfway through undoing your leather straps.

“I know,” he says, placing them next to the tub before turning his attention fully to you. “I also know that you need help with that armor or we may be here all night.”

Holding your arms out wordlessly, Astarion starts to unbuckle each and every strap from the front of your padded armor. As he releases you from its confines, you take a deep, relieved breath and say, “Thank you, love.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he murmurs, leaving a long lingering touch along your now exposed collarbone. “While you strike quite the image in your armor, I think I much prefer you without.”

You laugh, feeling quite light in the now steaming room. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your mind is straying quite far from rest, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugs, beginning to tug at your undershirt and small clothes with each of his hands. “Merely stating fact, my darling.”

With a few smooth movements, he’s taken off the last of your clothing, exposing every inch of you to the warmth of the room and the heat of his gaze. He seems just about ready to bury his head in your neck, begin covering every piece of you in kisses, when you speak, “Excuse me, are you planning to enter the bath in your house clothes?”

Astarion looks down at his own garb, the comfortable satins and silks of a man who spent the day lounging at home. When faced with your words and, ugh, logic, he says with a sigh, “Would you do the honors?”

You need no more invitation before your hands are on his soft, flowing shirt, running along it appreciatively. “Is this new?”

“It is,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Do you like it?”

“It feels magnificent,” you respond, beginning to undo its buttons. “I may just have to steal it for myself one of these days.”

His lips purse at you. “You know, you could simply ask, darling.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you taunt, pulling up on the shirt's edges, tugging it up and off of him. Now, faced with the plane of his ivory chest, your fingers act on instinct. They trail down his shoulders, trace the line of his pectorals, drop down the center of his stomach to the waist of his pants.

Astarion gives you a low, approving noise before asking you wryly, “Now whose mind is straying?”

“Not mine,” you respond, pulling his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. “My hands are just so tired, I’m sure you understand.”

“Surely,” he responds, as he pulls each foot out of his pant legs. “How is the water?”

The bath is steaming by now, visibly fogging up the room, but still, you bend down to skim your hands along its surface. “Ah, it’s warm,” you say, gripping the edge with one hand. “Maybe too warm?”

“No such thing,” he responds, and one of his hands lands next to yours as he bends down to feel the water for himself. The man gives a happy hum before asking, “Shall we then?” Then his now-wet hand is smacking your butt, his head gesturing toward the waiting water. 

“Excuse you,” you say, indignantly, as you turn toward him. “I'm tired.” But you don't feel tired. Not after running your hands over his cold skin. Not after feeling the quick contact of his hand on your backside.

“Not to worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

As in, bathing or–? Luckily you don't have much more time to think about it before he’s lowering himself into the tub. Even with his quick movement, even with the water’s slight obscurity, you easily note that Astarion’s cock has stirred in interest.

Ah. While you hadn’t meant to illicit anything by inviting him… it’s certainly not unwelcome. It’s a good thing that your exhaustion is all but melting away under his loving touches.

Acutely aware of his sharp gaze on the length of your back, you turn to face away from him, grab the edge of the tub, and slowly enter its warmth. As was customary in your baths, he would start with your back, so you take a spot in front of him, leaving just enough room for him to settle behind you as he pleases.

Too much room clearly, as Astarion immediately scoots forward, extending his legs to each side of you. You feel his hardening length graze your backside as he does so and can’t help the smile that curves your lips.

"Astarion, dear,” you start, placing your hands on each of his knees under the water. “Are you certain you want to bathe me?"

“And why wouldn't I be?” He leans closer, planting a soft kiss along your spine.

You debate backing up into his groin to prove a point but instead shake your head. "No reason, I suppose."

He begins by lathering his hands in a mixture of soaps, carefully measured out by eye and feel. All the while, you sit before him, hands on each of his calves, thumbs repeatedly rubbing the ridge of his muscles. While he’d had a nice, calm day today, his calves are always so tight from sneaking about– and it’s the least you can do for the man that’s bathing you.

Then his hands get to work.

At first he drags both hands along your back, once, twice. Once he’s made sure that soap covers every inch of you, he starts massaging you, working the soap into your skin, kneading into your sore muscles.

Astarion knows your body so intimately and, after so many years of tending to each other, he rubs all of your tightest spots. His knuckles press deep into your neck. His fingers work around your upper back. His thumbs dig underneath the edges of your shoulder blades, working out the knots he knows lay beneath. And, by the gods, if you thought you’d been melting under his caresses before, now you’re practically a puddle.

You can’t help the noises that come out at the sensation of his nimble fingers at work. Your shoulders ache from a long day of sneaking, stabbing, and general tension of dealing with people– the relief is palpable in the way you relax into his touch, grip his legs, and release several breathy moans.

And with each moan, you can feel his cock growing firmer against you. After the first few, you can feel him shift closer with every noise he draws from you. Knowing your affect on him has always done something to stir the fire in you, and this time it has you shifting uncomfortably as heat blooms between your legs. The both of you spur the other’s building lust, all the while the fresh scent that Astarion’s concocted permeates the air.

Then, when it’s clear he’s done with your back, thoroughly satisfied with each gasping breath of pleasure, his hands drop from your shoulders. They tail down your back, playing along your spine. And, in an almost leisurely motion, they wrap around your torso, where they finally settle on your chest.

I don’t think this is a relaxing bath anymore, you think distantly. Yet you’re unable to resist leaning into his palms, arching into his touch.

Sensing your shuffles, Astarion curls further into your back, almost entirely flush to you now. His fingers feel their way to each of your nipples, first gently brushing against them, then thumbing over them each in turn. They respond eagerly, perking up under his delicate sweep.

“Astarion,” you begin, turning your head back to him slightly and raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” Your tone isn’t exactly admonishing– your voice comes out too quiet, desire muffling all other emotions.

His hands trail down your chest, past the surface of the bath water, settling on each of your thighs before he responds, voice low, lips inches away from your ear. “Making sure that every single centimeter of my beautiful darling is clean, of course.”

“Astarion, I thought you would be, ahh… taking care of me," you say, barely holding on to your trail of thought as his hands dip between your legs, brushing your sensitive core.

“I am taking care of you,” he whispers, finally closing the remaining distance between your back, his front. At the feel of his stiff cock pressing against your back, you give an involuntary gasp. He seems to enjoy your reaction, taking a moment to slowly grind the entire length of his hardened arousal along your backside once, before he settles between your cheeks. “Unless you’d rather leave all of this stress pent up, my dear?”

You’d been tired– been ready to bathe and head off to bed. But something about this man never fails to ignite the fire in your heart– or your loins. “I suppose not,” you murmur, releasing Astarion’s calf, running up his leg with your fingers, landing on his arm, gripping it closer to you.

“I knew you would see reason,” he says, taking your grip as guidance. His hand moves down to begin stroking your heat, building up steadily to the fast-paced rhythm he knows you like. In the water’s buoyant embrace, his actions feel a touch more fluid, his fingers more silken.

It has taken time experimenting together to reach this place– one of utmost security and intimate knowledge of each others’ bodies. But now that you’re here, you’ve found that Astarion’s agile fingers are obscenely precise in their movements. Like he knows exactly which pins to tumble to unlock your utmost excitement.

So you can't help the way you buck into his touch, nor the way the water sloshes around you both in response.

"Careful, love," he says, hand stilling. "We don't want to make a mess this time, do we?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember the last time this had happened, how the floor had been practically flooded. You should agree with him, make sure that such an incident doesn't occur again. But the front of your mind is wholly occupied, thinking only of how he's stopped moving his hand, how being careful may mean that he takes it too gently. "Mmm, we managed to clean it up well enough," you respond, jerking your hips back, pressing against him with need.

Astarion's laughter rings upon the bathroom's stone walls, before it turns into a groan as you roll your hips once more. His voice is a bit huskier when he responds, "You know we’re going to regret it later.”

You smile back at him, satisfied with the noise you’ve elicited. “Sounds like a problem for later, doesn’t it?” Then your hand squeezes his arm, motioning it back down to your now throbbing arousal. “For now, what was that about releasing my stress?”

“Oh very well… in that case, let’s find where you ache most, shall we?” Astarion murmurs, dipping his head, placing a kiss on the base of your neck. “Here?” Your shoulder. “Or perhaps here?” Then his hand settles back between your legs, fingers touching you in a rather delicate caress. “Or maybe here?”

You hum a noise of approval as his . “Oh, there.”

His fingers close on your swollen sex, rubbing languidly as he whispers in your ear, “Mmm, darling. So much tension…” A bit more pressure. “I must simply…” A bit faster pace. “Massage it all away…”

If anything, his touches cause you to grasp at his legs harder, all of the muscles in your body responding in kind to his ministrations. Your back arches instinctively, earning an exquisite groan from Astarion. So when his next stroke causes you to clench, you lean into it, grinding your ass back into the full length of his erection, sliding easily in the water’s low friction.

His other hand finds its way to your hip, helping you match his pace as you continue to rock into him.

The two of you fall into a beautiful, raucous rhythm, each open and generous with your vocal pleasure, the water’s regular splashes punctuating each movement.

“Yes, yes, gods, Astarion.”

“My sweet, you’re the only divine thing here.”

Then your words begin to lose sense, your rhythm begins to falter, and it’s clear that you won’t last much longer under his caring fingers.

You also know that Astarion hasn’t been tended to nearly as well as you have.

So you move to turn toward him. With how his full length twitches against you in urgency, your own nimble fingers ought to return the favor.

Astarion stops you, placing his unoccupied hand back on your chest to hold you in place. "Ah ah ah. Love, I'm here to help you."

"You are helping,” you start, pushing back against his hand. “But I don’t want to leave you like this.” ‘This’ is obvious as the man clearly exercises every ounce of self control he has judging from the visible veins on his arm, the way his legs squeeze reflexively around you each time he strokes you.

He gives you a reluctant groan, one that does nothing to hide his desire. “Must you always be so selfless?” His hand doesn’t release your chest though, and he begins tracing delicate, wet circles around one of your nipples, as he murmurs, “Fine, just let me continue.”

Staying in place for him, you reach back with one hand to feel for his cock. It’s almost unreal how naturally you slot around him, the way your fingers circle around its girth. The entire length, inch-by-inch, the pattern of his veins, the sensitive lip of his head– they’re all intimately familiar to you now. As is finding just the right grip, the right pace.

When you start to pump him in earnest, Astarion can't help but shudder, his movements losing their steady, pulsing beat. In losing his pace, he takes on a new one– erratic, a bit fumbling, but utterly intoxicating.

You're both stoking each other’s fires in tandem, wildly offset in your desperation to touch each other more and more and more. 

The water feels almost cool compared to your heated core, to the sweet friction you're building together.

Astarion's face tilts into your back, grunting as he strains to right his tempo– his forehead presses against you, his cool exhale grazes your searing skin. His chilled touch is a reprieve in the sweltering fog of steam and heady lust. Hearing your sigh of relief, he seems all too willing to make more contact.

His lips crash onto your back roughly, and his fangs nick your skin. An involuntary shiver runs through your body as you imagine the pleasure his drinking evokes from you. As you imagine the man behind you lapping at your neck, moaning in satisfaction, flushed pink with your very blood–

"Take some blood,” you offer, breathless. Imagining would never be enough, you find yourself craving the real deal. So when you say your next word, it comes out more pleading than you intend, “Please."

“Whatever my dearest desires,” Astarion replies, voice low and rumbling. He removes the hand from your chest and places it on your shoulder, holding you in place as he places his lips at the crook of your neck. His nose rubs gently against your fleshly washed skin. “Mmm, you smell so good.”

Then his fangs pierce you.

When you first began your relationship, you hadn’t intended to enjoy his bites as much as you do, but after years and years of them, the pain hardly registers now. All you feel is close– So very close to the man you would gladly give your lifeblood to.

He draws a gulp, and you feel the blood course through you, into him.

Another drink, and heat builds in you as you feel his cock grow harder in your hand, his veins more prominent.

A third long pull of your blood, and you feel his fingers quicken at your aching arousal.

You jerk into his hand in reaction, trying to seek an outlet for your pleasure. Your mouth emits a whimper– you hadn’t been comfortable whimpering with Astarion at first, but after he drew one out of you, he couldn’t get enough.

He still can’t, and you feel his lips curl into a smile at your neck, his fingers move with more urgency.

All the while you continue stroking his length, fingers sloppy in your own hazy state. It doesn’t seem like you need your usual dexterity though, because Astarion is practically writhing with newfound reactivity. Drinking blood always leaves him especially sensitive.

One last shaky swallow and he removes his fangs from your neck. But not his mouth. His tongue begins lavishing your puncture wound furiously as he struggles to hold back his approaching peak.

With the way he haphazardly tilts his hips into you, it’s all too evident to you that he’s reaching his limit. He’s not afraid to tell you so either.

"My sweet," he all but moans into your ear. "I–I can't last much longer. May I?"

You know what he means, and you honestly can’t last much longer either– you’re positively light-headed from a mixture of bliss and blood loss. So you stop your movements, nod your addled head at him.

He removes his hands from your core and neck, reaching out to your legs. Pulling them out and apart, he shuffles behind you, moving impatiently.

Realizing he can’t do this alone, he gestures, motioning for you to put your legs up.

Still a bit dizzy, you carefully place each leg on either side of the tub’s edges, hooking yourself in place by the ankles. It feels a precarious balance, but you can hardly care when you’re this eager to have Astarion inside you.

Astarion seems just as eager, rubbing his length against your ass hungrily as you get into position.

Perched and ready for him, the man is quick to help once more– his hands grip your asscheeks and lift in a swift movement. You’re particularly buoyant in the water, and you rise higher than either of you had expected. Your hand instinctively reaches out, gripping the edge of the tub to brace yourself, and you hear Astarion give a deep chuckle from behind you.

Holding back your own almost giddy excitement, you try to compose yourself for him. Angling your hips up, you’re almost floating on the water for a moment as Astarion lines the tip of his cock with your entrance.

However, you’re instinctively clenching a second later when a pair of your lover’s fingers tease at your opening. You barely avoid clamping your legs back together at the sensation. 

Recovering from the tickling probe, you look back to see a lust-drunk fanged smile, lips smeared with red. "Astarion, please,” you mutter. “I can't balance like this all day."

"Come darling, I know you’re quite talented," he taunts, easily gliding his fingers back in, curling until you truly do begin to lose balance.

"Astarion," you breathe out, clutching the side of the tub even harder to stay afloat.

Then his fingers slip back out, replaced a moment later by the head of his cock. “No need to worry, I have a seat for you right here.”

His palms cup your backside, his fingers squeeze, as you lower your hips back down, taking in his entire, slick length effortlessly in the water.

“Now isn’t that better?” he asks, grabbing your hips with one hand, the other finding yours on the side of the tub for support.

“Mmm,” is all that you manage, as you adjust to the sudden fullness. You haven’t lain with anyone else in so long, it’s hard to remember a cock other than his. Still, you can’t help but feel like he settles in you just right. Especially when you both slot together neatly, you taking him to the hilt.

Astarion drops another kiss on your back. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. Now that you’re securely held in place by Astarion’s hips flush to yours, your legs hanging off the tub’s edges, you place your second hand back at your aching arousal. You begin to stroke yourself back into the same fervor Astarion had you in moments ago.

After a small, deliberate thrust of his hips, testing how you rise and fall in the water, Astarion starts moving against you. It’s slow at first, the water rippling out from you both in small waves. Then his hips rock back, only to drive back into you with sloshing force. 

“A–ahh!” Sweet hells, he knows exactly how to hit your most sensitive spot. You had already been so heated, but now, with your lover’s full, hardened length pressing into you? You feel dizzy with pleasure.

Years of lovemaking, and you’re still in awe of how well he knows your body. It’s more than his previous experiences culminating in some kind of skillful paramour. No, this was built through time, trial, error, effort.

So as this gorgeous man you call love bounces you up and down in his lap, you feel yourself coming undone. Your breaths come ragged as you ride his cock, water spilling out of the tub with each and every buck. Your fingers clench the tub, barely holding on as you feel your pleasure coil tighter and tighter.

Astarion places kiss after kiss down your back, and you hear him murmuring, "Gods you're perfect." A harder kiss. "You feel so good." Another thrust. "Each." A nip at your skin. "And every." A thrust. "Time." Another kiss. "I–I love you."

For your part, you’re finding entire sentences difficult. With the feel of him throbbing inside you, the way his lips feel along your back, each roll of his hips, you're truly only capable of a few phrases. "Astarion." A splashing bounce. "I love you–" A loll back of your head. "Oh hells–" A dip of your hips. "I love you too."

When your peak finally runs through you like a shockwave, when you clench around him in ecstasy, those very same words are still on your lips. "I l–love you."

He moans at the sudden tightness, the muscles that now hold him deep within you. "Darling," he breathes. "Oh love. I can't–"

Astarion means to say that he can't hold on much longer. He'd already been so close, holding back only to keep your pleasure going. So you reach down to his fingers on your hip, as best as you can while still hanging on for dear life, and squeeze his hand. A wordless affirmation, a plea to join you, as he always has.

And it’s that silent communication that has his fingers lacing through yours, his neck craning back, his hips stuttering.

When he comes, there's no pretense or performance. There hasn't been for many years. So when you look back at his face in a hazy fuzz of emotion, the expression you see is utterly unbridled.

It's a look of sheer pleasure– his perfectly pale skin flushed a light rosy color, his usually impeccable hair stuck to his face in a mixture of sweat and water. His eyes are shut, his mouth agape as he spills into you.

So enraptured are you by the mundane beauty of his climax, that you’ve strained too far from your precariously balanced position. Your foot unhooks from the tub’s slippery edge and you fall onto Astarion’s lap with a large splash as he finishes. You’re both left panting and wet in the wake of both your and the tub’s peaks.

Water drips down your face, all of the soap bottles have been knocked from the edge of the tub. The high you’d felt just moments ago feels doused in the stark reality of making love in a bathtub. 

However, when you feel Astarion’s breathy laughter on your back, feel his softening cock twitch with his last few thrusts, you know he’s still in fine spirits.

You stay together for a few moments as you both collect yourselves. Water is wiped from eyes, your second leg comes back into the tub, and several deep breaths are had. Once you’re relatively sorted, Astarion pulls himself out of you with a long, happy sigh.

The man falls back from you, sitting against the end of the tub in a tired flop. Then he’s patting the water in front of him, motioning you to join him in some post-coital cuddles.

You don’t need much more of an invitation.

Floating through the now much lower water, you stop just in front of him. Movements relaxed, you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and scoot into his waiting embrace.

"So," you start, looking at the wasteland of water and strewn soap bottles around the tub. "Looks like we made a mess."

"I told you we would," he says, closing his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

"I know," you say, leaning into him comfortably. Your body is truly exhausted now, but your mind is a buzz of joy. "It was worth it though."

He laughs into your shoulder, squeezes you tighter. "Feeling better, I take it?"

"Gods yes," you say, tilting your head into his silver hair. "Thank you."

"Oh my sweet, it was my utmost pleasure," he replies, and you can feel his smile on your skin.

You both lean back, grinning at each other like fools. The smiles stay, even when your lips meet in a soft, wet kiss.

You will need to clean the room, the tub, likely your bodies once again– but all you can truly feel right now is content. Enjoying Astarion’s gentle fingers as they trace a pattern onto your skin, the warm water all around you, you very nearly forget that today was merely a day like any other.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, it was messy and wet and silly– somehow, it was sweet, caring, and loving all the same.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, you didn't know it was the thousandth time.

Just as you hadn't known your tenth thousand kiss, nor your hundred thousandth 'I love you.' Were anyone to ask you about them, you might not even remember the days or events surrounding any of them.

What you do know is that each individual moment holds no less importance, that the affection shared between you doesn’t diminish with each recurrence.

You’re unable to quantify your love, nor would you want to. All you really want is Astarion– his soft lips, tender hands, and whispered words of love– until your dying breath.

[kittenintheden]

Ethics Review

Dave Matthews voice: I DID IT

Tav (reader) and Astarion pay his old office at the Courts a visit in the middle of the night for funsies and things get spicy.

aka it's the switchy bitchy magistrate roleplay fic

Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Pairing: Astarion/reader (Tav) Content: 18+, light BDSM elements, sexual roleplay, bitches be switches, dirty talk, spanking, orgasm denial, light edgeplay, oral sex, PIV sex (AFAB reader, not gendered)

AO3 Link

It’s late, but then, it’s always late when you’re out with Astarion these days. By necessity, mostly, but also because it’s the best time for the pair of you to get up to your more unsavory plans without catching the watchful eye of the newly-reformed Fist.

“Where are you taking me?” you laugh as you follow him through a series of dark alleys. “This better not end with me having to send for Gale to get your hand out of another magicked jar.”

“Never going to let me live that down, are you?” He looks over his shoulder and gives you an affectionate smirk.

“Not ever.”

Astarion peers around the corner of a brown brick building, checking that the coast is clear. To you, he says, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving soul.”

“Ah, yes,” you agree, wrapping your arms around him from behind and nuzzling his neck. “Two of your most obvious and accurate qualities.”

He chuckles. “We’re almost there. Come on.”

A labyrinthine dozen alleyways later, you’re deposited in an open square, quiet and still. The cobblestones are dark with recent rain, sending their petrichor scent into the air. As you follow Astarion out into the space, you realize where you are. It’s the Courthouse District of the Lower City, where people are tried and held for petty crimes that aren’t suitable for Wyrm’s Rock.

You huff a laugh through your nose and look over at your partner with a raised eyebrow. “Did you need to tell me something? Have a court date you forgot to mention?”

“Hush,” he playfully scolds you, holding a finger up to his lips. “Let me think a moment.”

He peers up at a particular building on the square and furrows his brow, closing his eyes and moving his hands through the air. You fold your arms and watch as he moves his fingers like he’s following a path only he can see, turning corners and raising level by level. At last, he opens his eyes, and points at window on the third floor, two in from the corner.

“That one,” he says.

“That one what?” you prompt.

He grins devilishly. “That…” he points again. “... is my old office. I thought we might pay it a visit.”

“To what end?” you laugh.

“What can I say, I’m feeling a touch nostalgic these days.” He keeps his eye on the window and beckons you to follow closer to the building. “Something about my old haunts is calling to me.”

Behind where he can’t see, you pay him an affectionate smile. In the last year or so since the fall of the Nether Brain, you’ve seen the city rebuilt and gone on your fair share of adventures and quests, always searching for some way to give Astarion back the sunlight you promised him. No luck yet, but there have been promising leads here and there. It’s not a lost cause. Not yet.

The last few months in particular have seen certain changes in your lover. The terror and fear he carried for so long clung to him like a shadow, and ever so slowly it’s beginning to lift. His laugh is more present than before, more real. The intimate moments you share are filled with trust and care, even as you get more comfortable pushing a few boundaries here and there.

Most of all, he’s been remembering. Not everything. There are parts of his past forever lost to him, written over by more years of torment than he ever had of life. But there’ve been flashes every now and again of who he used to be. Some of them he likes, some he loathes. He doesn’t always talk about it, but you know being able to pick up a piece once in a while has meant a great deal to him.

So you follow along with whatever little game he has planned.

He walks along the building, scanning the brick for footholds. Just as he puts his hand on a storm drain and tenses to leap, you halt him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks back at you, you flick your eyes up toward the window.

“Three up, two in from then end?” you ask.

He nods.

“Allow me, love.”

You hold up your hand and cobalt magic pools in your palm, forming into a sphere. You send it up above you, the arcane eye floating until it finds the correct window before it slips inside. You blink, your own eyes glowing blue as you use your magic to scan the room. It’s certainly an office of some sort.

Astarion takes your hand when you hold it out for him and instantly you’re transported inside the office thanks to a handy little dimensional door spell you picked up on one of your many adventures. You wave away the arcane eye and give Astarion a wink.

