#i think he has his hand in astarion's hair and then tugs him off his neck by astarion's roots and tells him he's had enough

[cherryandsugar]

Hello! I’d like to request a post-game or post-Cazador fic where the reader/Tav takes Astarion on his first real date (or first in 200 yrs anyways). It would be so cute to see Astarion all surprised/excited/flustered to experience something so ‘normal’. Thank you! :)

did it take me 8 months to answer your request? yes. am i sorry? absolutely. will it happen to someone else again? most definitely. either way, i hope you enjoy, this was very fun to write!

Title: You And Him and the Ocean

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x Reader

WC: 1,133

Warnings: none! all fluff!

Summary: You plan a surprise for Astarion

---

“Keep them closed!” you commanded giddily as you led a bewildered Astarion through the lower city streets, “It’s a surprise!!”

“So you keep reminding me, darling,” Astarion sighed behind you, exasperated by your secretive behavior. His grip on your hand tightened as he felt another slight tug, your excitement palpable. “But you have yet to tell me what this ‘surprise’ of yours is for.”

“Of course, silly, that would ruin it,” you reasoned.

“Well we can’t have that,” Astarion huffed. Despite his seemingly annoyed tone, he kept his eyes dutifully shut at your request, trusting you to guide him to your destination, wherever that may be. Although he may not understand your secrecy, he’ll be damned if he’s the reason your excitement wavers. 

A cool breeze washes over the both of you, ruffling his hair. He has to fight the urge to run his hands through it, to make sure he was still presentable, of course. Faintly, he can hear the distant lapping of waves upon a shore, and he wonders just how far you’ve dragged him from home.

Since the fall of the Nether Brain the two of you had been living in a lovely little flat near the Society of Brilliance in the Lower City. He had insisted you find something more suitable in the Upper City, but you had laughed and said “Sure, my love, as soon as they clear the rubble and rebuild it from the ground up.” He supposed you had a point there. Besides, the Lower City wasn’t awful. The people there were much more familiar with your exploits, having spent most of your journey there, helping people where you could before ultimately saving the entire city. The people were also much more accepting of his vampirism, which was quite difficult to keep secret with the absence of a certain tadpole and the publicity of your groups’ good deeds. People knew him here, or knew of him at least. They accepted him. And you were happy here, having grown up and lived in the Lower City before all of that illithid nonsense.

And he was grateful for your apparent familiarity with these streets as you led him around another corner, never faltering in your guidance. The sounds of (what he assumed to be) the ocean grew louder, and the breeze ever so slightly stronger. The night air is chilly of course, but nothing he’s not used to, not after his lamentable return to the shadows. 

You slow in front of him, stopping for a moment before you speak, “Okay, now be careful, we’re about to go down a few stairs,” you warn.

He’s about to make another quip about your foolishness before he feels you start walking again, slower this time as you descend. He’s slower still, taking his time to find each step before trusting himself to shift his weight.

“Almost there,” you reassure him, “Last one!” and his shoes sink slightly into sand. Right, so definitely the beach, then, he thinks.

“Honestly dearest, whatever it is you can just tell me,” he jests, “There’s no need for all the drama.”

“Hush you,” you respond, “Come along, just a few more steps.” You guide him along the sand until his feet step onto something more solid. “Okay, okay, and… open!” you exclaim.

Finally, he opens his eyes. He was right, standing on the beginning of a short dock he sees the ocean stretch out before him, as if the salt in the air hadn’t already given that away. The clear night sky allows the moonlight to reflect off the shimmering waves. But what’s less obvious to him is what lies directly ahead. Lining the dock are lit candles of every color, leading to a lovely little overwater-gazebo. You, never having dropped his hand, begin to lead him towards it, walking slightly in front of him on the way. He followed soundlessly, taking everything in as you ducked under the roof of the gazebo.

Sitting before him, was a cozy looking blanket, set with two glasses, a bottle of wine and a lovely vase of roses. All around you, lanterns hung from the rafters, illuminating the space in a warm glow. The light seemed to swim in your eyes. You took a seat on the quilt and looked up at him expectantly.

Hesitantly, as if his bones were made of lead, he lowered himself down, still looking to you for assurance, “What is this?” he all but whispered. 

You tilted your head slightly to the side and blinked at his question, Gods you were adorable. “What do you mean?” you half-laughed, “It’s a date! Do you like it?”