He smirks and shakes his head at you. “Take all of the fun out of the thing, why don’t you,” he says through his smile. “Suppose I’ll have to make do with checking that the place isn’t alarmed. Alas.”

The place is, indeed, alarmed. Astarion manages to disarm two common magic wires and one trickier sending stone scattered throughout the room. You reach out through the Weave for any other whispers of magic. Some artifacts and lightly magical office supplies. Nothing worrisome.

Once you’re both satisfied that you won’t end up immediately arrested, Astarion moves to the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back. You’re quiet as he scans the walls, turning in a slow circle as he takes everything in. His fangs flash as he gives a quiet laugh.

“The layout is different, and the color,” he says. “But yes, this is the place.” He furrows his brow slightly and holds out his hands, eyes on the floor. “I… worked here. Me. A magistrate.” His eyes find you and his smile widens. “It was a lie for so much longer than it was a reality. But it was a reality, once upon a time.”

“I’m surprised,” you say, folding your arms and nonchalantly stepping closer. “The way you spoke and dressed when we first met, I thought you must’ve been an Upper City fancy defending-the-powerful type.”

Astarion clicks his tongue at you. “Now, don’t be judgmental. That’s my job.” He waves a hand through the air. “I was quite young in my career, but I was working my way up. All the way to the third floor, thank you.”

You come in to wrap your arms around his waist and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Genuinely.”

He spreads his fingers over your forearm, pressing his lips to your hair. “Thank you. That’s always nice to hear.” He clears his throat and removes your arms, backing away from you with a toss of his head. “But don’t be too proud. I wasn’t exactly a… what’s the term? Model citizen.”

Astarion begins to walk around the small table with four chairs set in the center of the room.

“Oh?” you say, walking around the other side to mirror him. “Were you terribly corrupt?”

He pauses and tilts his head, shrugging. “‘Terribly’ is such a strong word, isn’t it? Lets just say I may have been known to, ah… sway the odds in my favor.”

You stop and look across the table at him. “What do magistrates even do, exactly? What did you do, specifically?”

“An absolutely stupid amount of paperwork, as I recall,” he says. “At least, I certainly remember hating every scrap that came across the desk. Meting out appropriate punishment for any minor and petty crime you can think of, most of them horrifically boring. But…” He leans over the table and holds up a finger. “... sometimes I got to conduct interviews to determine if crime was worthy of Wyrm’s Rock, and I was very good at getting the verdict I wanted.”

You rather like seeing this side of Astarion. Honest pride, confidence, and authority. The tip of your tongue runs along your bottom lip as you take in your love leaning over that table, dappled in moonlight. Gods, he’s beautiful.

“And how did you do that?” You pop your hip and raise your thumb to your mouth, teasing your lip as you peer up at him through your eyelashes. “Exactly?”

Astarion notices the shift in your demeanor immediately, his own eyes going half-lidded as they track the path of your hand to your mouth. His grin goes predatory and he leans back so he can come around the table to you and pull out the chair.

“Please, darling,” he says, nodding for you to sit. “Let’s talk, you and I.”

You pay him a sultry smile and sink into the chair, which he pushes in under you. Then he walks back around to the other side with his spine straight, hands folded behind his back.

A new game begins.

Astarion rolls out his shoulders as if he’s shedding a coat. When he turns to look at you, he does so down the length of his nose, his hard gaze making it clear that he thinks you beneath him.

You shiver as a thrill runs down your back and attempt to hide it.

He shakes his head above you, tutting. You’ve disappointed him.

Instinctively, you shrink into your chair slightly as he leans forward and places the tips of his fingers against the table in front of him, continuing to lower his face until it’s a mere foot from yours.

“A pathetic display back there,” he says, voice dripping with condescension. “Your associates have hung you out to dry. You do know that…” He tilts his head. “... don’t you?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and drop your eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Silly little patsy,” he chides as he straightens to glare down at you again. “Such stars in your eyes for friends who would sooner see you burn than stick their necks out for you.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” you say, raising your eyes to him in defiance even as you let a waver of nerves shake your voice.

“What must it be like to be so tragically misguided?” he sneers. It’s like an echo of a man you once knew. One you met on a sunny beach amid burning wreckage.

You blink up at him, eyes going soft. “I can’t betray them.”

“Betray them,” he breathes, huffing a mirthless laugh as he leans one hand onto a nearby chair. “My dear, they are in the next room, and the room after that, giving you up as we speak. No loyalty among thieves, I fear.”

“No,” you gasp. “They wouldn’t.”

Astarion holds a finger up to his lips, shushing you. “I think you know better than that. But fine, have it your way. Don’t give them up to save your own hide. Let me sweeten the pot.”

He turns his body so he can side-sit on the table and put his first knuckle under your chin, lifting it so he can inspect you. The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Gold to line your pockets, perhaps?”

Though you try to stop it, your body betrays you as a bright blush blooms across your nose and cheeks. Astarion’s pupils dilate above you.

“Or something else entirely?” he whispers, tilting his mouth closer to yours. “I’d much sooner send those two cads to Wyrm’s Rock in your place. Help me, and maybe you and I could have a bit of…” His eyes trail down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and beyond before he looks back into your eyes. “... fun in celebration.”

“Why would you do that for me?” you whisper back.

He shrugs. “What can I say? I rather like you. Plus, I might get a little kickback in the form of a promotion for bringing in two thorns in the Fist’s side, but that’s neither here nor there.” He rolls his eyes and pays you a flirtatious smile on the last bit.

And that… is your opening.

Your expression grows serious and you note the moment that Astarion’s eyebrows give the briefest twitch of concern.

"You've overplayed your hand, Magistrate Ancunín," you say.

Astarion draws his hand back and gives you a perplexed look. “Have I?”

You smile, then. Calm and dangerous. "I've been sent by the Board of Ethics, you see."

Astarion is thrown by this turn, but he recovers quickly, offering a simpering smile. "Oh? Oh, dear. Seems I've been caught with my pants down."

You stand, holding his eye. "Indeed. Best go place your hands on the desk where I can see them."

With a flourish, he holds his hands up for you to see. No funny business, none at all. He goes to the desk and spreads his palms flat against the polished wood. He must feel the heat of your skin as you come close, only inches away. Inspecting. Considering.

You lean in close to his ear. "Say our word if you'd like me to stop, Ancunín," you whisper.

"Stop what?" he asks.

In answer, you grab his hips and pull them flush against your own with enough force that he gasps from it, genuinely surprised. In his ear again, you whisper, "Teaching you a lesson."

You release him and move to his side. He turns his head to look at you and you can see the openmouthed surprise in his face, but it’s more than that. Surprised, yes, but also open. Interested. Very turned on. You know this look.

This is Astarion’s “oh, we’re doing that thing I like?” look. It’s a good look on him.

You tap a finger on his nearest hand. “Keep these exactly where they are. I must warn you that you face serious repercussions for witness tampering. I have some questions. Answer them to my satisfaction, and I may consider…” Your gaze trails down to the front of his trousers, which are straining. When you meet his eye again, you add, “... reinstatement.”

Astarion tilts his chin down so he can give you a heated look. “Then by all means,” he says, lips parted. “Ask.”

“Hm,” you hum as you trail your fingers over the desk as you walk around to the other side. You mimic his stance with your hands on the table, though yours is one of authority while his is one of awaiting judgment. He tilts his head at you in question, gaze hot. You match it.

“Let’s start with an easy one.” You tilt your head toward the wall without breaking eye contact. “That placard hanging there. What is it?”

He looks and then huffs through his nose. “It’s an oath.”

You tilt your head the other way. “And what does it say?”

Astarion smirks. “‘As an officer of the Court, I will strive to conduct myself at all times with integrity, dignity, and honor.’”

“That’s right,” you say, nodding. “Now tell me, Ancunín… do you feel you’ve conducted yourself in accordance with that oath?”

“Of course,” he answers without hesitation, flashing you a winning smile. “I offered you the utmost dignity and honor, did I not?”

An idea occurs to you and you imagine he catches the twinkle in your eye as you raise one of your hands to click your fingers, a glowing web of pale blue stretching to cage you both inside. Astarion frowns up at it. The moment he realizes what you’ve done, he gives you a look that’s half-exasperated and half-devious.

“What’s this?” he says, playing along.

“A little insurance policy. To ensure your adherence to honesty.” You reach to the collar of your shirt and undo one button. Then another.

Then another.

Astarion struggles to keep his eyes on your face, but when you lean back down onto the table, he can’t help but sneak a peek.

You toy with another button. “Why don’t you tell me what you think about dignity now?”

Astarion bites the corner of his lip to keep his expression serious. He keeps his eyes trained on your chest and seems to carefully consider his words before he says, “I maintain that I respect the dignity of your tits.”

That’s not what he meant to say. He blinks. His eyes flick up to yours. “Your position,” he amends.

His eyes flick back down. “Your position and your tits.”

“Ah,” you say. “Yes, I thought that might be the case. That you might be… what do they say? Dipping your wick in the law office wax.”

You stand and come back around to his side, maintaining your spell as you do. Astarion tracks you all the way back around.

“I’d like you to be as honest with me as you can be,” you say softly. “Not that you’ve much choice. So, in that case, here’s some extra… motivation.”

You’re behind him now and you hear his sharp intake of breath when he feels your palms spread over either side of his hips before moving around to the ties at the front of his trousers. You loosen them just enough to give you space.

Astarion’s knuckles are going white where he presses his fingers against the desk.

Your fingers are soft and warm against his lower abdomen as they dip below his waistband, then inside his underthings. You find what you seek and grip it firmly, fisting the length of him. He bites back a groan and flexes his hands against the wood as you draw him out into the open air. 

“You do keep it cool in here,” you whisper into his ear. You keep your touch light as you tease his cock, just enough to make him want but not nearly enough to satiate the need. “Why is that?”

Astarion swallows and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “A little discomfort loosens the tongue, I find.” He struggles to keep the breathiness out of his voice and very nearly succeeds. 

Nearly. 

Your smile is wicked. “I see. Well.”

You rest his hardened length against the varnished wood of the desk. It’s cool on his touch-warmed skin and he whines lightly as you leave him there to walk around to his other side, fingertips drawing a trail across his broad back and shoulders.

“In that case, we’ll be leaving that…” You glance down at his cock, then back at his face. “… out in the cold until you’ve answered my questions to my satisfaction. Understood?”

He takes a deep breath through his nose and meets your eye. “Completely.”

“Good.” You move one of his misplaced curls back into place. “If I’m satisfied, I just might let you warm it up again. We shall see.”

“Indeed we shall,” he says, voice dropping deeper, and you can sense the challenge there. You smile as you turn away from him.

“Let’s try again,” you say. “Do you make a habit of lying to your interviewees in hopes of manipulating a confession?”

“Is ‘lying’ the word we want to use?” he says with a lilt.

“Yes.” You turn back to look at him.

He clears his throat, chewing his tongue to hide another smile before he looks away. He thinks a moment, then says, “I occasionally massage my message to pave the way for a more fruitful discussion in my favor, yes. Only in the interest of this office and my personal satisfaction.” He smirks at you, clearly pleased with himself.

You shake your head. “My, my. And just when I thought we were getting somewhere. Perhaps you need a reminder that I hold your immediate future in my hands?”

When you move back in and loosen his trousers still further to shove down his hips and below his arse, he wriggles to help. He seems to think he’s won this phase of the game. Adorable.

Rather than give him any relief, you reach out to the desk and pick up a wooden ruler, thin and flexible. Astarion opens his mouth, presumably to ask what you’re doing, but doesn’t get the chance as you use the flat of the ruler to give him a quick smack on his bare arse. 

He cries out in surprise and looks around at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him the opportunity to call his out. Instead, you watch his eyes darken. He’s still in. Which is good, because gods above if you aren’t beginning to make a mess of your underwear already.

“Do you understand your situation?” you ask.

“Maybe you ought to remind me again,” he rumbles.

You do, leaving another slap on his pale skin. A shiver travels up his back from the base of his spine all the way up.

“I understand,” he says.

“Very good,” you say. “Do you manipulate the outcomes of your interviews?”

“Sometimes, yes,” he says quietly, peering up at you from under his brows.

“Thank you for your honesty. With bribery?”

He nods.

You bend forward so you’re eye-to-eye. “And do you frequently offer favors of a sexual nature?”

Astarion’s gaze drops to your mouth and he blinks heavily. “That’s only for when I see someone I like,” he says.

There’s another slap to his arse, quick as reflex, and he gives a small, broken “a-ah” as he drops his head. He spoke the truth, your spell ensures that, but you want him to be more specific. You look down to see he’s subtly grinding himself against the desk, his cock beginning to weep pre-fluid as you watch.

You place the ruler against his back to hold him in place. “None of that,” you say. “Not until you clarify. Why me?”

He groans in frustration. “Because I like you. Because I’m attracted to you. Because I want to be inside you and fuck and fuck and fuck until we’re both hoarse from crying our ecstasy.”

Well. The pair of underwear you’re wearing are officially done for, you fear.

“What a wicked tongue you have,” you breathe, not quite able to keep up your aura of authority. You swallow and add, “Perhaps I’ll consider letting you off with a warning if we can figure out a better use for it.”

Astarion goes to his knees so quickly it makes your head spin. You don’t hesitate to take care of the bindings on your own trousers and he’s eager to help, shoving your clothing to the floor. You’re trying to remove a boot when he presses his face into the crux of your legs and runs his tongue along the seam of you so hotly that you nearly fall over. You lean down and give him another half-hearted smack. All it does is elicit a groan against your most sensitive of places.

With some struggle, you manage to remove the boot, kick your trousers and underthings off of one leg, and hop up to sit on the desk, Astarion follows you along, refusing to let you leave him now that he’s on you. His mouth works against you on its own, tongue lapping firmly at the edges of your cunt, flushing you and making you swell. He hasn’t even touched your clit yet and you know you’re already slick with desire.

You’re so momentarily distracted that you almost miss where his hands have gone.

Chest heaving, you weakly wave to dismiss your Zone of Truth and call up your mage hand, sending it down where you can’t reach to grab the wrist of the hand Astarion’s using to pump his cock while he licks at you.

“I don’t think so,” you gasp. “Still on… probation.”

You’re losing the thread and you’re perfectly okay with it.

Astarion growls in response and comes up higher on his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you tight against his face. His tongue finally finds your center and he rolls it against your entrance, plying the place just inside that makes you go flush with arousal, your clit swelling further. Then he finally pays it attention with a light draw followed by firm circles, teasing until you feel sparkles of arcane energy tingling at your fingertips and zaps of pleasure shoot through your core.

He holds you so tight to him that there’s no escape from the assault of pleasure he’s waging on your body. All too soon, you’re whimpering as you approach your peak.

And Astarion simply stops. He leaves you there, right before the edge, and you cry out in dismay and frustration. Before you realize what’s happening, he’s on his feet and pulling you onto yours, spinning you around until your hips are pressed to the edge of the dark wood. You can feel his rock hard length against the cleft of your arse, feel the wetness at the tip of him against your lower back.

“You’ve overplayed your hand this time, I think,” he pants into your ear. “Let your guard down. What member of the Board of Ethics accepts bribes?”

When you try to wriggle free, you feel his fingers at your wrists. He takes your hands and spreads them on the desk as you’d done to him, bending you over. His hips draw back and then return and you feel his hardness drag over your folds from behind, teasing but not quite putting pressure on your clit.

His breathing is heavy, but through it, he manages, “This time, you tell me the truth. Why did you meet with me?”

“To catch you out,” you gasp. “Your behavior has been… unethical.”

“Is it unethical to recognize when someone wants your cock?” he whispers, sending a tingle over your shoulders. “Is it against my oath to offer?”

“That’s not… I didn’t…”

The head of his cock nudges your clit and you both hiss through your teeth. He pulls back until he catches at your entrance, pushing in just barely. Just enough to begin to feel him, but nowhere near enough of him. Instinctively you arch your back harder, trying to take more, but he won’t let you.

“Beg me,” he growls in your ear. “Beg me for my cock. Tell me it’s why you came here.”

Your very last thread of remaining restraint is pulled to its absolute limit, but it doesn’t break quite yet. “I came here on orders to uncover a magistrate with loose morals,” you manage.

Astarion reaches a hand up to the hair at the back of your head, grabs a handful, and gently pulls to bend your head back. Directly into your ear, he whispers, “You’ve found him. Now beg for it.”

In the quiver of his voice, you can hear that he’s the one begging you.

So you give in.

“I came here for you,” you whisper back. “Please, let me. Let me take your cock.”

His breath shudders out of him. “Take it you shall.”

Astarion thrusts his hips forward, burying himself in you, and you hardly have time to so much as gasp before he sets a punishing rhythm, one arm around your waist to hold you in place and the other one still tangled up in your hair. You arch deeply, giving him as much access as you can, and he pounds into you relentlessly. On the outskirts of your awareness, you feel bruises beginning to form on your hipbones from where they repeatedly hit the desk.

You don’t care one whit.

He keeps you bent over the desk, your palms spread to keep you both upright as he fucks you hard, his moans trapped behind his clenched teeth. As you fly full speed back to your edge, he removes the hand from your head and absently places it over your mouth to muffle your own escalating cries.

The coil of your climax tightens and Astarion begins to mutter a steady mantra of “yes, yes, yes, gods, yes” beside your ear. He presses himself all the way to the hilt and rocks, the base of him stretching you just right and his balls pressed firm to your clit and there, oh there, it’s right-

You scream behind Astarion’s palm as you come, the delicious tension boiling and spilling over as contractions roll through you, pleasure washing over your body with every heartbeat. You nearly blank out for a second and when you blink back down, your lover continues to pump into you as he chases his own end.

With a shaking hand, you call up your mage hand from where it shimmers nearby and press it to his chest, pushing back with soft pressure.

“No,” Astarion whines, attempting one or two more thrusts before you back him up. “No, please, please, I didn’t finish, I-”

You turn, bottomless and eyes full of fuck and revenge, and add your own hands to the mix, all three pushing him back until he hits the deposition table, going flat on his back. You crawl up over him and straddle him, up on your knees just out of reach.

You look down upon him, beautiful and fucked out in the moonlight. “Do you regret any of it?” you say.

“I’m regretting a lot of my decisions at the moment,” he snarks. His lips part as he breathes.

With a smile, you roll your hips just enough to catch the head of his cock back at your opening. “Do you regret any of it?” you repeat.

He pants, looking up at you. Then he reaches up to grip the front of your shirt and pull you down over him in a searing kiss. When you break, he whispers, “No. Not a moment. It brought me to you.”

You roll back, sinking down onto him. He gasps and throws his arms around you, helping you get back into rhythm, and he’s so close that it’s barely any time at all before he arches his back clear up off the table and groans as he spills inside of you, the relief painted across every inch of his face. He comes for nearly a minute, twitching and humming beneath you until he finally relaxes into a boneless heap.

When he next opens his eyes, you lean down and catch him in another kiss.

The pair of you have barely redressed and cast a few prestidigitation cantrips as a courtesy before there’s a sound somewhere down the hall. Footsteps. Coming closer.

“Shit,” Astarion whispers, startled. He grabs your hand and spins you both into a dim corner of the room before you both cast Invisibility. Just in the nick of time, it appears, because there’s a jangle of keys and then a harried-looking halfling comes bustling into the room, dark bags under their eyes.

They grumble to themselves for a moment, going to a box to sort through files. They don’t find what they’re looking for and move on to the desk. Once there, they open a drawer, then wrinkle their nose.

“Bleeding hells, it smells like sex in here,” they grumble. “Gonna tell Jackobson that Cole has been using his office again. Teach that arsehole for making me come fetch the file he forgot.”

The halfling pulls a file from the drawer, slams it, and exits the room.

Neither of you move for the rest of the minute your invisibility lasts. As soon as the cloaking spell fades, you both collapse to the floor in quiet giggles. You kiss Astarion through your laughter, again and again.

It’s nice to see this side of him.

[moonselune]

Hi could you do one where tav can’t walk after a night with the BG3 Ladies??

heheheheheheh yes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Karlach and you had shared many passionate nights together, but this morning was different. As you tried to get out of bed, your legs felt like jelly, barely able to support your weight. Karlach, still laying beside you, propped herself up on one elbow and watched with a mixture of amusement and concern.

You attempted to stand, but your knees buckled, causing you to collapse back onto the bed with an undignified grunt. Karlach couldn't hold it in any longer—she burst out laughing, a sound that echoed through the room like joyful thunder. Her laughter was infectious, and soon you found yourself chuckling too, despite your frustration.

"Care to explain why my legs feel like they've turned to jelly?" you managed to say between giggles. Karlach wiped tears of mirth from her eyes, still breathless from laughing.

"I guess I may have… overexerted you a bit last night," she replied with a mischievous grin. You tried to glare at her playfully, but it was hard to maintain any semblance of seriousness when she looked at you like that.

"You could say that," you admitted, your lips twitching into a smile despite yourself. Still chuckling, Karlach scooted closer to you and ran a hand gently over your thigh.

"Let me help you up," she offered, her voice laced with affection.

With her support, you managed to sit up on the edge of the bed, though your legs still felt wobbly beneath you. Karlach steadied you with a hand on your back, her touch warm and reassuring.

"I swear," you teased, leaning against her for support, "you're trying to cripple me."

Karlach laughed again, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I can't help it if you can't handle a night with me," she teased back, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to resist her infectious energy. Despite the slight discomfort in your muscles, you couldn't deny that the laughter and banter with Karlach made everything feel lighter.

"Alright, alright," you conceded, finally able to stand with Karlach's help. "But next time, go easy on me, alright?"

Karlach chuckled softly, wrapping her arms around you in a tender embrace.

"I make no promises," she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. You laughed softly, feeling the lingering ache in your muscles but also the warmth of Karlach's affection surrounding you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

Minthara was known for her assertiveness and confidence, qualities that often extended to every facet of her life, including moments of intimacy. After a particularly passionate night with her, you woke up feeling utterly drained, your legs refusing to cooperate as you attempted to rise from the bed.

Groaning softly, you tried to gather your strength, but each attempt to stand was met with a sharp pang of protest from your muscles. Minthara, lying next to you with a smug grin on her face, watched the spectacle with amusement, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You look like you've been thoroughly ravished," she remarked casually, sitting up to get a better view. You shot her a playful glare, though the effort only made your muscles ache even more.

"And whose fault is that?" you retorted, trying to mask the amusement in your voice.

Minthara chuckled throatily, stretching languidly in the bed. "Oh, I plead guilty to that," she replied, her voice low and sultry. You attempted to stand again, but your legs trembled beneath you, threatening to give out completely. You tried a few more times, trying to ignore Minthara watching you, waiting for you to ask for help, and eventually you did.

"I think I might need a little help here," you admitted reluctantly, hoping Minthara would lend you a hand. To your surprise, Minthara merely raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Oh, do you now?" she teased, making no move to assist you. You huffed in mock annoyance, though secretly enjoying the banter.

"Yes, I do," you replied, giving her a pointed look. She chuckled softly, shaking her head as if amused by your stubbornness.

"Very well," she relented finally, pushing herself up to sit beside you. "Come here then."

You shifted closer to Minthara, expecting her to help you up. Instead, she surprised you by slipping her arms around your waist and effortlessly lifting you off the bed. You let out a surprised yelp, instinctively wrapping your arms around her neck for support. Minthara held you securely against her, her strength evident as she effortlessly carried you across the room.

"Stubborn," she murmured teasingly, pressing a playful kiss to your temple.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, the closeness between you and Minthara adding a warmth to your cheeks that had little to do with the lingering soreness in your muscles.

"I was just trying to prove a point," you admitted sheepishly, relaxing into her embrace.

Minthara chuckled again, her voice low and husky. "And what point might that be?" she asked, her tone playful yet tinged with affection.

"That even after a night like that," you replied with a grin, "I can still hold my own."

She laughed softly, carrying you with ease as she made her way towards the bathing chamber. "Oh, I have no doubt about that," she murmured, her words laced with admiration.

As Minthara gently lowered you into the warm bathwater, her touch gentle yet possessive, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for her strength and for the way she effortlessly supported you—both physically and emotionally. In that moment, as you relaxed into her care, you knew that despite her teasing and playful demeanor, Minthara would always be there to lift you up when you needed her the most.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Lae'zel stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over her chest, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. You lay sprawled across the mattress, legs tangled in the sheets, trying to gather your bearings after a night of passionate lovemaking with your fiery Githyanki girlfriend.

"You look pleased with yourself," you remarked, attempting to sit up but wincing as a sharp twinge shot through your legs.

Lae'zel's smirk widened into a grin. "As well I should be. Finally, I have managed to render you incapable of standing straight. It seems I have bested you in more ways than one, weakling."

You chuckled weakly, propping yourself up on your elbows. "I wouldn't call this being bested. It's just… temporary incapacitation."

She strode closer to the bed, her grin turning smug. "Temporary, perhaps. But it proves my prowess."

You couldn't help but admire her confidence, even as you struggled to push yourself into a sitting position. "Alright, alright," you conceded, trying to hide the grin tugging at your lips. "You win this round."

"I always win," she replied matter-of-factly, reaching out to gently help you sit up. You leaned back against the headboard, wincing slightly at the soreness in your muscles.

"I didn't realize this was a competition," you teased, glancing up at her.

Lae'zel's expression softened for a moment before her usual bravado returned. "Everything with you is a competition. I intend to be the best at everything, including… this."

She gestured vaguely toward the tangled sheets, her cheeks coloring slightly despite her attempt to appear nonchalant. You couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her, admiring her determination and the vulnerability she rarely showed.

"Well, congratulations," you said sincerely, reaching out to take her hand. "You've definitely left an impression."

Lae'zel scoffed lightly but didn't pull her hand away, her fingers intertwining with yours.

"It's about time you acknowledged my prowess," she muttered, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

You chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. "I never doubted it for a moment."

She huffed, trying to maintain her tough exterior, but a small smile played on her lips. "Good. Now rest. You'll need your strength for the next round."

You nodded, leaning your head back against the pillow with a smile. "Looking forward to it."

As you settled back into the comfortable silence of the room, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Despite Lae'zel's competitive nature and your playful banter, there was an undeniable connection between you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart lounged against the headboard of the bed, her expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement as she watched you attempt to navigate across the room. After a particularly intense night together, your legs felt like jelly, and every step sent a jolt of pleasant soreness through your muscles.

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Having trouble there, lover?"

You shot her a playful glare as you hobbled towards the dresser, trying to ignore the tingling sensation in your legs.

"Oh, hush," you retorted, feigning nonchalance. "It's nothing."

Shadowheart chuckled softly, her eyes following your movements with a mix of amusement and affection. "Nothing, hmm? You seem to be moving rather gingerly."

You sighed dramatically, turning to face her with a mock scowl. "Well, maybe if someone hadn't been so… enthusiastic last night," you teased, grabbing a pillow from the bed and lobbing it in her direction. She deftly dodged the pillow, laughing as it landed harmlessly on the floor beside her.

"Enthusiastic?" she echoed, her smirk widening. "I believe you were equally enthusiastic, if I recall correctly."

You couldn't help but laugh at her teasing. "Fair point," you admitted, reaching for another pillow and throwing it at her. "But you could at least show some sympathy."

Shadowheart caught the pillow this time, holding it in her lap as she leaned forward slightly, her gaze softening.

"Oh, my love," she said, her voice gentler now. "I do sympathize. But I also find it rather amusing."

You groaned playfully, grabbing a nearby cushion and chucking it at her with more force than intended. It hit her shoulder, causing her to laugh and shake her head.

"Alright, alright," she relented, setting the pillows aside and standing up. "Come here."

You hesitated for a moment, knowing she was enjoying this far too much. But the genuine concern in her eyes softened your resolve. Slowly, you made your way back towards the bed, her arms opening to welcome you into a comforting embrace.

"Next time," Shadowheart murmured as she helped you settle against her, "we'll take it a bit easier, hmm?"

You nodded, resting your head against her shoulder, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. "Deal," you agreed softly. "But it was worth it."

She chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Absolutely," she replied, her arms tightening around you. "Now, let's get you comfortable."

As she eased you back onto the bed, arranging the pillows to support your tired muscles, you couldn't help but smile. Despite her teasing, Shadowheart's caring gestures spoke volumes about her love and concern for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The previous night had been one of passion and intimacy, leaving your muscles pleasantly sore and your movements slightly unsteady. You got up to fetch some water, feeling Jaheria's eyes on your slightly staggering form.

"You seem to be moving rather tentatively, my dear," Jaheira remarked with a hint of amusement in her voice. You turned to face her, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at her teasing tone.

"I'm fine," you replied, trying to maintain a sense of composure despite the embarrassment of your unsteady gait. "It's nothing, truly, just a bit sore, that's all."

Jaheira chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with affection. "That's all, hmm?" she echoed, her smile growing wider. "I must say, it's been quite some time since I've left my mark so thoroughly."

You couldn't help but laugh at her playful pride. "I suppose you still have it," you admitted with a grin, trying to mask your own amusement.

"Indeed," Jaheira replied, her voice taking on a mockingly serious tone. "It's good to know that my skills are not diminished, in my ancient age."

"Well, I appreciate your… dedication" you replied, slowly making your way back to the bed where she sat. Jaheira's expression softened, her teasing demeanor giving way to genuine concern as she watched you carefully.

"Are you in pain?" she asked softly, reaching out to gently guide you to sit beside her. You nodded, grateful for her concern despite your embarrassment.

"A bit," you admitted, letting out a small sigh as you settled onto the bed beside her.

"Let me help," Jaheira offered, her hands gentle as she began to massage your sore muscles. Her touch was soothing, easing the tension and soreness as you relaxed against her.

"Thank you," you murmured gratefully, leaning into her touch. Jaheira smiled warmly, her fingers working skillfully over your tense muscles.

"You're welcome, my dear," she replied softly. "I'm glad to be of service." As she continued to massage your muscles and as you leaned back against her, feeling the tension melting away under her skilled touch.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

`I love writing silly fluffy ones like this lmao, hope you all enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

[sfehvn]

new religion part 2

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Description: AU- Things have gone too far between you and Astarion and he's not sure he'd ever be able to give you what you truly want. Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1,804 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  Luxurious fur blessed your fingertips, stroking absently at the feline across your lap. You hummed a sweet tune as you continued your project. Astarion had the finest oil paints in Faerûn imported to nourish your new hobby. Looking at the canvas, well, it was very much a mess of colors. So much so that he would not have been able to make out what the picture was intended to be if he had not known. He would praise you all the same regardless. As a token of thanks, you had requested he sit for you in the garden while you paint him. 

  “You will be the first to have an original Tav piece. You can show it off when I’m a famous painter.” You joked as he assisted with setting up the easel.

  The kitten that purred against your touch was also a gift. One comment was made about how you had always wanted a cat but never had the room for one; it was just another opportunity to shower you with all of the gifts you had so deserved. The joy on your face when he presented you with the tiny feline made his heart swoon. Astarion would admit he had yet to think that offering through, though. When you were not present, which was most of the time, he had to care for the wretched little thing. His feigned attitude towards the kitten, which you had so ominously named Georgie, was a facade. He had grown to find comfort in the furball curling up to him in bed in your absence. He even caught himself cooing to the blasted little creature on occasion.

  Astarion sat in the wrought iron chair across from you, a forgotten book propped open on his forearm as he admired the tenacity on your face, tongue jutting ever-so-slightly from between succulent lips as you struggled to work with the paints. How could you be so blissfully oblivious to the beauty you are? He wondered, his head resting in the palm of his unoccupied hand. He had a burning fire in his chest, demanding he show you not only your beauty but that you deserved much more than the small cottage you shared with seven other occupants. Your rightful position was right next to him in his palace. You deserved to have everybody else waiting at your beck and call, not the other way around. You insisted you could not leave your family, nevertheless.

-

  “Stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while, my pet.” The two of you lay bare, entangled in silk sheets and each other’s arms. Astarion stroked the delicate pink skin of your cheek with the careful tips of his fingers, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. His words caused you to let out an amused giggle at his bequest. His eyebrows knitted together, and a slight frown played at the edges of his lips. He was serious.

  Your smile dropped, and an apologetic look graced your features. “Oh, Astarion.” You sighed wistfully. “I just can’t. Not right now. Papa’s not doing well; I can’t just abandon him. Lillian needs a lot of guidance at this time, and with Alan having just moved into his own home now that he’s married, there’s no one to take care of our younger sisters.” You sputtered out. Astarion noted the stress that marred your face and decided to drop the matter for now.

  “Sh, my treasure.” He coaxed, pulling your head into his chest. “We can address it later.”

-

  Astarion pondered on when he had gone so soft, for lack of better words. Before you, there was no hesitation to steal what he wanted. Much easier it would have been to just bite you, keeping you to himself for all of eternity. He had thought about it when the disdain of being apart grew too great. This was after you, though. You had brought a bright light into his world of darkness, and he knew you would never be the same if he made such a decision on your behalf. 

  Guilt regularly gnawed at a conscious he wasn’t even aware he’d had. He still hadn’t found the courage to tell you of his true nature. You often called the raised tissue on his neck his vampire bite, and he’d always panic at the joke, wondering if he’d been found out. Inwardly, of course, he ensured he remained calm and collected on appearance. Soon, he told himself. He’d let you enjoy the normalcy of your current relationship for just a while longer.

  Your groan fractured him from his thoughts. “Okay, it’s actually terrible. Please don’t laugh at me.” You pouted. 

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.” Astarion assured, setting his book down on the table before him, pushing back his chair, and standing up. He bent down to get a better look at the canvas. “My, that’s a beautifully eclectic rendition of yours truly.” He hums, resting his hands on your shoulders, squeezing in encouragement. He meant it. It was something you had created; of course he would love it.

  “Okay, you are officially the biggest liar I know.” You grinned, patting his hand softly as he shifted away. Georgie stretched in your lap. You placed him down, smiling as he hurried away into the open door of the manor.

  “Your words wound me.” He holds his hands to his chest dramatically. “I’ll display it in the foyer.” His finger reaches to tap the tip of your nose playfully.

  “I guess it must truly be Astarion approved then.” You hummed, recalling how tumultuous he had acted when replacing the art in his foyer. It must be perfect, he had said; first impressions are everything, my dear. “I don’t think your guests would be in agreeance with you.” At this point, you had stood on your tip-toes, planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

  He dismissed your presumption with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense, my love. You question my tastes? When I’ve got you on my arm? I’ve already won.” His index finger taps the underside of your chin, encouraging your mouth to his. You oblige, and Astarion lets out a delighted laugh against your lips. He would never grow tired of how easily you unraveled for him and him only. Without breaking contact, he reaches down to grip the backs of your thighs, lifting you from the ground and setting you on the garden table.

  Your breathing hitched as his hands wrought at the bottom of your dress, pushing the hem up until it pooled around your waist. His fingers brushed your mound over already-soaked underwear. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “So ready for me already, pet? I’ve barely touched you.” Spoken like a purr, causing goosebumps to bloom over your skin. He buried his nose into your neck and breathed your scent in deeply. Chamomile and lavender had become distinctively you. His eyes close as your fingers tread over his scalp, hooking into his hair. “Keep touching me like that, treasure. I’ll fuck you right here.” 

  “Please. It’s been too long.” You murmur. It had indeed, he thought. This was your first day together after being apart for ten long, agonizing days. His fingers push your underwear to the side, the tips hardly swiping over your drenched core. The contact motivated your body further against him. Your breasts pressed to his firm chest, and he brought his unoccupied hand to sit atop them, thumb stroking delicious skin.

  Greedy hands moved to the front of his trousers and at the feeling of his bulge, you ached to feel him inside of you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and tenderly pushed your hands away. Your expression was one of rejection that panged Astarion’s undead heart, but his demeanor was one of significance. He took your hands in his as he stared deeply into your eyes. “Stay with me, Tav. The manor has never been this airy without you. I mean- I understand you have responsibilities you believe are your own, but I could give you everything.”

  With a furrowed brow, you sluggishly pull away from him. “These responsibilities are my own. This is my family, Astarion.” You pursed your lips, looking everywhere but at the man before you.

  “Pet, don’t be silly. They are holding you back. I recognize you love them, but you cannot put your needs on hold to protect them forever.” He reaches out to brush the hair from your face, but you quickly dodge the touch, pressing him aside so you can stand from your position on the table. His jaw clenches in annoyance, but he allows you your space.

  “So, what? My father will be buried beside my mother soon, and you are so selfish that you can’t even give me the grace to spend his last days with him.” He had never seen the fire on your face; your usual demeanor dissolved.

  Astarion’s jaw slackens, and he shakes his head in response. “I’m just thinking big picture. Where will your sisters go when the time comes, Tav? Are you to give your entire life to them? How is it fair to you?”

  “If that is what must be done, then so be it.” Astarion noted how heavy your chest heaved, your body shaking from anger. You were angry with him.

  “And what of me?” He was mindful of how needy and, as you said, selfish he sounded but couldn’t hold back. “What do you want with me if not forever?” Indeed, you couldn’t expect him to house the entire cavalry that was your family.

  You froze and gulped in a large breath to calm your nerves. Maybe you have been negligent of his feelings as things grew more serious between you two. “I want you, Astarion. I want everything with you. I want to take your last name. I want to bear your children. I want to care for you until we’re both old and gray.” There’s a crack in your voice as you stifle back tears. Astarion’s stare softens, his stomach plunging at the knowledge of only ever being able to gift you one of those things. “I’ve always dreamt of creating a family of my own. Of being a mother to children created with the man I love.” You pause to swipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But I can’t leave my sisters to fend for themselves. I won’t.” 

  Astarion observes you as you collect your shawl, exiting the garden without another word. He’d let things go too far. He’d led you to believe this future you dreamed of could be achieved with him and even encouraged the delusions in his own way. Perhaps you would be better off if this relationship came to a close.

[senualothbrok]

Nocturnal postulations

Summary: A response to @inglorionamy-ammy's prompt about a Tav who gets grumpy when sleep-deprived, reacting to a Gale who sleep-talks a lot and then jokes about it.

Featuring borrowed in-game banter between Gale and Lae'zel.

Word count: 1k

A/N: Just a little silly something - I may or may not have channelled my own inability to stay mad at Gale and clingy nature towards the end. @inglorionamy-ammy and all - hope you like it!

It is more a shove than a nudge. You jolt awake, then wince and hunch back into yourself. You are exhausted. The morning sunlight sears your eyes as you fumble at the grilled sausage that was halfway to your mouth. 

“Chk.” Lae'zel grizzles beside you. “If I must wake you one more time, you’d do better to remain in your bedroll. You'll only drag us down on the battlefield in this” – she wrinkles her nose – “state.”

You yawn, glaring, sullen. You have not had a proper night's sleep for weeks. At this moment, all you want is pure, unadulterated silence. You cannot summon the energy to grunt, much less talk. From your other side, Gale waves a dismissive hand.

“Come now, Lae'zel,” he huffs. You flinch a little at his jolliness. “Not all of us are so eager for the delights of the day. Give Tav some time.”

Lae’zel narrows her eyes. She jerks her head brusquely. 

“Gale.” She grimaces at you. “I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey.”

Gale's eyebrows lift. The smirk he flashes would usually be endearing.

“And deprive her of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations?” He chuckles. “I'd never be so cruel.”

You have the urge to press down Gale's waggling finger as you rub at your temples and your eyes. He tuts.

“The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.”

Lae'zel snorts. You stare at Gale, your eyebrow twitching. Gale continues obliviously.

“I’d say it's a privilege, to share in the pleasures of my mind and body.” He bobs his head brightly. “What’s a little sleep compared to that?”

You consider yourself a patient person. You love Gale with all your heart. But for weeks, you have tossed and turned beside him, plugging your ears and stifling screams through his incoherent, neverending ramblings. You are so tired you could cry. All you want is a good night's sleep. One, just one. Is that too much to ask?

A sharp groan bursts out of you. You fling your half eaten sausage on the ground and storm back into your tent.

****

You are scowling as you stuff your satchel for the day ahead. Grumbling to yourself, you hear a shuffling behind you, a nervous cough. 

“My love.” He clears his throat. “Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” Your voice sounds pinched and petty, but you do not care. “I've had the privilege of your nocturnal postulations. So riveting. So educational. How could I not be alright?”

You realise that your satchel is full to bursting at this point. You swear as you struggle to fasten it shut.

He drifts into your vision, hovering anxiously. You know you are becoming a stereotype, a caricature, when you have always thought yourself reasonable and kind. But his lack of understanding infuriates you. 

He scratches his head. “My love, I'm not sure–”

“I'm exhausted, Gale,” you snap. “I need sleep. Can't you see that?” 

His brows steeple, realisation flashing across his face. 

“It isn't a joke,” you seethe. “It isn't funny. It's been weeks. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

His eyes widen. “Tav, I didn't realise–”

You jerk your hands. “Don't give me that face, those big cow eyes, like it's me who's done something wrong.”

But he looks so guilty, so upset, that you cannot continue. You let out a weary sigh, dropping your satchel on the ground in defeat. This is a battle you have no strength to fight. And you would never want to fight him, no matter how incensed you are with his jokes.

“I know you can't help it,” you mumble after a while. “You're literally asleep. You have no control over it.” 

Gale opens his mouth, then closes it. You can feel his mind racing, each thought stumbling over itself in desperate contrition, fearful that any word he utters will only make things worse. Seeing him like this, you cannot help but feel shame at your anger.

“I’m sorry, Tav,” he breathes eventually. “I was insensitive, flippant. I never meant to make light of your grievances. Nothing matters more to me than your struggles. I would never dismiss them.”

He reaches for your hand. As your fingers interlace with his, you let your walls crumble Your fire simmers away.

“Why didn't you tell me?” His voice is pained. “I could have gone back to my tent. I could have figured out a spell, some remedy to stop it. To give you some peace.”

By instinct, you shake your head, sharp and resolute. He looks at you in confusion. You chew your lip. Gingerly, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face into the crook of his neck. His body tenses in surprise, then softens into you, his hand resting on the back of your head. 

“Because I like sleeping with you,” you admit. “It's...not the same…without you. I can't sleep anymore…if you're not with me.”

You feel exposed, somehow, caught in a trap of your own making. Now your fury feels ridiculous, insane. He must see it. But he huffs, and you can hear the grin that tugs at his lips. He holds you closer, enjoying your need to be closer. Sharing in it.

“Be that as it may,” he says softly, “I'll let you sleep alone tonight. You clearly need some rest.”

You cling to him more tightly. Your body yearns for sleep, but bemoans the idea of sleeping without him. He senses it immediately. He laughs a little, a wave of gentle affection that rumbles through you, as he nuzzles the crown of your head.

“Well, then,” he sighs. “At the very least, I'll make sure you fall asleep first. And should I talk in my sleep, you have permission to wake me, or send me back to my own bedroll. Is that an acceptable compromise?”

You look up at him, nodding slowly. How could you ever be mad at him? His lips graze your forehead, and the feeling of his beard on your skin is as soothing as a lullaby. 

“I will be working on the remedy though,” he mutters. “There must be a spell for it–”

You silence his ramblings with a kiss.

****

Liked this drabble? Check out my other work

[redlittlefoxari]

Astrion Epilogue: An Adventure in Making a Life

Chapter Six: On the road with secrets

Summary: The Party gets suspicious when Tav suddenly starts having morning sickness. Tav and Astsrion try to explain the sickness without giving away that Tav is Seven Weeks pregnant.

Warnings: NSFW+18, smut, pregnancy, blood, violence, fluff, angst.

Relationship: Astarion X Tav

Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate) Karlach (Baldur's Gate)Gale (Baldur's Gate) Wyll (Baldur's Gate) Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate)Lae'zel (Baldur's Gate) Tav (Baldur's Gate) Jaheira (Baldur's Gate) Halsin(Baldur's Gate)

Master List

Seven weeks pregnant 

It had been a week since you started the journey to water deep, and today was the worst day. You awoke to your stomach reeling and barely made out your tent flaps before last night's dinner made its way up your throat and lips. You spent several moments heaving up the dinner Astarion made for you. The red contents thankfully looked like wine and not the blood mixed with cherry juice you had last night. You prayed that your friends would think you had too much wine last night and not question you much about your morning sickness. 

Astarion emerged from the tent in the middle of your heaving and rubbed small circles around your back in soothing comfort. There wasn't much he could do for you now but give you some form of comfort until this passed. 

At the commotion, the others started to stir from their tents and eyed the two of you with worry. Shadowhearts eyebrow was raised in suspicion a question forming in her mind. You weren't seen with any alcohol last night and had refused when she offered you a drink of her stash last night, claiming you brought your own. By the look on her face, you gaged that she was playing back the night's events in her mind. 

"You know how it is, Shadowheart?" Astarion was quick: "One too many glasses of wine and a night of passion upsets the stomach after." 

You let out a huff of air and whipped your lips. Your mouth tasted like cherries and blood. Cherry juice had the same metallic taste of blood but cut with an edge of sweetness that you have been craving this pregnancy. You still ate other foods because Astarion wouldn't let you eat cake and other sweet confections, but they were still what you craved the most. 

"Yup… Just too much good wine and… passion." You gave Astarion a sideways glare. Did he have to add the passion part? You just got back a sly smile as a response. 

"What vintage was it?" 

"What?" You weren't expecting to get interrogated. 

"I want to get a bottle when we return to the city. If it did that to you, I'm sure it's robust." She started to close the distance, avoiding the puddle you made. 

"I don't remember… I was really drunk by the time…"

"Where is the bottle that will tell us." She looked over your shoulder. 

"Do you think this is the time to question her about wine?" Karlach stepped in to save you. "She just got sick all over herself, and you're more worried about the vintage so you can get drunk better? You need to check yourself into a program, I swear."

Gods, you loved this big beautiful teifling. Shadowheart was right to be suspicious, but Astarion and you agreed that you wouldn't tell you about the pregnancy until you hit the second trimester at fourteen weeks. The perfect timing for the party. You would party to celebrate Gale, and then after the celebration, when everything would die down, and the rest of the guests would leave. It was just you, Karlach, Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion; you would tell them the good news. But for now, too many things could go wrong. There were too many unknowns; it was better to keep it under wraps for now, lying when you needed to. 

"I don't have a problem. I didn't see her drinking last night." Shadowhert turned to face Karlach, who had a good two feet on her. 

"Their tent has flaps, so unless you can peer through solid objects, my guess is that she drank the wine behind it. Now, can we get a move on? We'er burring daylight." Karlach turned to hers and Wyll's tent to start packing it away. 

"If we find the bottle or remember the vintage, we will be sure to let you know, Shadowheart," Astarion said with a cool bit of ice in his words. 

"I'm sure you will… feel better. We have a long journey today." With that, shadowheart walked away to her own tent. 

"She was always suspicious." Astarion's eyes bore into the back of her head.

"She was trained too; let's just pack up and get ready to leave; hopefully, when we get onto the road, they will forget about this, and next time I have morning sickness, I'll try to throw up more quietly and in the bushes." You turned and walked into your tent with Astarion at your heels. 

"She's like a dog with a bone. She won't let this go, but when we stop in the next town, we can slip away and buy some bottles of wine. That may sway her. She can't see us buy them." You nodded at his words. It might work. 

"Okay, we'll do that in the next town, but that's still fifteen days away. What do we do if I get sick before then?" Your question hung in the air for a few seconds. 

"Food poisoning?" He shrugged. "We are cooking everything over a fire on sticks found in the woods. Who knows what things are on them."

"Okay, we'll go with that for now, but we need to think of something else." You gave him a light kiss on his lips, not wanting him to taste too much of what you regurgitated. 

Before you could pull away, Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, causing you to gasp, allowing him to pull you into a complex, demanding kiss that searched your mouth with his tongue. You moaned into the kiss as the feel of him inside your mouth awoke something in you that you didn't know you could feel after throwing up everything in your stomach. 

Astarion ended the kiss and placed the hand that wasn't around your wrist so that it cupped your face on one side. "I would kiss you even if you tasted like garlic, and it would burn me from the inside out. Never think I wouldn't want to kiss you like that for a moment."

Your cheeks felt hot at his decoration of love and devotion. You knew he felt that way, but this baby made your emotions go haywire. Mood swings were becoming more familiar to you, and it didn't help that something was getting bigger every time you looked in the mirror. Your hips were fuller, your breasts bigger, and it was getting more and more challenging to get into your armor by the day. You were feeling insecure about everything that made you who you are. 

"I know it's just… This baby is changing me, and whenever I look in the mirror, I see a different person." You looked away from his pricing stare, his red eyes seeming like they were looking into your soul. 

"You know what I see when I look at you?" He pulled your gaze back towards his eyes. "I see the beautiful woman who is carrying my child inside her, and whenever I look at you, I have to fight every fiber of my being not to rip your clothes off and have you in front of the gods and everyone." You placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen besides myself." 

You snorted a laugh and were fighting back tears. 

"But you are even before me." His hand moved from your wrist to your belly. "This is a gift, making you more beautiful by the day, my love." 

"Thank you, Astarion." You rubbed tears out of your eyes. 

"Don't thank me for telling you the truth. Now, let's get you something to eat before we start packing up and leaving. We can't have you starving." Astarion gave you one more kiss, choosing to place it on your forehead before he turned to his pack and pulled out a jar of chilled blood mixed with some cherry juice. The jars were wrapped in cloths woven in frost giant hair that radiated cold energy, keeping whatever was wrapped in them cold and thus significantly increasing the time things could be kept. 

"This was such a clever idea. We should paton this and sell it around Baldur's Gate. We could be rich." Astarion handed you your jar.

"It just came to me one day. If we did sell this, we would probably never have to go on another adventure again. We could buy a big house in the upper city and raise our child." You slowly sipped your breakfast, fearing that it would come up to greet you again if you didn't pace yourself. 

"Now that does sound nice." Astarion grabbed a jar of blood for himself and began doing the same. The both of you are thinking of the future that you would share with your selves and your unborn child. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the day, your feet felt beyond swollen. Twenty-four miles later, you finally reached the ruins that would be your campsite for the night. They were of an old temple to a god long past dead and gone, but the centuries still held many secrets. The stones were crumbling, but they would make do for just one night as the likelihood of the whole thing collapsing was a slim possibility. 

"Are you doing alright?" You heard Wyll's voice as you stopped just before the entrance of the ruins to take off your boots and rub your tired feet. 

"Oh yeah, I'm doing fine; it's been a while since I walked this much. My feet seemed to have lost their natural calluses." You plastered a smile on your face, hoping it would convince him of your authenticity.

"I know what you mean; Karlach and I have slowed down during the years. We still go out on adventures, but for the most part, we try to stay home and relax." Wyll returned your smile with one of his own. 

The two of you chatted while the others made their way farther along the trail leading to the ruins. Karlach and Astarion were deep in conversation about the many things they had been up to and the beasts they had slain over the last fifty years. Time moved differently in the hells than it did on this plain, so there was a lot to talk about and catch up with. 

Shadowheart just listened and made comments every once in a great while. You knew that what happened this morning was still bawling at her. She knew something was up, and it wasn't that you got so drunk that you made yourself sick. You just hoped that she would respect your privacy and not investigate the subject any further. You were leaning towards her doing as when she had her secrets about Shar and the prism when you first met; you didn't pepper her with questions. You let her open up to you in her own time, and she respected you for it. She would give you the same courtesy you had hoped for. 

"We should probably catch back up to the others." You slipped your boots back on and got up from the log, shouldering your pack once again as you started to make your way to where the others were.

"Right, I'm ready to make camp for the night and sleep! I'm getting too old for this." Wyll did the same and joined you. 

"Nonsense, I think you have another forty years of adventuring left!" The two of you laughed. 

"Gods, I hope not. I want to buy some land outside the city and just live." 

The way Wyll spoke made you think of your plans. You resisted the urge to place your hand on your stomach. They would be a dead giveaway, and as far as your friends knew, you didn't want to have children and couldn't as long as Astarion was your partner. So, no one talked of children; none of you currently have children. At least none that you knew of. 

You didn't hear the arrows as they came towards you. Still, you felt the impact as they embedded themselves in your shoulder and stomach. They sent you careening toward the ground. Your back hit the ground, and you heard Astarion scream your name, terror in his voice. 

Bandits surrounded you and Wyll. Five of them total were probably there to see if they could find the secrets of the ruins and thought your little group was too. So they were going to take care of you. That way, they didn't need to share. 

Wyll produced his rapier and put it through the heart of one of the bandits. At the same time, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Astarion raced to where the two of you were located. You slowly made your way up from prone, your shoulder throbbing in pain from the arrow protruding out from it. You looked for an opening to run; you were skilled with a bow, and close combat was not your strongest skill. You saw an opening between Wyll and the bandit he downed and dashed beyond them. 

Astarion made quick work of one bandit ripping the throat and sucking him dry of blood. Crimson dripped from his chin, and he was a sight to behold. Red eyes seemed to glow as he locked eyes with you and motioned for you to run.

 You gave him a nod; as you turned your back, holding your shoulder, you heard a familiar spell being cast. Hail of thorns. This time, you listened to the hundreds of thorns coming towards you. It seemed that your running away made you the prime target since you were not paying attention to anyone and would be the most distracted. You braced yourself for the impact of the thorns, but they never came when you turned to see why Astarion was shielding you with his body. 

You heard a wet crunch as Karlach Sliced the last bandit with her great axe, and the others came towards you and Astarion. He looked like a porcupine. Long thorns were jutting out from his back, but he didn't seem to notice as he touched you all over. 

"Are you alright?" He touched the arrow that was embedded in your stomach, a look of terror etched on his face. 

"I don't know…" You knew what you looked like. Scared, the two of you had no way of knowing what was going on inside you or if your child was okay. Fear gripped your heart, and you tried not to cry. 

"The two of you look alright to me." Shadowheart looked confused at your words. "Let's get these arrows and thorns out of the two of you, and I'll heal you. It will be like that never happened."

The two of you ignored her and just stared into each other's eyes. You were frozen with fear. Astarion placed his hand on your stomach, making it look like he would pull the arrow free, but he was looking for any sign. Anything that would let him know that the baby was okay that they were alive and well, and the arrow missed him. 

There was nothing, and you saw a look pass across his face. He schooled his features, and you could tell that he was trying to concentrate on something. "I hear it…. I hear their heartbeat." He spoke at a volume that was barely a whisper. "I hear the heartbeat." 

The tears that you were holding back free from your eyes, and you couldn't make them stop. Astarion pressed a kiss to your lips and then one on your forehead. The fear that gripped your heart released, and you grabbed the arrow, pulling it from your body but to have an excuse to hold your stomach. 

The other three exchanged a look of confusion. "The two of you have gotten into worse scraps than that…. I do not see how this is getting such a reaction." Karlach spoke, her voice edged with worry. 

"Yes, well, we always do this when the other gets hurt. Plus, I needed to find out what those arrows were tipped with. I had to give her a full examination." 

Astarion's statement didn't do much to quell their confusion, but they couldn't argue with it very much either. He allowed Shadowheart to pull the needles out only after she healed you first. She did so, and then you and she pulled the hundreds of pins out individually. 

By the time the five of you made camp, the night was falling, and you forgot the tents and instead decided to sleep on the ground since the ruins provided enough cover. The rest of the night was quiet as the others gave you and Astarion a wide berth, not sure what to say after yours and Astarion's weird reaction to you getting shot earlier. 

"That was too close." Astarion came and sat beside you. 

"I know, but we couldn't have known they would attack." 

"We should have assumed someone was here. This place…. It attracts people like that." You took Astarion's hand.

"We'll just have to assume that from now on. We got too comfortable around friends." You looked at the others in the camp, and they all looked away from you, trying to look casual, like they weren't just watching the two of you. 

"I swear these people are so nosy."

"They are concerned that our reactions today were a bit weird for someone who doesn't know what's happening." You looked back to Astarion. "They just care about us."

*tisk* Astarion clicked his tongue. "All this love is making me queasy." He stood up. "Let's go to bed before I get sick." 

You rolled your eyes and took his hand. The two of you made your way back to camp. You pulled a jar of your "wine" from your bag and took a long drag off it so Shadowheart would see. Earlier that day, you snuck over to her tent and found an empty bottle of wine. You quickly snatched it and poured your "wine" into the bottle. She gave you a nod. 

"Glad you're feeling better." She closed the distance. "If you need to talk to someone about anything, don't hesitate." She gave your hand a quick squeeze. "You helped me get free of Shar and helped me find out who I really was. I will help you through anything. You are my friend." 

"I know, and when I'm ready to talk, I will, but now is not the right time." You said as you returned her smile. 

She nodded at your words and looked towards Astarion. "Until you are ready as well."

"I'll be sure to let you know when I'm ready to braid each other's hair and trade this tale, but my lips are sealed for now." 

Shadowheart gave your hand one last squeeze and walked to her bed roll. You and Astarion did the same, lying beside each other with your hands on your stomachs under the covers where the others couldn't see. 

[thecampjuicebox]

Hi! I would absolutely love shameless smut Astarion x f!Tav (or f!reader) with some oral ministrations ^-^

Hi sweets! Your wish is my commend! I've been waitin' for this one. *cracks knuckles* Let's do this.

Hunger

Pairing: Tav(f) x Astarion

POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, oral (f/m giving/receiving), biting, choking, Dom Astarion x Sub Tav, gentle face slapping

Sleep eludes you this particular night, your brain running through the recent events of the past few days. The nautiloid, the tadpoles, gathering this seemingly harmless band of misfits, it's all so.. Strange. Before waking up in the grasp of the mindflayers, your life was simple. A merchant and artist in Baldur's Gate. During the day, you were peddling your wares to the higher society of the city, making a name for yourself amongst the lords and ladies. You specialized in jewelry, mostly. Adorning the necks of the wealthy with the finest jewels Faerun has to offer. You breathe slowly, eyelashes fluttering at the memory. You'd had your fair share of meetings with some of the most eligible fellows in the upper city because of your line of work. Each one of them powerful, wealthy. Insanely wealthy. You've danced with Lordlings, held hands with Dukes, even been bedded by a magistrate or two. None of them compared to the pale skinned elf you happened to pick up after the crash. Astarion. He's so.. Different. Your mind reels at the very idea of him and you fidget in your bedroll.

Tired eyes snap open at the sudden sound of shuffling beside you, the sight of that very elf leaning over you with fangs bared sending you into a daze. He widens his eyes at you, backing away slowly. "Shit." You hurry to your feet, taking a defensive stance towards the intruder. He blinks at you innocently.

"I-It's not what it looks like! I swear!"

Crossing your arms over your chest, you eye him for a moment, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"I wasn't going to hurt you.. I just need, well, blood."

Shit. You stare at him blankly for a moment, mind racing. It all makes so much sense now. His lack of appetite, his blatantly obvious sneaking off at night, the dead boar your group found on the bridge to the Blighted Village. Perfectly drained of blood from no more than two little pinholes in its neck. Of course. He's a vampire. You pause for a moment, considering the implications of your discovery. Heat travels down your spine and stings in your core. You stand firm, furrowing your eyebrows to seem angrier than you really are.

"I can't believe I didn't see it. We even found your last meal lying in the road. Clever of you to act so naïve about the situation. Bravo."

His posture straightens and he places his hands on his hips, lips curving into that devilish grin that makes your knees week. The vampire quirks an eyebrow at you then drags his eyes down your body before meeting your eyes again. His intense gaze makes you shiver. Picking at your fingernails, you chew your bottom lip nervously and kick your foot at the dirt beneath you. Astarion drums his fingers against his hip bones.

"I usually feed on animals. Boars, Kobolds, whatever I can find really. But right now I'm too slow. Too weak. If I could just have a little blood.. I could fight better."

You nod slowly and weigh your options. This could help him. You need him strong to fight the massive hoards of enemies you and your group seem to continuously encounter. What's a little bite? You smirk at your next thought, cheeks unknowingly burning hot the moment the idea crosses your mind. You'll also have the chance to be deliciously close to the vampling. No, don't think like that. The tadpole squirms with excitement in your brain, making you wince slightly at the sudden movement behind your eyes. You sigh and straighten your posture.

"Fine. But not a drop more than you need."

"What? I- Okay. Yes. Perfectly reasonable. Shall we make ourselves comfortable?"

Astarion motions towards his dimly lit tent and you nod, keeping a death grip on your bottom lip between your teeth. His hand rests at the small of your back to guide you into the cramped living space, the gentle yet dominant gesture making your knees nearly buckle underneath you. His breath is warm on your ear. "Lie down." Without hesitation, you lower yourself knees first to his bedroll, a quiet growl rumbling in the vampire's chest as he watches you closely. You choke back a quiet whimper, clearing your throat quickly. Astarion moves next to you and smiles, giving your shoulder a gentle push to lower you the rest of the way to the plush surface beneath you. A trembling hand moves up to cup the back of your head.

"Stay still for me.."

Before you can respond the vampire bares his fangs, moving in to plunge them deep into the sensitive flesh of your neck. Icy hot pain courses through you, each vein in your body simultaneously burning. You whimper up into Astarion's ear. The hand on the back of your head tightens its grip, holding onto your soft hair now. Your mouth falls open at the tension on the back of your head. "A-Astarion.." Is all you can say as his tongue laps at the fresh wounds on your neck, little grunts of enjoyment vibrating your skin. You mewl at the new sensation and grab a fistful of his shirt, desperately pulling him closer to you. He finally breaks contact with your neck, gazing down at you with drunken eyes.

"Gods, you're.. Delicious.."

Little black spots speckle your vision as you try to focus on Astarion's face, a woozy feeling rushing over you suddenly. He must've been starving, he's basically drained you and left you on empty. Your heart thumps in your ears. Soft hands push the hair from your face before resting on your cheeks, giving the now sickly pale skin a few little gentle slaps. A devilish grin thins your lips.

"That was incredible. I feel incredible."

...

Late night feedings have become a regular thing for you and Astarion. You reveled in the intimate way he'd hold you close to him to ensure you wouldn't move, hand tangling in your hair to keep your neck steady. It left you needy every single time, often excusing yourself to a secluded part in the woods to relieve the urges, the freedom to be as loud as you want. Tonight is one of those nights.

Astarion stands and wipes his lips with the back of his hand, licking the remnants of your blood carefully from his skin. He groans happily before helping you back to your feet. You smile and say your goodbyes quickly, dashing out of the tent. He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for your footsteps to fall silent before peaking his head out of his tent, scanning around for you. He spots you ducking into the woods and pure curiosity wills him to follow. "Where in the hells is she going?" Astarion slinks out of his tent and picks up on your scent like a lost dog, carefully following your trail. He crouches low, making sure to leave a decent amount of distance between you so you don't detect his presence.

You tip toe through the thick foliage, leaves quietly crunching under your boots. Stopping in your usual clearing, you sigh heavily, carefully scoping out the area for any intruders before lowering yourself to the ground. Shaky fingers unlace your boots and kick them off in a rush, fumbling with the ties on your shirt. You groan with anticipation and fling the garment to the side, standing up to quickly shimmy out of your leathers. Goosebumps raise all over your pale skin at the cool night air and you slide out of your underwear last, a sticky puddle of arousal staining the fabric. You toss those aside, eyes doing another once-over of the land. No one in sight. You lean against a large oak tree and stare up at the sky, gulping down the massive lump in your throat. You're so desperate for release. So needy. So wet. You close your eyes and allow your fingers to travel over your chest, little whimpers escaping your dry throat as you carefully circle your painfully erect nipples. You give one a pinch, grinding your hips at the air. "F-Fuck.."

Astarion breeches the thick line of trees and enters the clearing quietly, eyes roaming the area in search of you. He catches a glimpse of your boots and smirks, gaze flicking to your pile of clothes. "The little devil." His pointy ears perk up at your moan and he leans in the direction of the sound, holding his breath for a moment to listen even closer. Stifling a moan of his own, he moves towards the tree you're leaning against, eyes fixed on your profile. Without noticing the intruder, your fingers slide down your abdomen, muscles flexing at the feather light touch before hungrily dipping between your folds. You tilt your head higher, jaw falling open as you collect your arousal on your fingers and carefully shimmy your feet further apart to give yourself more room to work. Your knees buckle, your belly aches with desire, your skin burns for attention. Astarion moves in closer, the sound of his shuddering breath causing you to freeze. Your eyes snap open.

"W-who's there? I swear to the gods above, I'll kill you."

The vampire moves into view, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip to moisten the skin. He steps in front of you, placing both hands on the tree to trap you between his body and the tall oak. You gaze up at him, blinking in embarrassment.

"Having all of this fun without me, pet? I'm hurt."

"I.. I just.. Didn't want to bother you with asking. Wasn't sure you'd be interested?"

"Hmph. May I?"

You nod quickly at his question, pushing your hips forward. Astarion tuts, reaching a hand down to rub over your sensitive mound, earning a strained moan. He leans in close to your ear, exhaling slowly before biting at your lobe, a low growl building in his belly.

"At least you had the decency to consider my feelings. How sweet of you."

He presses a single digit to your clit and rubs slow circles, cooing into your ear after each of your whimpers as he gradually picks up speed. Both of your hands find the front of his shirt and give it a rough tug to pull him closer to you, hips bucking up against his touch. He licks a slow, hot stripe up the side of your neck, the still fresh bite mark stinging from his saliva. You chew your lip for a moment, releasing the flesh to whisper up at him.

"May I touch you?"

His fingers pause at your words and he stares down at you, expression melting into one of almost sadness. No one has ever asked to touch him as sweetly as you just did. He's so used to being just a body, a toy. Someone for people to play with as they please. Tears well up in the corners of his eyes and he blinks them away quickly. You back yourself against the tree and wait for his response, hands resting at your sides, The vampire nods down at you, mumbling a soft "Please." You flash a sweet smile up at him, placing your hands on his chest and slowly sliding them down his slender body, falling to your knees. He gasps at the touch, head tilting up towards the sky. A hand instinctively rests on the back of your head.

"If at any point you get uncomfortable, please tell me and I'll stop, okay?"

He beams down at you, bottom lip quivering. You quickly undo the lacing on his leathers and press gentle kisses to his already stiff cock through the fabric, Astarion grasping a handful of your hair in response. You giggle to yourself and tug his leathers down carefully. "Mm.." His eyes darken with lust. He tugs your hair to tilt your head up, forcing you to look at him. His hand leaves your hair and circles around your neck, fingers fitting perfectly in the subtle indents just below your jawline. You grunt at the sudden restriction of air.

"Such a good pet. So obedient for me. I want you to touch yourself while I fuck your throat. Can you do that?"

You groan and nod up at him, face turning red from the lack of oxygen. He releases your neck, giving your cheek a gentle slap before grasping your jaw firmly, fingers sliding upwards to squish your cheeks together.

"Good girl."

You mewl at the roughness of his hands, cunt dripping onto your thick thighs. He releases your face and frees his cock from the constricting leather. You part your knees and slide a hand down between them, fingers swirling around in the mess. Astarion grasps his cock in his hand, giving it a few pumps before pressing the weeping tip to your lips, swiping the pre-cum around your cheeks and mouth.

"Open."

You obey happily, parting your lips and letting your tongue lull out, a thin line of drool falling onto your chest. The vampire taps his throbbing member against your tongue, swiping it back and forth before shoving it as far into your mouth as he can. Your lips wrap tightly around the base as he bottoms out. His head falls back, jaw slack from the warmth of your mouth. You bob your head carefully after giving yourself a moment to adjust to his girth in your throat and your fingers move furiously against your clit, slick coating your trembling hand. Your free hand sits firm on the ground beneath you to hold you steady. Astarions hands move to your hair, grabbing a fistful on each side of your head to keep you in place as he fucks into your throat, groaning with each thrust. Drool spills out of the corners of your mouth when he pushes in. He pauses his thrusts and slides his boot between your legs, gritting his teeth before growling down at you.

"Fuck yourself on my boot like a good pet. Show me how needy you are."

You scoot closer on your knees, lowering yourself onto the shiny top of his boot and you grind your hips into the leather, both arms wrapping around his leg to hold you steady. He resumes his quick thrusts into your throat, rhythm beginning to falter as he nears his end. He gasps for air. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." You stick your tongue out once more to rub against the underside of his cock, earning a loud moan from the pale elf towering above you. "Gods, please. I'm so close." His voice is desperate now, tough exterior crumbling in front of you. He bucks his hips furiously into your face, the tip of his cock brushing the very back of your throat and you stifle a gag, only earning another moan at the way your throat tightens around him. You grind down roughly onto his boot still, slick coating the black leather. He snaps, completely coming undone, hot ropes of cum shooting into the back of your throat and you swallow quickly, making sure to milk every last drop. The vampire shudders and pulls himself away from you and you keen at the emptiness, a string of drool and cum still connecting the two you of you. You flick your tongue out to collect the fluid, hips still moving in a slow steady motion and you gasp as he lifts his foot into you slightly.

"Filthy."

You grin, moaning up at him, chest heaving as you gasp for air. Swift hands yank you up off of the ground, your back slamming into the oak tree behind you. Astarion's lips crash to yours and you melt in his embrace. His tongue wrestles for dominance in your mouth, the taste of him still lingering there. You groan into his mouth quietly and wrap one leg around his waist, the other still supporting your weight. The kiss feels like it goes on for years, lips moving in perfect harmony. This is perfect. He is perfect. Astarion pulls away from your lips and you whine at the lack of touch, eyes fluttering open to stare up at him.

"May I taste you, pet?"

Astarion's sudden change of tone makes your heart flutter and you nod quickly, resting your ass against the tree. He kneels carefully, nose leaving a soft trail down your hip bone and to the top of your mound. He presses gentle kisses there for a moment. Your hips twitch, a hand reaching out to stroke his hair back lovingly. Without warning, he lifts you up, tossing your legs over his shoulders, pinning you up in the air against the tree. His hands rest under your thighs, spreading your legs apart as far as your hips will allow, opening you up to him. You gasp and reach your hands up above your head to grip the thick trunk. Astarion dips his tongue between your folds and licks a long stripe to your clit then back down, spreading your thick juices around. He groans at your taste. His lips work against your clit now, sucking the sensitive nub between them, creating a tight seal. You cry out in pleasure, back bowing upwards. The sensations knock the wind out of you. Waves of pleasure send you into a daze as he shoves his tongue into your slit, teeth carefully scraping your clit. His fingers dig into your plush thighs, leaving little indents that will surely bruise. You whine and grind your hips against his tongue. He grins, sticking his tongue out, allowing you to take control and you happily oblige, grinding your aching clit against his warm tongue.

"Gods, Astarion I'm gonna-"

Before you can finish your sentence, the vampire wraps his lips around your clit once more, tongue lapping furiously at the bundle of nerves. Electricity pulses up your spine, your climax exploding inside of you. You fall apart in his arms, crying his name out to the empty clearing, his mouth still working you through your release. The over stimulation causes you to writhe in his embrace and you desperately push on his forehead, doing anything you can to escape his hungry mouth. He chuckles and lowers you to your feet, hands resting on your hips now to hold you steady. He licks his lips, pressing a wet kiss to yours. You shudder at the taste of yourself. Astarion leans in to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, nuzzling his nose into your collar bone and you sigh happily. His voice is low and sultry, breathing still labored.

"You're absolutely divine, my sweet."

You giggle shyly and wrap your arms around the vampire's thin waist, helping him tug his leathers back up into place. Gently trailing your fingers along the skin just above his pants, you gaze up into his eyes, lids lowering. The vampire shudders at your touch, pulling you into a tight hug. Your heart thumps in your chest.

"You're not so bad yourself."

[bloodlust-1]

༻ 3 Nights ༺ part 1

Gortash x fem Tav — mini series Explicit 18+

Summary: Gortash invites Tav to stay 3 days at his palace for the sake of an alliance. Reluctantly, she compromises for peace and it becomes an experience they won’t forget.

T/W: language, manipulation, blood

Notes: okay. Yes, he’s been my new obsession so I had to write something up. This is a bit of a long one, I’m planning to do a few parts in total. Enjoy ;)

Tav arrived at the tyrant’s palace, and she couldn’t shake off the feeling of foreboding that settled in the pit of her stomach.

Arguably, this could be the stupidest thing Tav’s ever done. To agree and comply with Gortash for the sake of an alliance for some sort of peace.

This alliance was just for the time being, of course, Tav was way too ahead of her plans to betray him when the time came. To seal the alliance, Gortash requested Tav to stay 3 days with him. Not a hard task but it made Tav extremely suspicious of him to even request such a thing.

Tav only agreed to see if she could infiltrate any plans stashed away in his office. This could totally be a one-up in the game for her. But for now…Tav forced her shoulders high with a brave feeling in her chest, and she barged right into his palace doors.

Tav was quickly met with metal steel watchers, and they instantly alerted their attention to her, “Lord Gortash has been waiting for you. Meet him upstairs in the main room, he won't ask twice.”

She rolled her eyes and swatted away the watchers. She didn't need an invitation and she sure as hell didn't need to listen to Gortash's orders. She did as she pleased, and with that, she made her way to his quarters. Making a few stops to peer into different doors here and there.

As Tav continued to his quarters she was met with a pair of dark eyes. Gortash's cold, calculating eyes seemed to pierce through her as he welcomed her to his palace. Despite his courteous demeanor, Tav could sense the aura of ruthlessness that surrounded him.

"My favorite little hero is finally here. Come in, make yourself comfortable." His words were laced with veiled threats, and she realized that he pulled out a chair for her.

Tav walked into the room, crossed her arms, and refused to sit, "I hope you have some better guest adequate considering you weren't there to greet me at the palace door. Just remember this whole —" She waved her hands around, "Thing going on is not for fun and games."

Tav despised Gortash for his cruelty and oppression, yet she knew that aligning with him was crucial for achieving her own goals. Her conscience wrestled with the moral implications of her actions, and she found herself questioning whether the ends justified the means.

Gortash's lips tugged into a smile, "Dear, this is so we can trust each other. An alliance is what you want, isn't it? We should trust one another if that's to happen."

His eyes lingered around Tav's body. It admittingly made her a bit uncomfortable although her armour did leave a lot to be desired. "Really? Armor darling. " He clicked his teeth and shook his head, "This is my home, not a battlefield."

He yelled out for a servant, who came scurrying into his quarters, "Please give our guest some proper clothing. She will be staying a couple nights here. She is to look like a proper lady before dinner. Now, go."

Tav's eyebrows furrowed as his cruel words hissed at her, "Excuse me? A 'proper lady'? That's a hunk of bullshit!" She snapped back at Gortash, who quickly ignored her by leaving the room with an amused smug on his face.

"Come, my lady, let's get you cleaned up." Tav was still on guard, but she agreed to give the servant an easy time. So, she followed her into a bedroom attached to a lavish bathroom. A marbled tub ran with warm water that was adorned with many soaps and rose petals.

Gods, when was the last time Tav enjoyed a bath?

The air was filled with the delicate scent of flowers, and Tav undressed her armor, letting it fall onto the carpet. She stepped into the warm embrace of the water and cleansed herself of any traveler grim. The soaps soaked into her skin, leaving Tav smelling divine.

After her bath, there was a set of clothes laid on the edge of the bed. Tav tried on the white dress, with golden embroidering and frilled sleeves. There was also a black corset to pull the whole outfit together. Tav felt beautiful yet uncomfortable.

The same servant walked into the room with a hairbrush and pins, "Allow me to pin your hair, my lady."

Some time had gone by before Tav was deemed "acceptable" to sit with Gortash for dinner. She thought it was absolutely ridiculous, and these days may go by slower than she thought.

Her heels clicked against the palace floor as she made her way into the dining room. When the doors opened, there he was. Those same dark eyes piercing her own.

The long dining table was set with fine china, crystal glassware, and flickering candlelight. Tav's gown shimmered in the soft glow of the room, and she purposely took her seat at the far end of Gortash.

Tav pulled out the seat and purposely plucked herself onto the chair. She looked the part but certainly didn't act like it.

Gortash’s eyebrows curved into a questionable look. He brought his elbows onto the table, bringing his fists to rest against his mouth. There was a long silent pause, he peered at Tav trying to get a good read on her.

"Let us get to know each other, hm?" He brought his hands away from his face and picked up a glass of wine instead to sip.

Tav hunched over the table, her hands balled into fists. She gave him a threatening stare, "Gortash, Did you not hear me earlier? I am not here for fun and games, so whatever it is you're trying to do — stop it."

He snickered, damn was this amusing for him. He had never met anyone who just waltzed their way into his palace to pick a fight. She was a nobody. Gortash, he was somebody. Yet she came to him with confidence, an alliance, and now she's here in his home. How entertaining was this whole debacle? He wanted to push her as much as he could. It was all a manipulation tactic to see how far he could go.

"Enver— Call me Enver for the next 2 days. But like I stated, let's get to know each other, little hero. I'd love to hear about your background." His head tilted with a mischievous smile on his face.

"That's none of your concern." Tav spat out harshly, with a threatening glare. They were both testing each other.

The air was still and tense, and Gortash's presence dominated the area. His evil smile radiated a chill throughout the room. "Isn't it? I am lord now, and I want all my baldurians to be considered. Especially my most favorite citizen."

He reached out his hand, the tips of his fingers adorned with the sharp glove that pointed into hooks. "I'd love to hear about that pathetic fucking camp you have right outside the city. A shame it would be if something were to happen while their leader's gone."

"What...How did you —"

He spoke with command, "See, that's something I learned about you. When you care to get to know someone, these things come easy. But please, you're welcome to search this whole palace all you want. Maybe you'll find something about me worth learning."

"Okay, I'll humor you— but first, we need to lay some ground rules. If you respect my rules, I'll respect yours. "

"I’m listening, Tav."

A chill ran down her spine when he spoke her name. It cringed her and only made her rules more needed, " 1: You will not hurt my camp, 2: You will not try to attack me, and 3: I will roam freely where I please."

"Yes, yes, and yes, you have my word." He nodded in agreement. The room was tense at this point, but he still locked eyes with Tav. Her beauty was one he saw in paintings, and she was free to his viewing pleasure. A thought crept into his mind: what if she was mine? An interesting thought indeed. He cleared his throat, "Tell me about yourself."

Throughout the meal, the conversation between them was polite but strained. Tav struggled to maintain her composure, her uncertainty about Gortash's intentions gnawing at her. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was walking on thin ice, unsure of what might be his true motive.

Despite her unease, Tav maintained a facade of politeness, engaging in small talk and lurking eyes on one another. She would look away each time she caught herself staring at his exposed chest. It angered her even more that Gortash was attractive. Only when he spoke would his image crumble for her.

As the evening wore on, she found herself carefully measuring her words and actions, acutely aware of the potential consequences of missteps in this precarious situation.

~

After dinner, Tav wandered around the palace. By this time, the sun had set and the palace went dark. Only a few candles lit the room, barely reaching its light out to see clearly. Tav kept a pocket knife on her hidden in the folds of her clothes.

She grabbed a candle stick and began to investigate the rooms. There were many rooms, a lot of them were untouched. Tav thought he must've been very lonely in these walls. instantly she shook her head, she did not want to pity him. After all, he's the villain.

Tav found herself standing in a room aligned with many books and a single desk inside. It appeared to be a study, and she waved her candle around the room. A fresh painting hung on the wall: a portrait of Gortash.

Tav studied the art, and it was a very well drawing of him. It even captured how deep his jacket cut, exposing the hair on his chest. She only knew this by how hard she was staring at it at dinner. Her eyes scanned his face, examining the scars on his jaw that she hadn't noticed.

A handsome man he was, truly.

Tav stepped back from the picture, she was looking for any signs of any importance. The desk was littered with folders, papers, and crumbled notes. She settled the candle on a stand as her fingers sorted out the piles of paper.

Most of what she read was events that already happened from Moonrise. Tav placed the pile down and reached out for one of the crumbled letters. It was a letter about her. Surprisingly, there were people already sending Gortash news about her even before the takedown of Ketherick.

He truly had eyes everywhere.

As her eyes lingered on the note there was a huge knocking noise. Her head shot up and was matched with Gortash’s presence. His broad physic leaned against the door way, his arms crossed and he looked at Tav questionably.

“Well— did you find anything worth learning?” His eyes were cold, his demeanor felt off, and he was already making his way towards her before words could come out.

Tav shot the letter away from her face, “You knew about me this whole time… what’s the point of this? I know my reasonings for an alliance but what’s yours?” There had been tension between them all day and enough was enough. She needed to know his intentions before she stupidly fell into his game.

Gortash grabbed Tav’s chin firmly, forcing her to look up at him. His eyes were filled with a mix of desire and control as he attempted to assert his dominance over her.

Tav's expression remained resolute, refusing to succumb to his intimidation.

She struggled against his hold, refusing to show any sign of submission. Gortash’s grip on her chin tightened. Despite his forceful demeanor, Tav met his gaze with unwavering strength, silently challenging his authority.

“Power, of course. I need you and you need me, so I’ll play nice.” His voice became low, “Only cause I tolerate you.” He forcibly tilted her face as his eyes traced the contours of Tav's face. “You are one fine specimen.”

Tav’s eyes went wide and her face went pale. Did they actually find each other attractive? Gortash continued to speak, “I’ll give you something to imagine: A kingdom loyal to their court. A king and queen sat next to each other as everyone bowed to them. Their power: unmatched. Their strength: untouchable. Their bond: unbreakable. Are you painting this picture? This could be you and I. My equal and my right hand.” The warmth of his breath hit against her skin. She was still under his hold and a rush of warmth hit her body. Her knees buckled and her face grew red. What in the hells was she thinking?!

Tav's heart started to race under his touch. He physically towered over her and his face was undeniably closer to her face than ever. Tav stared at him with defiance but her body language went against her will.

He was just another man under all this drama, and his intimidation felt almost….sensual? It was a mix of emotions she never felt.

“You can let go of my face now.”

With a swift motion, the claw of his glove snagged a small cut on her cheek. Tav winced and used all her force to push him away. She palmed her face, and the slick had already started to drip down her jaw.

Tav's adrenaline kicked in as she pulled the pocket knife out, charging at him with a shove. The blade sunk into the nape of his neck as Tav's body pinned his closely against hers on a wall.

Her eyes raged as she looked into his gaze from the dimmed light. Just as he did, she swiped her knife against his skin. Only enough to create a small laceration just like hers.

His hand gripped Tav's wrist. The claw of his gloves pressed against Tav’s skin— Giving it a tight squeeze, and knocked the knife out of her grip.

With his free hand, he closed the gap between their bodies, “Is this your way of flirting? We’re both a mess now.” The slick of blood streamed down into his chest.

Tav quickly surrendered to the pain that shot up from her wrist. So, she let her restraint down. Gortash saw her surrender and loosened his grip, “Good girl.”

Tav scoffed, “Bastard.”

“I know.”

Gortash let go of her body and walked back to the desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out a small kit of some sort. Gortash then lent out a hand, waiting for Tav to accompany it, “Come, girl.”

She frowned and shook her head, “I’m not holding your hand.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, “Suit yourself. Let that—“ He pointed at her cheek, “get infected all you want.” It was then that Tav noticed it was a medical kit. Was he trying to clean her cut? Strange.

Gortash took the kit and walked out of the study and back into the dark halls. With an annoyed groan, Tav followed aimlessly for him. His heavy boots hitting the floor echoed throughout the hall. It gave the atmosphere an unsettling aura.

She was led into a familiar room— it was exactly the one she settled herself in earlier. Gortash dragged a nearby chair to the end of the bed. He sat down, his legs spread while he hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, “Sit.” He spoke in a commanding monotoned voice.

Tav hesitated, she had little trust in him. However, with a skeptical feeling, Tav sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. Gortash opened the kit and drenched a cotton ball with alcohol, "Look at me." He commanded with a softer tone this time.

Tav sat still as he brought the cotton to her cheek, lightly dabbing it against the wound. She winced and scrunched her face in pain.

Secretly he enjoyed seeing her in pain. Something about the way her eyes weakened sent shivers up his spine. Gortash continued to clean the cut with precision, his touch gentle yet firm. Tav's breathing began to steady as she relaxed into his care.

He reached for a bandage and carefully applied it to Tav's face. He leaned back, admiring his handiwork with a satisfied smile, "While I do enjoy the blood, I wouldn't want to mess the silk bedding. "

"I do as I please." Tav pouted. Her eyes fixated on the now-dried blood that rained down into his chest. Her eyes traced the trail into the same spot she had been staring at dinner. He was...nice, to look at she supposed.

Gortash leaned closer to her, he had caught Tav staring a little too hard at him. Being stealthy was something Tav was horrible at considering she bursted into his coronation. This realization filled him with confidence as his charm and poise alter a subtle change in Tav's behavior. She was seeing something she liked in him.

Gortash firmly put his hands on Tav's shoulders, shoving her back onto the mattress. Tav let out a small gasp as he hovered over her small stature. His hungry eyes viewed every little piece of skin available to him.

Calculating eyes bore into her, as he leaned forward, his voice dripping with contempt. "Do it. Do as you please."

A shiver ran up her spine. She wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing, but her body completely froze under him. Her mouth parted with no words left to say.

What the hell was he doing? Why couldn't she move? Maybe it was how handsome she found his restless eyes. Or the way his body was strong and tall. Gortash always stared so passionately at her, even now.

With no response, her eyes glistened with anticipation. Gortash brought his lips close to Tav's mouth. Only the slightest space between them, Gortash's eyes downcasted on her while her heart thumped against his skin. The warmth of his breath caressed her lips. Tav closed her eyes and submitted to the tension between them.

"Tch—" Gortash scoffed teasingly.

The warmth Tav felt suddenly grew cold. She opened her eyes to see Gortash standing over the bed. There was no kiss. Tav propped her elbows up, why did he leave? A slight shame cast on Tav as she lay there dumbfounded. Was he just toying with her?

"Rest, I will be expecting you for breakfast." Gortahs's arms crossed as he stared down at Tav like a scolding parent, "Don't make me wait." With that, Gortash walked out of the room.

He purposely planted a seed into Tav's head of control as soon as she let her guard down. His deceit would have her tossing and turning all night.

To be Continued ~

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

Part 2 here!

[sorcerous-caress]

Hi I hope your having a good day by the time you read this! I was hoping I could request Minthara, Karlach, Gale, and Zevlor (If you write for him) reacting to a Tav that looks visibly under the weather but ignores it to continue to do things rather than resting?

Heh I’ve got a cold that’s kicking my ass rn but even tho it’s the week before thanksgiving break my college classes are piling me with stuff to do ya know?

I'm currently dealing with similar things, anon. Life demands us to function even at our worst sometimes. The migranes can be ruthless. Please make sure to rest and take care of yourself. You're more important than your assignments and classes.

Dealing with a stressed Tav who refuses to rest.

[Fluff, comfort, nb!reader]

[Minthara, Karlach, Gale, Zevlor]

Minthara

As cruel and cold as she tends to be, there is certainly some tenderness deep inside her heart that's saved solely for you.

If it was someone else, she wouldn't have cared. If anything she expects her followers to work themselves to the death if it benfited her, she has no tolerance for the weak.

And yet, every principle she has ever held goes straight out the window when it comes to you. The sight of your visibly tired face and exhausted body makes her furrow her eyebrows in worry, forms a tightness in her chest.

She respects you immensely, and she knows for a fact you're not weak. If anything you're stronger than anyone she has ever met before.

Minthara wants to show that she can be strong for you too, prove herself as the capable and reliable partner you entrusted your heart with. Take the burdens off your shoulders and carry it on her own. No price is too great when it comes to ensuring your well being, whether it be a life or gold.

But even her own abilities only extend so far, she knows there are things that you simply can't let her handle. She feels as if she failed you when the only thing she can do is stand there uselessly whilst you struggle through your hardships.

Kind words of encouragement don't come easily for her. There's no softness left on her tongue, and tenderness is a foreign language long forgotten. Yet she tries, she still tries through failed awkward attempts and borderline counterproductive advice. She still tries to offer some sort of relief for you, to understand you better, to just be with you.

Karlach

It pains her in a way, seeing you brush off your own health so easily and discard your wellbeing. You don't realise how much she envies you, envies having the health to spare to neglect.

The engine burns against her chest, sending her on a coughing fit more times than she could count, her time is nearing its end.

If she were you, she'd treasure it. Her life, her body, and her own pulsing heart.

Karlach still buries her feelings and comforts you, putting your needs above hers. Attempting to get you to smile again, tricking you into having at least a nap when you're especially exhausted.

You're a soldier, she reminds you, you're brave, strong, and capable. And she will always have your back no matter what, so don't go fighting the world on your own when it's better to take a step back and recover first.

Gale

She'd drown you with kisses, brighten your day up with hugs, and offer the most loving and tender touches. Each word coming from her mouth is filled with sincerity, yet it barely scrapes the surface of how deep her love is for you.

He's been there more than once. Hell, he still neglects his own health for his studies, even to this day. He can relate to you a lot.

It's the feeling of being left behind, everyone else seems to have their ducks in a row while you're struggling just to stay afloat ontop of the water. How tempting it is just to give in and sink, the threat of the abyss below whispering into your ears.

Yet you stay swimming, the both of you need to. Have to.

No matter how muddy and ruthless the current gets, no matter how aggressive the waves become. He'll hold your hand amidst the storm and anchor you to him.

Each one resurfacing the other whenever they start to drown, pulling each other up.

It's not the most healthy, he is self-aware enough to admit it. But he can't condem you for what he himself is guilty of, he can't tell you to take a rest when the orb bleeds his sins of greed through his chest.

Zevlor

He brings you food, peeled oranges and cut apples, sweet tea and freshly baked cookies. Shares his lunch and dinner with you, shares his own warmth too under the blanket.

He has experienced many things throughout his long life, he has lead an army in hell and did whatever he had to do for the sake of his people.

He has sacrificed many years, decades even of his own life for them. He would've given it all for them if he could, to ensure their freedom, to ensure the kids got to grow up safe and sound.

In the same way, he is ready to sacrifice his well-being to preserve yours. Ready to bear your responsibilities so you can go rest and sleep soundly.

So please, don't refuse an old person like him when he invites you over for some tea and to take a breath. He's absolutely certain that you can relay on him for whatever tasks you have, even stay at his own home if you require assistance.

A big part of why he managed to survive all those years of war, is because he knew when to ask for help, when to cast aside his pride and let even strangers lend a hand for the sake of his people.

He doesn't order you outright. He's not your general, and he doesn't have authority over you. Yet his voice is firm when he insists on you accepting help, allowing yourself this small mercy.

[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Tav Sick Day

Genres: Fluff; Astarion angst Pairing: Astarion x Any!Reader

Everyone was waiting outside for Tav to come out of their tent. 

“What is taking them so long?” Shadowheart said. “We need to continue onward.”

Astarion sighed dramatically. “I suppose I will go check on them.”

Gale raise an eyebrow and let out a sarcastic laugh. “Haha, like we trust you to check on them?”

“Oh, get over yourself,” Astarion says, rolling his eyes. “It’s just a quick check in.”

They all seemed unsure, but Shadowheart sighed reluctantly. “Fine. But no funny business.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, raising his hands as he walked backward into Tav’s tent. 

He looked over and saw them sprawled out in their bed, panting heavily. 

“Hmmm?” Astarion hums curiously as he walked over. “Whatever is the matter with you?”

Tav looks up at him with a slightly glare as they breathe in heavily through their nose. “I’m sick..” they grumble. 

“I can see that. I was being rhetorical.” He put a hand to their head. “Yes, you are burning up, it seems. Well, I will have to tell the others.”

“Can you tell them to not bother me? I just kind of wanna be alone right now.. my head hurts..”

“Of course, darling.”

He stepped out to the others, who turned their attention to him. 

“How’s Tav doing?” Karlach asked, concerned. 

“Oh, they are fine, quit babying them. They simply have a cold.”

They all gasped and Shadowheart took a step forward. “Allow me to aid to them! I have healing magic.”

Astarion shook his head. “They said they would only like me to take care of them,” he lied. 

“What?” Gale scoffs. “As if. Quit lying!”

“I am not lying. Ask them yourself! Though, they are in a rather sour mood due to being sick, so, you could risk them throwing a spell your way.”

Gale clenched his jaw before sighing reluctantly and backing out of the argument, crossing his arms. 

Astarion smirks before nodding. “Good. Now, I am going to go check on our ill friend.” And with that, he turned back around and reentered the tent. 

“Hello, again, dear.”

“Hngh..? Astarion..? I thought I said I wanted to be alone..”

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I’m just here to make sure you will be ok and not drop dead.”

“No offense, but how would you be able to help? You don’t know any healing spells.”

“Yes, but I still know how to take care of someone who is ill.” He gently takes Tav’s hand into his own, a rare sign of affection. “I had to take care of myself and my own ailments for hundreds of years.. I’m sure I’d be able to help you..”

Tav still seemed hesitant before giving in. “I’m too tired to argue.”

“Splendid.. now.. how to help.. Would you like some blood, perhaps?”

“Astarion. Remember. I am not a vampire.”

“Oh. Yes, of course..” he murmured, hiding his mild embarrassment. “Hmm.. well.. that’s usually what helped me feel better..”

Tav laughed which ended with them going into a coughing fit. “Maybe Blackheart should aid me. She knows healing magic-“

“No!” he exclaimed, a hint of his possessiveness taking over. “I mean.. I have this under control..” he said a bit more calmly. 

He put his hand to their forehead, thinking for a moment. “Hm.. perhaps something cold..”

He sat up and went out the back exit of the tent, speed walking, attempting to not seem panicked or desperate. He tore off a bit of his cloak without second thought, though once he did, he was very upset. He rather liked that cloak..

That is not what matters right now.. he thought to himself as he dipped the cloth into the cold water. He squeezed out some of the water before folding it and walking back to the tent, relieved to see none of the other pesky party members had tried to sneak in. 

“Here we are, darling,” he said, placing the cloth over Tav’s forehead. 

“Oh..” they mumbled before closing their eyes, relaxed. “That actually feels really nice..”

Their breath was still very ragged, most likely clogged with phlegm. 

He leaned forward and gently began to massage their nasal passages. 

“Hngh..? What are you doing?” Tav croaked out, still delirious from their fever. 

“This is a technique I had discovered when I was young. Before I became a vampire..”

“Hmm..” 

The massaging was rather relaxing, and felt nice, so they let him continue. 

They felt the phlegm drain down, clearing out their nose and throat. 

“Wow.. thanks, Astarion. You’re pretty wise..” they joked softly. 

“Yes, well.. when you have to fend for yourself for hundreds of years, you learn a thing or two about staying healthy..”

Tav smiles drowsily, knowing he was trying hard to stay nonchalant. “Mhm..” They let out a soft yawn and turned on their side. “Now that I can breathe properly, I can probably get some proper rest now..”

“Hmm.. yes, well, I will stay in here. In case you need anything..”

Tav nods and their eyes droop close and it wasn’t long until they were snoring. 

Astarion chuckled, admiring them. But he caught himself admiring and quietly chastised himself. 

Don’t you dare catch actual feelings, Astarion! he thought. 

He sighs and rests his head into his arms, grumbling a little under his breath. 

His forbidden thoughts of pining were interrupted by a groan. 

He looked up and saw Tav twisting uncomfortably in their bedrolls as they started to wake up.

“Darling?” he says. “Are you all right?”

“My stomach started hurting for some reason..”

“Ah. Probably the phlegm reaching your stomach..”

“Do you have any wise tips to help with this?”

“Well, I find that chewing on mint leaves often helps for me.”

“Do you have mint leaves?”

“No.. and I don’t think there are any around here..”

Tav let out a long, pained groan. 

Astarion started to feel a little bad. He couldn’t help Tav. Would they hate him? He is here to help them! He can’t even do that right! Will they never want him taking care of them again? How can he help them?

“Can you just..” Tav said softly, their voice strained. “maybe hold me?”

“…Huh?”

“Hold me? It’s something I find helps when I have bad stomach ulcers.. and, I dunno.. maybe it’ll be the same for this?”

The idea of holding Tav seemed to terrify Astarion. That level of closeness for something so.. wholesome? It had to be some sort of ruse. 

But.. no. He saw their pained face. 

He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around their waist. 

Being close for something nonsexual felt so strangely foreign. But it was.. nice. 

He never had anyone there to hold him like this when he was hurting, suffering. So, being able to be there for Tav.. well, originally, the idea would’ve disgusted him. Why should they have comfort when he never received any? But.. now….

He rubbed his hand along Tav’s stomach and sighed contently. 

He rather liked being able to give them what he never had. No jealousy, no bitterness, no secret agenda behind it. 

Just genuine care. 

Hm..

Care. 

That was so unfamiliar to him. But that was definitely what he was feeling. Care.

He felt Tav melt into his embrace and grumble softly, still in slight pain, but feeling a bit better. 

He was.. happy. 

Happy he got to be the one to aid Tav, happy that he was able to help (wow, he was happy to make someone else happy. What was happening to him?)

But most of all. 

He liked holding Tav like this. 

Though, of course, he will never say this outloud. Ever. 

…

By the time the next day arrived, Astarion had not gotten a wink of sleep. He was nocturnal and starving from not getting to drink any blood the day before, too busy taking care of Tav. 

Speaking of Tav, they seemed to be feeling much better, standing and stretching. 

“I told the others that mint leaves should be able to help and they went out searching and brought me some!” they said, popping a leaf into their mouth. 

“Ah.. well, I’m happy about that..”

“We should be able to keep traveling, as long as I don’t overexert myself. So if we get into battle, I’ll need to hide.”

“Yes, well, if that should come, I will help you with that.”

“Thanks, Astarion. Cmon. The others are outside waiting for us.”

Before they had a chance to step out, he quickly wrapped his arms around them from behind. 

“Huh! A..Astarion..?”

“Apologies.. just.. checking to see if you are all better..” he lied. In truth, he wanted one finale taste of alone time with them… like this.. Tav to himself.. He has never experienced wholesome affection before. He just wanted one last bit of it. 

He eventually let them go. 

“Yes, it seems you are doing better. You heal fast!”

They smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks Astarion. Now cmon.”

They turned from him and left the tent. 

He watched them leave, dejected and longingly before he pulled himself together. 

Quit being so soft, Astarion. This is not you. You are not weak..

He stepped out and saw Tav with the others, everyone surrounding them and checking on them worryingly. 

You are not… weak… he thought again, burying his aching, jealous heart. 

Divider by @cold--carnage

[voidcat]

– the moon will sing

characters: astarion, human bard mc (gn pronouns used)

notes & genre: slight angst, implied future mcd & hinted immortal/mortal relationship. the mc is originally my dnd character but there is no specific description of name, appearance or past (save for the family crest, implied nobility) so you can pretend this is x tav or x reader. lowkey inspired by a the crane wives song.

it takes a moment to look back, like a step taken a tad too late; not enough to create a great distance but one enough to make one stumble on the ground.

in the small yet grand distance, astarion watches as cheers and joy fill the air once more, mimicking those nights before, in taverns, under the stars, all spent celebrating, rejoicing with glory and gratitude; all heroic feats and gestures he does not care to– nor wish to understand.

another adventure comes to an end, one step closer to the end, the destination, the next step of the rest of their lives until they find themselves at a crossroads.

one part of astarion cannot wait for that day to come, the one that wishes to escape, to avoid the burning rays of sunlight that only intensify each passing minute, each day he finds himself stuck deeper than he already has, struggling more and more to break those ties which are yet to be formed and binding completely.

better to rip the sticky, bloody bandages off than to take it easy– just suck up the pain that comes with a loss of recent constants in his life, and grow into his newly lonely routine of not depending on anyone.

all good logic, all bright ideas, astarion finds himself giving the little-him in his mind a pat on the back; only for the idea to come to halt, the unspoken words stuck in his throat as you turn in your spot, meters, meters away from him, spot his distant figure with those eyes and send a warm smile his way.

maybe this is another plan that has already failed before he could realize, astarion begins to wonder, oh he is so, so fucked– especially when all it takes now is a smile, a genuine one that reaches your eyes and shines warm like the sun, for him to be rendered speechless and immobile.

your smile falters for a second when you don't receive the usual astarion treatment, be it a wink, a charming smile or an all-knowing smirk decorating his smug face with a raised eyebrow that seems to say "cannot keep your eyes off me, can you now darling?"

one step taken a tad too late but astarion is never one to stumble over his feet, so with a roll of eyes and smirk returning to his lips, he tilts his head to the side in a questioning manner– to which, you reply by raising the bottle you've been holding, as if to say "hey, this time the wine is not that bad actually."

seeing him nod, and with too many people surrounding and asking for your attention, you find yourself having to divert your eyes away from him, as the people seem to chant for something from you, most likely another round of recounting your latest heroic victory, astarion thinks.

soon the sound of strings vibrating fills the air with faint first few notes of music.

of course, a celebration is not complete until there is music, no matter what time of the day it is or how tired everyone is. drunkards, raspy voices and dry throats all join together, offering back vocals to the lucky bard of the night– or the day; with how busy the hours have been passing, astarion realizes he is at a loss of time.

another glance stolen at you, and the light surrounding you like a halo certainly does not help his case.

golden, like the branches of your family crest, it is no wonder the moon shines bright above everyone, reflecting off the light you provide; brightening the world for all to see, to walk, breathe, make it all easier to live.

he spots shadowheart by some trees, enjoying her drink alone, gale and wyll speaking with people, probably giving them some answers they so desperately needed. his eyes roam the grounds and find each member of their little group, all too endorsed in whatever it is they are doing; yet one thing in common– a sense of relief, rejoice, change; the traces of especially the latter is out in the open for careful eyes, or just eyes who have seen and known them long enough.

he wonders for a moment if the same can be said for him, but he knows better, that it has already happened.

the sound of music gets louder and soon suppresses the irregular chatter spread around.

the tune sounding too familiar, astarion makes the mistake of looking at the source and being blinded as a result.

because, of course it would be you with your adorable little lute, clapped on the back by everyone 'just one song, then, o'mighty bard, please!' and never one to miss such moments, you would go up in your imaginary stage and pick the one song you were sure to draw his attention, as if you don't do that enough with your presence already.

your eyes already locked on him, you do your little trick where you pretend your attention is divided equally, as if your eyes are roaming the crowd, committing every face you see to your memory when your sole focus is on him, as he is drawn to you.

astarion knows, it is utterly foolish and even a little dangerous of him to think like this, but he fears what is to come by the end of your noble and enthralling series of journeys, when your effect on him has been this grand already.

not a fun thought to entertain, certainly not at a joyous time such as this one, were it not for your current occupation, he is positive you'd have walked all the way back to him to give him a good smack on the arm, or maybe a fisk on his forehead, or a knock on his skull along with a scolding to inform he got quite the thick skull if he is sulking like this at a time like that.

is it the fear of what has become of him, or what is to come when too much time passes, he is uncertain. but it must be another way of gods' mocking him, and cursing you perhaps– of all those faces and races, why did it have to be a human, that selfish part of him hisses. all those elves in the bloodline and you just had to be fully human, didn't you? giving him a taste of heaven, only for it to be cut short.

it was supposed to be moths with short lifespans, the cycle of the moon; not the sun, with all its grace and sanctity.

[littlelovelyra]

The Danse Macabre (pt3 The Change)

Chapter 3 of The Change is here!

if you prefer AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56298823/chapters/143106514#workskin

Notes: I've edited this as much as I can, I'll revisit it again to check for any more errors in writing - I apologise if there are any grammar errors etc.

Summary:

You are invited to celebrate the inauguration of Lord Ever Gortash, he makes a special request for Tav to accompany him for the first half of the celebration. Astarion is furious about this but can do nothing as you need to keep up the appearance of being Gortash’s ally. While at the celebration another attack of Cazador’s spawns takes place marking this the final straw for you and Astarion.

Warnings: Violence, fingering, creepy gortash, possessive Astarion, Jealous Astarion, fluff, romance, cute stuff.

MINORS DNI

Astarion:

“You are cordially invited to celebrate the inauguration of Lord Enver Gortash.

A masquerade ball will be hosted this evening, wear your best attire.

Location: Wyrm’s Rock Fortress

Attire: Masks mandatory

This invitation should be presented upon arrival, to ensure access is allowed.”

You read the letter aloud and sigh exasperated, flinging your hands down to your sides another letter falls out from the envelope. Quickly you snatch it up and begin reading it out loud.

“My dearest Ally, Tav,

It would delight me to have you at my side for this special occasion, I have left you a gown with Figaro, he tells me you are well acquainted.

My one request is to have you until the end of the first dance, you may then break away to mingle should you wish to do so.

Yours loyally

E”

You scoff and place the letter down on the table. “That’s hardly enough notice at all. I knew he was delusional, but really? As if we would even entertain letting you out of our sights for even a moment." You turn to Tav and the rest of the group as they all look around uncomfortably. "What? What am I missing?" You arch an eyebrow at your lover.

"Well, Astarion, we are still his 'Allies'. We can't afford to not give him what he wants, lest we raise any suspicions," her voice is soft as she nervously plays with her hands. "I know it is asking a lot to let me do this, however, it's just for show and it's one dance. Then I will come straight back to you, I promise." She walks forward, takes your hands and you feel a slight tremble in hers.

"Yes, well, it may just be for a little while, but need I remind you that we have been having some rather rude interruptions of our own from my siblings? What if they are there? Even if they're not, what if Gortash wants you for more than just a dance?" Your voice raises in pitch slightly near the end of your question, and you feel the anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach. Are you… jealous? Nonsense. You have nothing to be jealous of… what can Gortash give her that you can't?

Well, I suppose he could give her riches, power beyond measure, and… protection… he would be able to protect her. Something I have not been capable of thus far. You stop yourself and push those thoughts deep down. You'll deal with them later.

“Fine. If you want to parade around all evening with Enver then who am I to stop you?” The words come out sharp and you watch her wince at their sting. You exit the room to your sleeping quarters and fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling you feel your chest tighten as you think about her in someone else’s arms.

___________

Tav:

As you stand there, you try to compose yourself. You will deal with him later. He is being very childish right now, and perhaps he needs a moment to collect his thoughts. For him to even imply that you would spend all evening with Gortash is ridiculous.

“Gale? Would you mind accompanying me to Facemaker’s Boutique?” You turn to the wizard who seems a little too happy that you had chosen him for this task. Perhaps Shadowheart would have been the better choice but Gale… you were close with Gale, he was a dear friend to you who had always taken the time to listen when you needed to be heard. You needed some time with a trusted friend and Gale was the most trusted.

"It would be my pleasure," he says, bowing slightly at the waist. As the two of you exit the Elfsong Tavern, you make your way towards Figaro’s shop. “He’ll be okay. I think he’s jealous of Gortash's interest in you,” he calmly says, trying to ease the tension.

“He has nothing to be jealous over. It is ridiculous to imply that I would stay a moment longer than needed at Gortash’s side.” You bite out. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just want to get this over with.”

Gale offers you a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze. “It’s alright Tav, you don’t need to explain yourself. Let’s get through this evening and go from there, however, I believe we should have an escape plan in case any unexpected situations occur.” His face darkens with concern. “There is a sigil that can lead us back to camp, but reaching it may be challenging. I came across an amulet that allows the wearer to cast a Dimension Door spell, I’d like you to wear it that evening. I will feel more at ease knowing that you have options.”

“Thank you, Gale, you are a good friend… I am glad I pulled you out of that rock.” You smile at him and place a hand on his arm, he nods and returns a smile as the two of you arrive outside Facemaker’s Boutique.

After about half an hour of small talk with Figaro, you and Gale have made your way back to the Elfsong Tavern with your mask and dress. Gale had chosen dress clothes and a mask for himself.

You decided to buy Astarion an outfit that would complement your gown, along with a matching mask. You hoped that this would help him move past his reservations.

You spend the rest of the day washing your hair, helping Shadowheart choose between two dresses, and running through plans of escape if anything were to go wrong.

“Grab whoever is closest at the time, use dimension door to get to the sigil and then use said sigil to return here safely… did I get that right?” You sarcastically look at Gale, this is the third time he has made you repeat this plan. He raises his hands and says “Alright, I am satisfied.”

Rolling your eyes, you excuse yourself and make your way toward yours and Astarion's room. You open the door slowly and cautiously only to find the room empty. On your pillow is a piece of parchment with a note in his handwriting.

“Gone for a bite to eat - I will see you at the celebration. - A”

Sighing you place his outfit on the pillow and scribble a note back on the other side.

You retrieve the bag that holds your dress and open it. It is probably the most beautiful item of clothing you own. The dress is form-fitting, hugging the curves of your body with a slit up the left side, long sleeves, and a shallow v-neckline. It's nothing too scandalous nor too conservative. The colour is a deep midnight blue, but as the fabric moves, it shimmers silver as if Figaro stitched the stars themselves into the material. Your hair is loosely braided, and you have opted for a pair of silver sandals with ribbons that crisscross their way up your calf, stopping just below your knee. The amulet Gale has given you is a silver chain with a single ring-shaped pendant in the middle. Finally, your mask takes the shape of an owl bear’s face, the colour matches your dress, a midnight blue and shimmering in the light.

As you leave the room, you encounter your companions in the shared quarters. All eyes are on you, and you swear you see Gale’s face flush as he says, “You look wonderful.” You give him a small nod of appreciation and announce that you will be heading to Gortash for the first half of the evening and that you will meet them there.

You take the sigil to Wyrm’s Rock, present your invitation, and proceed to Gortash’s private quarters. Softly you knock on the door and hear him call out on the other side “Who is it?”

“It’s Tav, I figured you wanted to enter the celebration together. I can wait out here if you need more time.” You keep your voice calm even when your stomach feels like it might cave in.

“Oh! What a brilliant idea. The people need to see us united. Let’s talk business shall we?” He crosses the room and opens the door. He has opted for his usual all-black colour palette, however, his mask is a deep red in the shape of a skull. He places his hand on the small of your back and guides you inside. This is going to be a long evening, you think to yourself.

__________

Astarion:

The hunt wasn't very successful, but you managed to corner a small boar. It would do for the evening. Back at the Elfsong Tavern, you return to your room, on the way you hear the rest of your companions laughing as they get ready for this evening’s festivities. You stalk your way to the bedroom and find it empty. Walking to your bed you see the note has been scribbled on and placed atop an outfit and a mask. Picking up the piece of parchment you see her handwriting and it reads:

“Came to give you this to wear tonight - I look forward to seeing you I love you.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you place the note down to pick up the outfit she had bought you and begin to dress. No one has ever bought you something this extraordinary before, hells, no one has ever bought anything new for you. The top is a dark blue, detailed with constellations on the front, the sleeves are long and the fabric is a soft silk. The trousers are cool-toned grey with one black stripe running down along the outside of the legs. The mask is an owl bear’s face, the colour a midnight blue but when you shift it in the light, it shimmers like the constellations on your shirt. You find a pair of black leather boots that you recently purchased and slip them on. For good measure, you tuck one dagger in the side of each boot and make your way to the group.

“Well, don’t we all look ravishing?” You say leaning in the doorway. “I believe it’s time to go now, let’s not keep Tav waiting too long, hmm?” You take the sigil to Wyrm’s Rock, your companions arriving seconds later and you make your way in.

As you enter the hall, you scan the room, searching for her. You spot her standing next to Gortash, near his throne. Gods, she's beautiful, you think to yourself. Your eyes take her in, the form-fitting dress hugs her body in all the right places. Your eyes roam down her figure and gods above the slit exposing her left leg sends a rush of blood to your core. Her dress a deep midnight blue is a stark contrast to her fair skin but it complements her, as the fabric moves you see shimmers rippling across the fabric they look like… constellations. You glance down at your shirt and realise what she has done. It's her way of showing you that she is yours—the matching colours, the embellishments, and the matched masks.

The moment is soon over as you watch Gortash place his hand on her lower back as he whispers something in her ear. You watch as she throws her head back in a laugh returning a smile to him.

"I need a drink," you announce to your companions. Stalking over to the refreshment table, you grab two glasses of wine, quickly downing the first in one gulp. You have nothing to worry about, you know that she is just playing the game with him but yet it makes your blood boil. Let’s just get this over with, you think to yourself.

Suddenly, the room grows quiet as the first song begins to play, marking the start of the festivities. You watch as Gortash leads her to the floor, his arms encircling her waist, pulling her into a tight grip as he sways to the music with his body pressed against hers. You feel as though you might be sick at the sight of it.

After what feels like a lifetime the other guests join in creating a sea of swaying bodies. You grab Shadowheart by the hand and pull her towards the dance floor.

“Astarion what are you doing?” Her face was visibly shocked. “I am taking back what is mine.” You growl as you twirl and sway your way through the crowd. Alliance be damned you will not allow him to hold her any moment longer.

You are now dancing alongside them catching part of their conversation. Gortash leans to her ear and speaks boldly, “We could be good together, you know? Your talent for persuasion, my ability to rule with an iron fist. Not to mention you are absolutely mouth-watering.”

“I’m flattered Gortash, however, mixing business with pleasure is never a good idea.” She quips back earning herself a wicked smile from him. “You may change your mind, think on it.” He says with a sly smirk.

He pulls back, taking her hand and twirling her in a spin. You expertly intercept, spinning Shadowheart in Tav's place, a quick apology escaping your lips. She looks back at you with daggers in her eyes, while Gortash flashes a wicked smile, his eyes gleaming at the silent challenge you have just issued.

Tav looks up at you, and before she can say anything, your mouth crashes down on hers. Parting her lips, you slip in your tongue; the kiss is sloppy and hot with passion. She pulls away, breathless. "Astarion, what has gotten into you? We cannot afford to make another enemy right now.” Her eyes scan your face, gripping her hand you sweep her away out to the balcony.

“Astarion what is wrong?” Her voice is softer, laced with concern.

���His hands were all over you. The way he looked at you. The way you laughed with him… He can offer you riches, power… protection” You whisper, “I cannot compete with that. Who am I compared to that? A helpless spawn who has brought you nothing but trouble.”

"I'm not asking you to compete, Astarion. There is no competition, and even if there were, you would win by a landslide." Her voice is soft as you place your hands on the railing and lean over the balcony to look down.

She walks up to you and wraps her arms around you from behind, resting her head between your shoulder blades. She softly speaks, “Do you want to know the moment I knew that I had fallen for you?” She says as she pulls back her arms laced around your neck, you give her a soft nod.

"At the blighted village, when we heard that ogre and bugbear rutting in the barn, everyone else turned up their noses at my suggestion to open the door. But you looked at me with a devilish grin and asked if you could interrupt them. As soon as you kicked that door open, I knew a life with you would be filled with mischief, fun, and excitement. I realised I could be myself around you, and you would just jump right in with me, no questions asked. I was so right about you. Life with you so far has been entertaining in the best possible way. Even with me becoming a spawn, we get to do this forever. I used to dream of finding ways to be with you eternally, but I didn’t have to go searching—it found me. I refuse to let this change be something negative. No, it is a gift."

You stand there still looking out over the cliffs of Wyrm’s Crossing letting her words sink in as she continues. "You're too hard on yourself, you know? You are amazing, you just haven't been allowed to shine.”

You shift around to face her, dropping your gaze to meet her eyes. "And do I… shine?" your voice is soft, and you hate how pathetic it sounds.

"You are the brightest star in my skies," she whispers, taking your hands in hers.

Closing her eyes, she opens her mind, utilising the tadpole. As you connect to her thoughts, she shares everything that has happened between the two of you. You witness it all through her eyes, seeing yourself as she sees you. Your throat tightens at the images that play between your interlocked minds, and for the first time, you believe that you are worth something. You have spent too long dead in the box Cazador placed you in, it’s time to start living again.

You place a soft kiss on her cheek and pull her towards the sound of the music holding her close to you as you sway in time with the ballad. Your hands slide down her waist and rest themselves on her backside, she twists her face to yours her eyes flashing with mischief.

“This dress is dangerous, little love. I can’t wait to see it on the floor of our room.” You bend down whispering in her ear as you rake your lips along her jaw.

___________

Tav:

His lips trace hot kisses down your neck and you don’t care about where you are anymore, all you care about is his touch.

“TAV. TAV! It is time to go NOW” Gale forces himself into your mind. Your head snaps up and Astarion tenses, his body already on high alert. You glance around the room taking in your surroundings and in all directions you see a few glowing red eyes under the masks of attendees all making their way through the crowd to you.

“Astarion- .”

“I see them. Don’t worry.” He cuts you off holding you close to him. His hand glides down his side and reaches into his boot. One of the spawns reaches his side, Astarion slams his dagger upwards into its body and it disappears in a cloud of red ash. The crowd separates in a panic as the other spawns run towards you. Another appears to your side, Astarion pulls you away propelling his dagger into their neck and again they vanish.

Gortash sees the commotion, orders the steel watch to intervene and the machines start making their way to aid you. You lock eyes with him and he gives you a small nod.

You grip Astarion’s shirt and he glances down at you “Quod dice face!” you yell and the two of you are teleported to the sigil where your party awaits.

“We can’t keep running like this! It needs to end Tav! It has to end.” You scan his face and you can see he is tired, tired of running… tired of these games.

“I know… I know. We go back to the Elfsong now, we take the evening to plan, gather the supplies and rest. In the morning we will leave.” You rarely use this tone however they have appointed you their leader and lead you shall. Running and avoiding was only making matters worse, the time has come to take action.

You find yourselves back in the main area of the shared quarters, everyone has their roles assigned to them. Shadowheart is readying her healing potions and antidotes, Gale is preparing spells that he thinks will be the most effective, Karlach has asked Lae’Zel to help sharpen her blades and you and Astarion are running over the layout of the palace. There is only one entrance so the element of surprise may be an issue but you will work with what is given.

After a few hours of everyone preparing you have decided to call it a night, all of you need rest for tomorrow. Your companions head to their beds for the night as you and Astarion make your way to your shared room. You start to remove your dress and you feel his hand fall on yours.

“Little love, I still want to take that dress off of you.” He whispers into your ear and a chill runs down your spine. Slowly his hands glide up your arms as he pulls one arm out of the dress at a time. He trails kisses down along your neck and across your collarbone as he pulls the remainder of your dress down until it lands in a pool on the floor.

“You are so beautiful.” He kisses your cheek. “So thoughtful.” Another kiss to your lips. “So strong.” His lips graze your neck. You release a soft moan and tilt your head to the side allowing him better access. “… and so, very generous.” He breathes and sinks his teeth into you, he pulls you into him with one hand placed on your stomach holding you in place. His other trails down your body and his fingers slip between the folds of your heated core. He groans against your neck in appreciation of your readiness for him. He works his finger in slow lazy circles around your swollen bud, the sensation teases you most delightfully.

After the third pull from your neck, he releases his bite and kisses the little puncture wounds. He is still rubbing tantalising circles in you as he guides you back to the bed. Just before he settles the both of you down he shifts below you and lands on the mattress placing you on top. His fingers never missing a beat, he places two fingers deep inside you while he rubs the pad of his thumb against your sensitive bud. He angles his head to the side offering you his neck and slowly you bite down hearing his breath catch. As you take your first pull of his blood into your mouth your body catches fire and you start riding his fingers. Stars appear in your vision, your breathing becomes shallow and you shatter into a wave of pleasure.

“Hmmm, good girl.” He says as he brings his fingers to his mouth cleaning them off slowly as you watch him. He folds his arms around you and kisses you deeply, “Let’s rest now little love, we have a big day tomorrow.”

You nod and inhale his scent… sleep finds you shortly after.

_________________

Astarion:

Petrichor and cinnamon, you breathe her in as the morning light trickles in through a crack in the curtains. She lies sleeping on your chest and you watch her head rise and fall with every breath you take. You need to succeed today, you have so much you want to experience with her, you want to build a life with her, have a home with her… hells you would start a family with her if it were possible. You’d find a way to make it possible. You want to give her everything and more.

You place a soft kiss on her forehead and she stirs awake. “Good morning, lover.” You say teasingly as a goofy smile spreads across her face.

“Good morning… lover.” She plants a small kiss on your neck and cuddles herself into you. A moment later she sighs, “I suppose we need to get up now.”

“Yes, but today is the start of a new beginning, my love.” You peel yourself out of bed and begin dressing in your leather armour. She follows you reluctantly putting on her armour that is quite similar to yours, black leather pants, a black leather top and boots that sit just below the knee. You chuckle to yourself, matching murder outfits…how cute.

As the two of you make your way to your party you hand her a glass bottle with some blood you had saved from your most recent hunt. You share it as a top-up, last night’s blood sharing was more than enough but you would rather be safe than sorry.

You find yourselves standing at the entrance to the palace and you hear a soft click. “Well, that’s suspiciously welcoming.” You open the door cautiously and find… no one. You all enter the building standing in the foyer taking in your surroundings.

“So this is it. I’m home. There’s the same fading carpet, the same tasteless art… nothing’s changed, but gods, everything feels different.” You look around the building feeling anxious.

“What’s it like being back?” She asks placing a hand on your back.

“It does feel strange, breaking into your own home. Especially if murder is on your mind. Then again this is hardly the strangest thing we’ve done together. Although it could be the most satisfying. Well, the second most satisfying…” You give her a playful smile as her cheeks flush.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks softly her eyes searching yours with concern.

“Oh, I’ve never been less sure of anything. But if I don’t face him now, I never will. We’ll spend the rest of our lives running, watching the shadows, never feeling safe. No, this has to happen. Here and now.” You pull her into a hug.

Today is the day you take back your life. Today Cazador will get what is coming for him. At the end of this, it will be him on his knees begging you to show mercy… and just as he taught you, there will be no mercy for the weak and pathetic.

You wanted me here? Well, here I am you bastard. Today I will hear you scream in pain, you will die at my hands.

_______

Part 4 here

[kylobith]

Little Town Tails

Chapter 6: Something Fishy

Summary: A curious visitor comes to Emerald Grove.

Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy

Word count: 4,831

Read it on Ao3 here

Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here

‘Ah, Halsin, there you are!’

‘Good morning, Jaheira,’ he greets the florist back with a bright grin. He wipes his muddy shoes on the rubber mat outside until they are presentable enough to go in. Behind him, Scratch sits at the door, unleashed, waiting for Halsin to be done with his visit before heading home.

Jaheira grins at the white dog and whistles, calling him inside. The dog eyes his owner hesitantly, but when the latter gives him an approving nod, Scratch trots up behind the counter to be petted by his host. She grabs the banana she was snacking on and takes off a piece she offers him.

Halsin approaches the counter and smiles at the sight, always happy to see that his dog is accepted somewhere. While petting Scratch behind the ears, Jaheira looks at his visitor and smirks.

‘Walked around the forest this morning again?’

‘Indeed. The weather was perfect, but last night’s rain made the ground a bit soft, as you could tell from my boots.’

‘It’s always like that. At least they say that this spring will bring more sunny days than usual,’ she adds, chuckling as the dog lies down at her feet. ‘Anyway, did you happen to see Minsc at all? I’ve been trying to call him for two days because he ordered a fresh bouquet, but now the flowers are waning.’

He leans on his elbows and fidgets with one of her business cards on the counter.

‘I did, he was patrolling the area by the other bridge. Had I known, I would have reminded him.’

‘Oh, don’t bother. It’s always like that with him. He tends to forget what he orders on a whim. He’s always ready to support my shop since I opened but he never picks up his orders. He did, once, but that was a flower for Boo’s birthday and he ordered flax seeds. That was it.’

They share a laugh. Minsc certainly is quite the character, anyone meeting him can tell. Quite eccentric compared to the rest of Heawick, but he adds to the charm of the community. Whenever somebody needs help, whether when the flower shop was merely an idea sprouting into Jaheira’s mind or with Beaky’s incident with the bear trap, he never hesitates to lend a hand, even though it tends to distract him from his daily tasks and chores. Yet, there is no better forest warden.

Jaheira flips through the pages of her logbook and finds Halsin’s recent order.

‘So, the spider plant, was it?’ she says absent-mindedly. ‘Found a gorgeous one for you. Fluffy, in good health. Perfect for your counter.’

‘Eager to see it!’

She chuckles and heads to the back to fetch the plant. She returns with precisely what she promised him, setting it down on her counter for him to examine. He touches the long leaves between his fingers, sensing the freshness of their greenish white stripes and admiring the way that they curve elegantly around the gold-painted bucket serving as its display pot.

‘What a beauty!’ he coos, his eyes sparkling in awe. ‘How much do I owe you?’

‘Eighteen gold coins.’

‘Perfect, thank you.’

He takes out and begins to rummage through his coin purse, which takes Jaheira by surprise and causes her to smile. Shaped like the head of a teddy bear, its fur is made from light brown fleece, and the eyes and nose are embroidered in black and pink thread. He bought it at a flea market a few years ago on one of the rare holidays he allowed himself to take. Many raised an eyebrow to see a grown man buy it for himself, but even though he is far from materialistic, it is one of the few objects that he has grown particularly fond of.

He places the eighteen gold coins in the palm of Jaheira’s hand and slips two more into her tip jar.

‘Thank you,’ she says with a brief bow of her head. ‘Don’t forget to repot it from time to time, the roots tend to grow fast. And water it once to twice a week. It’s usually alright if you skip a week, as long as you don’t do it for a month straight.’

The veterinarian laughs and watches the florist remove the plant from the yellow pot. He purses his lips and tilts his head.

‘How much for that pot? It suits the plant quite well.’

Jaheira stops and eyes the bucket.

‘Oh, this? Ah, just take it. On the house.’

‘Certainly not,’ Halsin protests, unzipping his coin purse again and counting the coins in it. ‘Name your price.’

‘I insist, take it. I bought it years ago but it doesn’t suit my home, I use it for visualisation most of the time… Or as a pencil pot.’

She nudges it towards him with a wink. With a sigh and a heavy blush, Halsin slips ten gold coins into the tip jar and winks back. Once the plant is back in the bucket, he calls out for Scratch, who seeks one last pet from Jaheira, then rushes to his owner’s feet. The veterinarian and the florist exchange cheerful goodbyes, and the former exits the shop with his dog in tow and the spider plant tucked in the crook of his elbow.

Halsin whistles a tune as he crosses Heawick with his free hand buried in his pocket. He nods politely at everybody he sees with a smile and continues his walk back to Emerald Grove. The town is still awaking from its slumber and some of the shops are only just opening. Sometimes it still surprises him that Jaheira decides to open hers this early, but as she once said to him, she prefers to tackle her daily routine in the early hours, then close one or two hours before most shops so she can enjoy the town herself and have a longer evening to relax or meet up with her friends at the old pub on Westway Street.

Come to think of it, it is not such a bad idea. Shop owners and employees seldom have the opportunity to shop for themselves, unless they work half shifts or rely on partners who have the time to buy everything they need. More often, their only occasion to do so is on Saturdays, but the busy aisles deter quite a few. Since Heawick has a wider variety of establishments of all the nearing towns — not counting the city, of course —, its streets bustle with visitors on that particular day.

As he turns onto his street, he switches hands to hold the plant and fumbles through his pocket to find his keys. When he pulls them out and looks up to make sure that he does not walk too far, he notices the figure of a man peering through the windows of the practice. Dressed in black from head to toe, matching with his silky and spiky raven hair, the man does not seem to have come with a pet and does not seem particularly eager to enter.

‘Good morning,’ Halsin greets him with an eyebrow raised. ‘May I help you? Do you have or need an appointment?’

The man is startled despite the veterinarian’s soft tone. He straightens up and looks over at Halsin, seemingly analysing him in detail. The stranger rubs his index and thumb together and scowls at Scratch, who does not dare approach him at all. His demeanour already betrays the fact that he comes from the richer quarters of the city and is not used to visiting the area at all. There is a haughty air to him in the way that he carries himself, as if the word ‘peasant’ is about to slip off his tongue at any moment to describe Halsin and his shockingly unleashed pet.

‘No,’ he replies in a honeyed tone still tinted with firmness. ‘But I will come back later.’

Without uttering another word, the man spins around on his heel and walks away, leaving Halsin utterly confused with his key in hand. What a strange character.

The veterinarian shrugs it off and enters the dark practice, ushering Scratch inside before closing the door again behind him. He walks over to Karlach’s counter and finds a suitable spot for the plant, making sure to stand on both sides of the desk to ensure that the view is not obstructed for neither his assistant or a patient’s owner. But in the end, he finds that it does not quite fit there with the cards and flyers and tip jar, so he carries it over to the small coffee table in the centre of the waiting room. At least, if the anxious pets munch on the leaves, they will not be sick from it.

After a brief shower and a change into scrubs, he lets Scratch rest upstairs and heads back to the practice to follow the daily opening routine. As he takes a minute to make himself a cup of fruity tea — a bold decision considering how often he drinks his signature mint and honey infusion —, his mobile phone pings. Karlach’s name appears on the screen.

‘Morning doc, sorry but I’ll be late today, Vixen just won’t start! I’ll be there ASAP, promise promise!’

Halsin grins and immediately types back as he flicks the light switches on and shuffles towards the front door without paying much attention to his surroundings.

‘It should be quiet for the first hour, hopefully you will have found a way by then. Good luck finding an alternative! Perhaps you can ask Gale? Halsin. PS: I hope that Vixen will be alright. Too bad that she is not the type of vixen that I would treat at the practice :-).’

His wrist flicks to unlock the door while he re-reads the message to correct any typos he might have made. Eager to let some fresh air in, he opens the door wide.

‘Morning, doctor!’

Halsin nearly drops his phone when he jolts in surprise, not having expected that somebody might have already arrived. After all, he does not have any appointment planned before an hour. Outside, wiping her feet on the mat, Tav smiles at him with twinkling eyes and a light flush from noticing that her sudden greeting startled him.

His heart instantly leaps inside his chest and his lips mirror her grin.

‘Oh, good morning Miss Ashguard! I apologise for my reaction, I did not expect such an early visit. Is everything alright?’

Tav quickly combs her fingers through her freshly-cut curtain fringe. It suits her incredibly well, he catches himself thinking. The way that it sweeps across her eyebrows, its colour only highlighting the deep blue of her irises… It nearly steals the breath from his lungs.

‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine!’

He steps aside and invites her inside. As she passes him by with a light step, he closes his eyes for a second, savouring the aroma of her flowery perfume. As he realises what he is doing, he clears his throat and follows her to the reception.

‘Do you need anything more for the case against Mr Bongle? Perhaps I have forgotten to include some information in the report?’

She leans her elbows on the counter and does not seem able to eff the smile across her rosy cheeks. The sight, however sweet and pleasant, does stir something within him and he curses himself internally for reacting the way that he does.

‘No, not at all. The lawyer said it was quite complete, actually. She’s revising the case and I just have to wait now,’ she chimes with a shrug. ‘I’ve come here because there’s a stray cat in my street that’s been going around for a while but lately he’s been looking quite thinner. The old lady who used to feed it everyday died a few weeks ago, and I’m not sure anyone feeds him anymore.’

Her gaze wanders over to the rows of kibble bags on the display shelves.

‘I’d like to buy some food for him just to be on the safe side, and since I don’t want to risk giving him the wrong stuff, I thought I’d buy it here.’

‘I see,’ he responds with a nod. His eyes brighten up at the thought that she cares for an animal that is not hers. Most people he has seen refuse to approach stray animals out of fear that they might catch diseases or fleas, and while some caution is always advised, too many of them end up suffering all sorts of infections that go untreated and only cause them agony. Knowing that there is someone like Tav out there caring enough to notice the change in the cat’s weight gives him hope.

Halsin steps back to peruse the selection he has got, heading straight to the cat section.

‘Do you know how old the cat is, approximately?’ he asks.

‘Mmh, he doesn’t look too old. Hears and sees properly from what I know, his fur isn’t too patchy. Some neighbour said the old lady fed him for about three years.’

‘Then let us take one for adult cats to be on the safe side. I suppose that you do not happen to know what type of kibble she gave him?’

‘Not at all. Sorry.’

He nods and asks her a few more questions about what behaviours she has noticed from the cat in general. Once he is able to define a clearer profile of the animal, he picks a bag and sets it down on the counter, pointing at the information written on it with his pen.

‘This is food that is perfect for a cat used to the outdoors, aged five years or more. If it turns out that he is slightly younger, that should not cause any trouble. Since you said that he is on the lighter side, I would recommend thirty grammes of kibble per day. See how much he manages to eat and add a little more if he starts gaining a bit of weight again. But do not give him more than forty-five grammes, since it is likely that he hunts mice or birds on the side.’

‘Noted!’

Reaching into a cabinet behind the reception, he takes out a measuring cup and places it next to the bag.

‘This should help you measure the food without a kitchen scale.’

‘Practical. Alright, let’s take it!’

Halsin smiles and circles the recommended doses on the bag so she does not forget the amount he has told her to give the stray cat. He signs in to his software and enters the right reference to log the sale.

‘Would you like me to add it to your patient account in case you need to buy some new kibble later on?’

‘Gladly,’ she responds cheerfully, leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand while watching him typing on the keyboard.

‘Done! That will be twenty-two gold coins, please. The measuring cup is free.’

Tav takes out her credit card and pays for the bag. Once her wallet is stored away into her small cross-body bag, she carries the dry food under her arm and holds the measuring cup between her fingers.

‘Thank you very much, doctor.’

‘You are most welcome. If anything, I should thank you for caring for the cat.’

She returns his smile and tucks her hair behind her pointy ear, whose tip is reddening. Before he starts staring at it, Halsin drums his fingers on the counter.

‘Oh, before I forget, I beg you not to leave out milk for the cat, because—’

‘— because cats are naturally lactose intolerant,’ she completes his sentence with a smug expression that can be likened to this of a pupil who is proud to show that they have learnt their lessons by heart.

‘Indeed,’ he chuckles. ‘Well, it seems that the cat is in most capable hands, I can sleep soundly at night.’

Tav laughs and readjusts her grip on the bag.

‘When I’m released into society, I’m the type to always bring up that fact and everyone gets annoyed,’ she laughs.

‘At least you are spreading the good word out there. I did not know that you were doing public service on top of jingle compositions.’

‘I’m full of surprises, doctor.’

They share a playful grin, which lingers perhaps a bit longer than it should. His heart stirs when he notices the twinkle in her eye and the subtle reddening of her cheekbones. When her fingers unconsciously loosen around the measuring cup and it slips out of her grasp, he skilfully catches it before it bounces on the floor and hands it back to her.

‘Oh, thanks,’ she mumbles bashfully, tucking it under her free arm. ‘If anything goes wrong with the cat, can I try and bring him here?’

‘Of course. I will be happy to help.’

‘You’re the best! Thanks again. Have a lovely day, doctor.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard. If you have any doubts, you can always contact me.’

‘I will!’

She waves at him and walks out of the practice. His eyes follow her as he sighs dreamily. However, his distraction is quickly cut short when he finds himself face to face with Astarion stepping inside with a cup of blood from the butcher.

‘Morning.’

‘Ah, good morning, my friend! Could I ask you a favour?’

The vampire grunts and slides his sunglasses up, letting them rest on top of his head. His ruby irises scowl at the veterinarian. Favours are never good in the younger man’s book. Or rarely.

‘I suppose I don’t have a choice,’ he mumbles. ‘What do you want?’

Halsin crosses his arms. No matter how much he tries to connect with him, even if just on a superficial level, Astarion always keeps his guard up and his distance. Honeyed words sometimes ornate his speech, but they never feel genuine, merely a façade that shelters him from others. He does not need to befriend him, of course, but he wishes that they could get along as well as he and Karlach do. But again, everything is easier with her. Sometimes, she might be too social and kind in a world that does not always value such qualities.

‘Karlach’s motorcycle broke down this morning, so she will be late. Do you mind working the reception until she arrives?’

Panic fills Astarion’s eyes right away. He furrows his brow and tries to act nonchalant, but his hesitation clearly stands out.

‘Wh— I don’t even know how any of this works!’

‘Do not worry, I am not saying that you must do all her tasks. If you could keep an eye on the appointments list and welcome the patients, that will help tremendously already. If the phone rings, answer it and write down the names and numbers, I will call them back between consultations. If it is urgent, do not hang up; call for me instead.’

‘Mh. That sounds doable. Alright.’

Astarion walks to the kitchen to drop his jacket and sunglasses, then comes back to the reception. He sits behind the desk and Halsin shows him everything he needs to know. Then, the veterinarian walks into his office and logs in to the general inbox and answers some emails himself.

Soon enough, the first appointment of the day arrives and Astarion directs them to the waiting room, where Halsin eventually comes to call them in. The consultation goes smoothly despite the very reticent puppy howling dramatically at the prospect of receiving one of her first shots. When he is done, Halsin guides the owner and the pet to the reception and registers the payment himself, before offering a treat to the brave puppy.

When they walk out, Halsin’s phone pings again.

‘Found a way, Dammon is bringing me. Be there in ten. Btw, doc, did you just make a joke?? And use a smiley??! Who are you and what did you do to Doc Halsin???’

Halsin laughs and updates Astarion on Karlach’s estimated time of arrival. Before the second consultation, a grumpy customer enters and asks for an anti-flea treatment suitable for a corgi. Once he has explained how to apply the solution efficiently, the veterinarian slithers back behind the desk and Astarion rolls a few inches away with his chair to give him enough space to deal with it all. 

‘Do you already have an account?’ Halsin asks the amber-eyed tiefling, whose tail is whipping around behind him in annoyance.

‘This little shit is not my dog, thank the Gods!’ the customer answers with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. ‘He’s my sister’s.’

‘I see. Does she have an account?’

‘Listen, can I just buy the treatment and go? I feel like I’m being devoured by fleas myself as we speak!’

‘Of course.’

Without protesting, he processes the sale and gives the little pipettes to the young man, who turns around with another scoff and leaves as fast as he can, scratching his head harder than he probably should.

Eyeing the man with concern, Halsin leans towards Astarion.

‘Do you think the dog is at risk with him?’

Much to his surprise, the vampire laughs while filing his nails and admiring the result.

‘Most likely. I know him. Well, know is perhaps a strong word, but I’ve spoken to him a few times. As you can clearly tell, he’s from the city. He’s one of the most arrogant pricks I’ve talked to, and it takes one to know one. He owns a bookshop specialised in academic publications of all sorts, and my husband happens to love the place.’

Could it be? Is he actually opening up by accepting to gossip with him? Not that Halsin particularly likes hearsay and talking negatively about people in their backs, but this exchange already brightens up his day.

The vampire carefully taps his glass nail file on the edge of the bin under the desk to rid it of dust, then tucks it away in its little sleeve.

‘But don’t worry, Rolan’s all bark and no bite, he won’t hurt that pup,’ he continues while shoving the file inside his shirt pocket. ‘You know, he’s clever and all, but Gale took him down a notch a couple of times. You know what? I think my husband’s at his hottest when he gives arrogant people a reality check.’

‘That is good to know, I suppose.’

‘Trust me, doc, I think your next appointment’s here.’

Indeed, the next patient comes in and Halsin welcomes him warmly. Halfway through the consultation, he hears the faint sounds of the sewing machine upstairs, and he concludes that Karlach must have arrived in the meantime and relieved Astarion of his temporary duty.

Halsin does not see her until he finishes the next examination and logs everything into the computer. His assistant pokes her head in when the patient leaves and speaks in a hushed voice.

‘Morning, doc! Uh… There’s an odd chum lurking around in the lobby, doesn’t have a pet or anything and he keeps ignoring me when I ask him if I can help him.’

The veterinarian turns around with an eyebrow raised and instantly rises from his high stool.

‘Go back to the reception, I will talk to him.’

Karlach nods and does as he instructed her, sitting back on her chair and anxiously browsing playlists for something that will calm her nerves while being acceptable to play from the practice’s speakers. Situations like this one is among those she has been dreading most about working at Emerald Grove. Owners losing their pets and leaving without their furry or feathery friends remains the worst of all, but weird and creepy people are close.

In previous jobs, she had her fair share of lurking visitors and customers who made her feel uncomfortable, but the employee handbooks always stated that she could not shoo them away outright. Either a manager or security had to do it. Sadly, it often left her feeling incapable of fending for herself and infantilised.

Soon enough and much to her relief, help is on the way and Halsin arrives, clicking a pen. Without making himself look menacing either, he puffs up his chest slightly. If anybody seeks trouble, he is hoping that his size and his brawn will dissuade whoever stands before him. But as he catches a glimpse of the man in question, his stomach tightens. Intent on not showing his discomfort to Karlach, he smiles and speaks as naturally as possible.

‘Good afternoon, sir. I believe we have met this morning, you were looking inside the practice before opening time?’

The man turns around with a smug smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes so dark that one cannot quite pinpoint their colour. Now that Halsin is closer, he can discern the man’s outfit more clearly. Tucked into high-waisted trousers, his tailored black silk shirt with the top five buttons left undone allows his black chest hair to peek out. His overcoat adorned with golden embroideries has its collar upturned, completely covering the back of his neck. If anything, it gives him a menacing look, as though he is the villain of a fairytale come to life, but dressed as a model.

‘You are the veterinarian who owns the practice, aren’t you?’ the man answers at last with a brief squint of his eyes.

‘Indeed, I am. May I be of any help?’

‘Oh, I am merely looking around.’

As he says so, the stranger buries his hands into his pockets and paces around, inspecting the walls and the layout of the reception and the waiting room. Karlach sneaks a glance towards her boss, wondering how he is going to handle this most peculiar situation. Without blinking, Halsin steps forward, tucking his pen into the breast pocket of his scrubs.

‘May I know what you are looking for, sir?’

‘This is a beautiful working space you’ve got here. Most impressive.’

Before he can press him on, the stranger faces Halsin with a smirk, rubbing his fingers together in the same unsettling way that he did earlier this morning.

‘Tell me, have you ever considered selling this practice?’

Halsin crosses his arms. This time, he has no intention to behave in the same friendly manner. While he knows that escalating such a ridiculous situation would be useless, he knows now that he does not want this man lurking around anymore.

‘No, sir. We have only just opened, thank you very much. Now, if you do not wish to make an appointment or buy anything for a pet, I kindly ask you to leave. I must soon tend to another patient.’

‘Oh, that’s a bloody shame. Well. I’ll see what I can do.’

The man reaches into his inside pocket and takes out a business card, which he hands the veterinarian by tucking it between two well-groomed fingers.

‘In case you change your mind, I would be very happy to discuss it with you. Here’s my contact information. The name’s Enver Gortash.’

Without as much as a goodbye, Gortash walks out of the practice, leaving a dumbfounded pair at the reception. Karlach stands up from her chair, her gaze shifting between the door and Halsin.

‘What in the hells just happened, doc? What the fuck was that about?’

Her boss examines the business card he is holding with a deep frown.

‘I have no clue, Karlach. I am quite at a loss, to be honest with you.’

‘What did he say his name was?’

Halsin hands her the business card. Before she even gives it a look, she sits back on her chair and drags her keyboard towards herself, instantly typing the name in her browser. His curiosity piqued by the results, he joins her behind the desk and leans in to read what comes up on the screen. Karlach clicks on a biographical article from a business-centred media website and begins to skim it.

‘Fuck me, Gortash’s quite the big guy,’ she mumbles pensively. ‘Owns a big company that owns lots of brands itself. Apparently, he’s known for gentrifying the shit out of many neighbourhoods in several cities already. He’s kicked out independent shops to establish a coffee chain and turning flats into offices.’

His eyes scan the same words and the more they read, the tighter the lump in his throat feels. Karlach hands him the mouse so he can peruse the article himself and open others. He checks several sources, and much to his dismay, the information they read in the first article seem to be confirmed through others.

‘I do not like how that sounds,’ he whispers.

‘Me neither, doc. But now that you told him off, he’ll lose interest, right?’

‘Mh. I doubt it. But now I wonder if he has shown interest in other places in Heawick. There is only one way to know.’

The assistant looks up quizzically as he sighs heavily and crosses his arms.

‘If anybody in Heawick knows anything, it is Melly.’

Taglist: @emmanuellececchi @reignydeys @cakenpiewhyohmy @beardedladyqueen

[enigmatist17]

100% unrelated, but @timethehobo 's Zevlor art is a balm to the soul, so check them out 👀

But have some Zevlor whump, I adore the hell out of the tieflings as a whole, and this man is my absolute favorite of them all 🥺🥰🥺

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

Tav wasn't an inherently violent person, they really weren't. Their philosophy was to give kindness and ask for nothing in return, especially in a world ruled by fear and suspicion these days.

So the snarl that comes from Tav when they come across a truly pitiful scene is enough to startle a group of people crowded over someone on the ground, the hero having caught sight of a familiar figure.

"You have five seconds to run, or you're not walking out of here." Tav doesn't have enough time to pull out a dagger before the group is scattering further down a nearby alley, Astarion following after with a smirk after Tav nods their head.

"Zevlor, are you alright!?"

There's a groan of pain as the hunched figure on the ground shuffles to push themselves off the ground, the tiefling looking worse for wear as Tav moves to kneel down by his side.

"I've been better." The bravado the hero had always known in his voice is gone, and Tav's heart clenches when Zevlor recoiled for a moment when they reach out to examine his injuries, the paladin giving a weak cough and glancing away. "Sorry, I'll be alright."

"You are not alright, let me help you." The tiefling shrugs as Halsin helps Tav get Zevlor up and onto his feet, acting the stronger anchor as the man discovers one of his ankles refuse to hold his weight. "Come on, camp isn't far."

"There's no need for me to impose, surely."

"Nonsense, you require aid, and we provide." Halsin's gentle but firm tone quiets any other protests Zevlor has, and the paladin carefully limps along cobbled streets with Tav hovering not far behind. "It is good to see you friend, however dire the circumstances."

"Story of my life." Zevlor's chuckle is dry, missing the look Tav and Halsin share when Astarion seems to just appear on his free side, looking quite pleased with himself and Zevlor's noticeably still full pack slung across his shoulder. The camp seemed to be gearing up to begin settling down for the evening, Shadowheart handed over the knife she'd been using to prep some vegetables to Lae'zel when she noticed his limping.

"You changed your hair." The cleric gives him a brief smile as they lead him to one of the spare tents dotted around the dock he couldn't name, getting to work once he'd been set down on a bedroll.

"Thank you." She was still curt as ever, but the tiefling just sighed in relief when the pain subsided dramatically a few minutes later. "I'll have someone bring you dinner once we finish, you're to not walk on that leg at least for the night."

"I couldn't possibly impose.." Shadowheart just raised an eyebrow before getting up to her feet and heading back, and Zevlor just sighed and laid back with a quiet groan. The barely visible stars were of some comfort as he listens to the nightlife beyond their little corner ramping up, such a strange thing after being in the Shadowlands for a spell. Well, he supposed he couldn't quite call it that anymore, but it had still taken the man days to travel through the remains of the twisted area.

Zevlor blinks, and suddenly the sky is dark and the stars shine bright, someone gently shaking his side.

"Was wondering when you'd decide to wake up." The familiar voice catches his attention, and to his dear surprise Rolan is standing a few feet away with a bowl in one hand, and a mug in the other. The man looks almost....smaller than Zevlor remembered, dark bruises littering his face that made his blood turn to ice. "Time to eat, you're lucky I managed to save you anything."

"I -"

"I said eat." Zevlor blinks when the other pretty much shoves the food into his hands, but keeps his tongue quiet as he gratefully devours everything. Rolan had wandered off while he was eating, but returned soon enough with a sturdy pillow and some folded blankets, setting them on the edge of his bedroll.

"Thank you." The sorcerer hesitates while Zevlor carefully stretches, eyes flickering around the camp before he clears his throat.

"I am...pleased you are safe." The former leader glances up with a small smile, and for a moment they just stare at each other. "I'm sorry, for what we said."

"What do you have to apologize for? I let everyone down, and it's my burden to bear the lives I helped extinguish." Rolan frowned as Zevlor held his gaze, and slowly knelt down so they were eye to eye. "I'm the one to apologize."

"This Absolute is an insidious poison, which breaks down anyone, no matter who they are." Rolan shook his head with a sigh. "It's no balm to heal what's been done, but you don't deserve to languish in the streets."

"I'm not sure what I deserve these days...but thank you, friend." The ache in his heart eases when Rolan pats his shoulder, surprising from the normally haughty man he'd known.

"Get some rest, we'll have use for you I'm sure." Rolan sniffed and got to his feet, looking down at Zevlor with a slight hum. "Pleasant dreams."

"Same to you."

The tiefling watches the camp inhabitants chat amongst each other or keep to themselves, and the burden in his heart eases even more when he's sent small smiles or waves, instead of anger or hatred that he'd been expecting.

He rests easy that night, dreaming of the time to come instead of that past he had lost.

[bhaalbaaby]

Title: genesis (3532 words) Pairing: astarion/tav Warnings: nsfw, fluff and smut A/N: more from astarion's pov lol ♥ very intimate; part three for moonlight on the river

Read on AO3!

Sarnarei glares at the Candulhallow's Tombstone, arms crossed. They spent fifteen minutes tearing the empty shop apart looking for the evidence for the murders. Karlach yawns as she checks the desk for the fifth time.

"Do you still have the journal from Dolor?" Shadowheart asks Sarnarei, stress lining her face. "I do, but I left it in my trunk."

"I suggest we go back and read it. There may be a key hidden there. Or at least a clue." Shadowheart replies, heading to the front of the building. Karlach follows, nodding. "Plus we can take a little break. It is getting a little late, soldier."

Sarnarei looks over at Astarion who waves his hand flippantly, "We can fight the big bad Bhaal once we're more rested." She grimaces but follows their party out.

As soon as they arrive, she tears through the chest, pulling out all the journals and tatted notes she saved looking for any sign. Astarion rests on the bed next to it watching as their merry party speaks to each other, waiting.

"I still want to at least figure out how to enter. We can go out for a moment. Whatever rests there, we won't fight tonight." Sarnarei says softly, mostly to herself.

"Do we have to go back out? I think we're all pretty exhausted." Astarion whispers, his eyes drinking in her dress, the way her hair falls in front of her face. He loves how determined she is. He holds himself back, wanting to kiss her and maybe more. She hasn't done anything different and yet...

She glances up at him, tilting her head to the side, not picking up on his cue. "Are you sure?"

He smirks, how adorable is she when she's clueless? His eyes flick up to Wyll who passes by as he nods, "Exhausted. So tired." He says it louder than necessary so the horned man could hear. Wyll turns, raising his eyebrow as he glances at Astarion. The vampire cuts his eyes to Sarnarei and then back to Wyll, hoping his silent pleas would be understood.

Wyll nods, a cheeky smile coming to his lips as he yawns so loudly, "I'm ready to turn in for the evening. How about you, Shadowheart? Halsin?" Astarion glares at the Warlock's back at the mention of Halsin. He didn't mind sharing her with him, especially when they weren't physical. The idea still doesn't bother him, at least he thinks. The two of them didn't spend that much time together from what he noticed anyway. When they did speak, they weren't physical. Maybe they broke up and she didn't tell him.

"Hmm, I could rest for the night," Halsin says, coming over to Sarnarei's side. "Is everything alright, my heart?" My heart.

Astarion keeps up his smirk, his mind racing with the possibilities in case Halsin chooses to stay.

She nods, turning to him, "Yeah, I found what I needed, but I don't want to overburden you all." She says sweetly, closing the trunk.

"Of course." He glances over at Astarion, "How are you handling everything?" He asks, his voice full of concern.

"Better. Thank you, Halsin." He gives him a curt nod. The druid raises his eyebrow, a compassionate smile on his lips. "I think we're going to go take Lakrissa up on her offer. Have a night to just relax while we can."

Karlach appears out of nowhere her vibrant smile brightening up the room as she wraps her arm around Halsin. "Fuck yes. Let's go! I hear they have a super funny comedian on tonight. I want to laugh my stomach bursts." She shoots a look at Shadowheart, "You can heal that, right?"

The cleric smirks as she rolls her eyes, "I would prefer it not come to that, but I will do my best." The rest of the crew filter out, Halsin being the last.

"Don't keep her too long, Astarion." He teases, winking as he closes the door.

He takes a deep breath as he returns to Sarnarei, who stands at her entrance a bit bewildered. "Alone with a bed." He says, ignoring her suspicion as he sits back down. He's bedded thousands, but the thought of being intimate with her makes him so anxious. Her confusion leaves as she sits next to him, concern taking over.

"I would like a night of passion with you, Sarnarei. If I can't handle it, I'll let you know so we can stop. I know that look in your eyes. You don't want me to feel distressed and we've been going slow, but I don't want to wait any longer. I think I'm ready." He states, taking her hands into his own.

She licks her lips, glancing up at him. "If you feel uneasy at any point, we will stop." She replies, moving closer. She misses him, misses his body against her own, but holds him in such regard. It would hurt her to the core if she did anything and he just went along with it to make her happy.

He nods, leaning forward, and kissing her slowly. He sucks on her bottom lip, dragging his teeth carefully along it. He leans her against the pillows, not breaking their kiss. She moans softly as her arms wrap around his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist. He pulls away, gazing upon his lover. She searches his face as her hands go to his ornate jacket, pulling at the buttons.

"I love you," He whispers as he shrugs the jacket off, letting it fall off the bed. His hand slips between her thighs, his fingers gently gliding along her pelvis over her pants.

"I love you too," She whispers back, rocking her hips against his touch. She slips her hand down along his pants where his cock stands half hard. He shudders at her touch, focusing on finding her pants, and dragging them off.

Her hands return to her body, fiddling with the corset top. His eyes stay glued to her chest, watching as they fall from the lack of support. He swallows hard as he leans down, replacing her hands with his own as he undoes her corset, taking the pretty and sturdy fabric from her torso, and adding it to their clothing pile. She whimpers as his kisses return to her neck and collarbone, his talented fingers massaging her chest through her beige sleep top. She closes her eyes as he runs his fingers along her top.

"Can I please you first?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion pauses in between his kisses, raising his eyebrow. "Please me first?"

She nods as she sits up, her hand returning to his hardening cock. "You always please me first. I want to make sure you're sated." She explains, tracing her fingers up to his loosened frilly shirt, dragging it over his body. He nods after a moment, considering. The worst thing is that he could disassociate, but Sarnarei's attention and focus are so acute on him, that she would notice and stop in her tracks. He feels like a burden as he rests on the other side of the daybed. "Tell me to stop if you don't like it." She whispers, helping him out of his trousers. He gives another nod as she pecks him quickly, her soft body caressing his.

"My sweet, I can handle a blowjob." He says sarcastically, running his fingers through her hair as she slides between his legs. 

Astarion watches her with heated eyes as she holds his cock in her hands. He exhales deeply as he looks up at the ceiling, her hands gently stroking him. She leans down, pressing soft kisses along his shaft. He closes his eyes, keeping his hands to himself. Before he would have forced her mouth open, fucking her mouth hard, hearing her gags and whimper. But he lets her take her time now, her tongue tasting him. She smiles up at him as she reaches his tip, her tongue rolling around it. Her fangs peak just underneath her full lips, framing his cock so dangerously. He groans softly, his knee coming up as he gently pets her hair. Just focus on her, his mind repeats as she opens her mouth, guiding his cock down her throat. He watches as she closes her eyes, bobbing her head along his shaft. She moans softly as she drags her fingertips along his inner thighs, her eyes cutting up to his.

His breathing quickens as he massages her scalp, her mouth perfectly warm around his shaft. His fingers grip her hair, his hips trying to thrust lazily into her mouth to quicken her speed. He can't help it, moaning as her tongue rests against the thick underside vein, gently pressing along it as she massages it with each bob. Halsin must have taught her that, he thinks quickly as he tosses his head back.

"My love..." He moans, trying to keep in the present. She pulls up, stroking him. "You are being too devilishly good." He purrs as she rubs him off, feeling proud of herself.

"Oh?" She asks before sucking his pink tip again, her plump lips the perfect frame around it. He closes his eyes briefly as she takes him as far as she can, her mewls muffled. His hips buck against her mouth as he feels himself getting lost in the pleasure.

Too dangerous, too tempting. 

"That's enough. I need you." He says, dragging her head up to his cold lips. She laughs softly against his lips, kissing him back. He pushes her back, rolling to be on top of her. His hard cock presses along her warm slit but he pulls away, quickly lying on his stomach as he buries his head between her thighs.

She arches her back, her hips pressing against his mouth. She can barely get her bearings as his tongue prods her apart. Her moans fill the room as his tongue laps at her clit. Her hands tug her shirt off before returning to her breasts, playing with her nipples as she watches his feast. She bites her lip, her breathing quickening. She missed this, so much. Sure she's had others now, but Astarion... She closes her eyes as she moans, her legs resting on his shoulders. He could taste her getting closer, her clit becoming more engorged with each suckle. He comes up for air gently biting her inner thigh before making a trail of kisses up her belly, her chest, and her mouth. He finds focusing on her makes it more enjoyable. She's so reactive to him, the way her tongue rolls around with his, her moans. He breaks the kiss, giving her time to breathe.

He rubs his cock against her, remembering how much physically he loves the ridges above her slit. He's so sensitive already from his want for her, that he takes a deep breath, trying not to get overwhelmed. He gently thrusts inside of her, both of them moaning. He laughs softly as she looks away, her cheeks flushed. 

He holds himself above her, wanting to watch her every reaction as he starts to rock his hips. Her brows knit together as she whimpers tiny prayers to some unknown god. He smiles to himself, how dramatic she is being. He hasn't even done anything yet. He picks up his pace, needing more of her reactions, her moans. "Ah, I love you... Oh, my love." She whines, her hands covering her face as she pants. He frowns as he thrusts harder, taking her hands from her face, their fingers interlacing. 

"Please don't hide your face from me." He says, pounding into her. She nods, her brows knitting up as she looks up at him. Her watchful eyes meet his, a quick assessment before he rolls his hips against hers. A distraction, he thinks as she cries out, looking away again. She clenches around him as she opens her legs more for him. He can feel himself slipping into overdrive, doing it until he releases. This will be an uphill battle. He wants to stay in the moment so badly, but the motions are the same. The same sensations he'd felt for so long. 

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, holding him closer, making him slow down. His breathing catches in his throat as she kisses him softly, their hips rocking together. The act brings him back to the moment, his hand leaving hers as he cups her breast, tweaking her nipple between his fingers.

She breaks the kiss, whimpering. Their foreheads touch, and their breathing becomes one. He brushes his nose against hers, their lips barely touching as they pant. His hips grind, burying himself deep inside.

"Astarion..." She moans, her hands resting on either side of his head, their eyes locking.

He grins, picking up his pace again. "Like that?" He asks, feeling electricity in their touch, their gaze.

"Y-y-yes!" She stammers, struggling to keep up. Her tail rests on the back of his thigh, running up and down as he thrusts. He growls, enjoying her gentle touch on his body.

He slows, pulling back. He wants to see the full view again, his hands resting on the underside of her knees. Her arm covers her mouth, muffling her praises as he continues his slow pace. He watches as his cock disappears inside of her warm inviting hole before rocking his hips back. Gods... He doesn't think he'll last long, overwhelmed with his need for her. How gorgeous she is coming undone beneath him. He lets go of her leg briefly, removing her hand from her mouth. "Please, my love. I need to see you." He whispers, returning his hand to her leg. She scrunches up her nose as she looks away, feeling so full from his thrusts.

"Can, can I ride you?" She asks in between cries. He nods laughing softly to himself, reluctant to pull out. He's feeling more alive now, invigorated. She smiles up at him, kissing him quickly, following as he lies on his back. Before she mounts him, she assesses him, staring deeply into his eyes. "We can stop if you want."

He shakes his head, guiding her hips down. "I don't want to." He smiles, kissing her valid worries away.

She whines as he thrusts inside, stretching her again. He doesn't want to give her room to doubt. She saw his familiar face distant look creeping in despite his best efforts. His fingertips gently massage her ass, feeling her tail swipe back and forth between his legs. Her hands rest on his shoulders, her ass rocking back against his thighs.

"You're perfect. So perfect." He whispers as she lifts her hips slightly, trying to find a comfortable pace on her knees.

She rolls her eyes, trying to suppress the smile, moaning out instead. "You're so... Handsome." She replies quickly, feeling his grip tighten on her hips.

His brow quirks up as he smirks, "Oh, go on." He slowly takes over the pace, finding a comfortable rhythm.

She squirms above him, trying to handle his languid thrusts while trying to answer his question, gasping every time he fully sheathes her. "Ah... The Gods took their time... When creating you..." She barely can make out her compliment as he varies his speed, watching as her face contorts with ecstasy.

"They really did, darling, but..." He quickens his thrusts, delighted with himself when her tail wraps around his shin for leverage against his relentless strokes. "I think you could do better."

She whimpers, her nails digging into his shoulders, her breasts bouncing between her arms. "Fuck. Astarion. Please." Her stomach tenses from the immense pleasure. He groans with her, her warm walls clenching around his cock. Her moans become his favorite song, his name on her lips only increasing his need for her. He focuses on the pain from her nails digging into his skin, pounding as hard as he can as she loses her grip, laying on top of him as she cries into his neck. 

He slows, giving her a chance to catch her breath, edging her as she rocks her hips, slowly riding him. She sits up after a moment, her eyes still closed as she tries to get more comfortable on her knees after the pummeling. He closes his eyes, enjoying her taking her time, his cock nestled deep inside, his tip pressing against her c-spot. She squirms again as she tries her best to ride him, her legs shaking. He smiles up at her, her brown skin with a soft sheen of sweat.

"Every time I move, I get so overwhelmed." She says quickly, turning her head away from him as she rocks her hips. She glances down at him through her lashes, checking to see if he's still present.

His eyes are hungry as he digs his fingers into her skin, starting to take over the pace again. "My love, I am lost in your pleasure. Those beautiful brown orbs hypnotize me." He starts his thrusts again, her eyes shut tight, her tail gripping him hard. She leans down, wrapping her arms around him as she comes undone above him, his name sung to the heavens. She tosses her head back as she holds herself still against his thrusts. She makes fists against his chest, her orgasm taking her vision. 

He's proud of himself, feeling her contract and gush around him. Her pleasure belongs just to him, no one else. He moans with her, not giving her time to relax this time as he leans up, wrapping her in an embrace as he buries his head in her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. He grinds against her in this new position, panting against her hot skin. He lifts his hips against her, rutting against her, his tip convulsing inside.

She's too perfect, too close to the sun and like some mortal flying close, he dares try, unafraid of burns. He almost bites her neck out of habit, to eat and spill his seed as he's done for the past centuries. He stops himself, giving her soft unhurried kisses along her neck and chest, as he twitches inside with each thrust. He is so used to going as fast as he can once he feels himself about to cum. Always a race, but he takes his time, feeling more sensitive each time he thrusts inside.

The urge to relentlessly pound her does wash over him, but he keeps at it, her moans cheering him on. He tenses each time her ass comes flush against his skin, nostrils flaring. "Sarnarei..." He whimpers her name, his hands wrapping around her back. "I love you. I..."

She doesn't say it back, not having a chance as she feels his engorged tip pressing against her cervix. She holds him close to her chest as he pants, his body contracting as he holds his hips up, his cock erupting deep inside of her womb.

Neither of them says anything, their haggard breaths and soft sighs fill the silence. Her fingers massage his damp scalp while the others make a small circular pattern on his shoulder. If he could sleep, he would. He would sleep for eternity in her arms. He glances up at her after a moment, a sleepy smile on his face. She returns the sleepy smile, too tired to check him over and assess him. "I love you too," She finally replies, her voice hoarse.

She moves from his lap, letting his now flaccid cock slip out. She whimpers, missing the fullness. Astarion rolls his eyes as he pulls her into a cuddle, staring up at the wooden ceiling. "I was so nervous before..." He admits, laughing to himself.

"Nervous?" She asks, worries lining her face.

"I know. How could I be nervous about something as easy as this." His voice is light but his expression serious as he glances down at his partner. "I wanted you. Craved you. I starved and you brought me back to life. I felt so connected." The worries disappear as she kisses his shoulder. "I still will need more time before we make this a regular occurrence again."

Sarnarei traces another mindless pattern on his chest, nodding. "Take all the time you need. I'll always be here. You know I won't mind." Her smile is warm and understanding. Always so understanding.

He lifts her face towards his, the chaste kiss deepening as he pulls her closer, his thigh brushing against her still swelling clit. She whimpers against his mouth, breaking the kiss. "I can still tease though," Astarion says cheekily.

"Don't tease me too much. I don't know if I can go again." She whines hiding her face.

"Well, in that case, we should probably go down to see this comedian."

Sarnarei grimaces as she lifts her head, feeling exhausted. "We could just stay here."

Astarion nips her neck playfully. "There's too much temptation in this bed... Come, let's go have some fun, my sweet. We can always see where the night takes us." He picks her up with ease, her giggles erupting from her chest as he leads them to the bath to clean up.