If he had to breathe, he’s sure the breath would have been cleared from his chest. All this, for him? The lights, the wine, the romantic setting? Surely it was too good to be true, you were too good to be true. He looked around, almost as if lost, and he noticed a furrow form between your brows, whether from concern or confusion he couldn’t tell.

“You did all this for me?” he breathed, slowly lowering himself to join you on the blanket.

“Of course I did. It’s just wine and a blanket, Astarion. You act like I’ve built you a palace, are you okay?” you finished on a concerned note, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“Yes, I’m quite alright, it’s just… no one’s ever done something like this for me,” he explained, still looking out over the water.

“Oh,” you hesitated for a moment, “then I guess I’ll need to do things like this for you more often,” you finished with a cheeky smile, taking his hand back into your own and giving it a gentle squeeze.

He squeezed back, turning to lock eyes with you, “Gods, I love you. Have I told you that recently?”

“Hmmm, let me think, only every single day. But, you could tell me once more if you really feel like it,” you joked.

“I love you,” he stated. No frills, no embellishments, just love. Just you and him and the ocean. 

“I love you too,” you replied, closing your eyes and leaning forward for a kiss, which he eagerly supplied. Your lips were soft and light against his own. A slow, lazy thing between two people who had all the time in the world, and no one they’d rather spend it with. You gradually separated, and opened your eyes to meet his. The lantern light sparkled in your eyes. He'd never felt so loved, so valued.

You broke eye contact first, taking the bottle of wine you'd prepared and pouring two glasses.

"Shall we?" you asked, raising your glass.

"We shall," he agreed, lifting his own to clink against yours.

"To the first of many," you toasted.

The first of many indeed.

[beresaad]

There, in dim firelight, you see him for what he really is: a vampire. A slave to sanguine hunger. This is a gift, you know. I won't forget it.

[dreamingcricket]

politely requesting either halsin or astarion with a tav/reader who like..shrugs off their advances bc they don’t think someone like either of them would take interest in them. like very oblivious to the fact that people actually like them. (totally not self indulgent lmao) ((i love mutual pining to lovers i-))

CW: Mild sexual content, reader is injured

Astarion has started to question whether this is your way of gently rebuffing him, or you're actually this dense.

He's not a subtle flirt. He uses all his most seasoned tricks, exhausts every overture he can think of. He can't remember wanting anyone this much. And yet, every one of his suggestive quips is laughed off.

He's there in the morning, sliding in beside you as you drink your tea. "Good morning, beautiful. You're looking absolutely radiant today." He runs a finger down your arm. When you blush and smile back, something warms in the pit of his stomach.

He's there as you put on your armour. "Allow me, dove." And as he tightens the straps on your mantle, he lets his fingers brush the underside of your jaw. "There. Just right." He purrs into your ear.

And of course, when he feeds. He takes his time, pulling you close, cradling your head, running his fingers through your hair. He nuzzles into your neck before he bites, pressing his lips against your rabbiting pulse for just a moment longer than he should.

Even in battle, when he's swiftly at your back, flashing you brilliant smiles as he races to your defense, you jovially thank him, like you do all your companions. Like he's your friend. Just your friend.

All efforts so far, completely ignored.

So now he watches you from across camp, the firelight dancing across your features as you laugh (he tries to ignore the tender stirring in his chest at the sound).

He throws back his glass of wine, and grimaces at the pitying glances of his compatriots. Of course it was obvious to anyone except you.

You stood, bid Wyll and Karlach goodnight, but instead of disappearing into your tent, you vanished into the brush.

Astarion sat for a long moment. He should let you go. You clearly weren't interested, and he should just... move on. Like he always had.

Who are you kidding, you fool?

He didn't care that he startled Gale with his speed and he pursued you into the woods.

You were seated on a rock, your face turned up toward a shaft of moonlight, eyes closed. He stopped to admire you.

"Sorry I took off. I just wanted to enjoy the quiet."

"I'll go, if you want me to."

You start, and turn towards his voice. "Astarion, didn't expect you."

"Were you expecting someone?"

"No... just-

He's suddenly surging forward without thought, and the two of you are rolling across the grass.

"Astarion, what the fu-"

He silences you with a burning kiss, brimming with anger and desperation. You roll him onto his back, furiously returning his advance. "What-" you pant between kisses. "-took you so long, idiot."

He's furiously tugging at your linen shirt, baring your back and shoulders. You'd be angry if you weren't still reeling.

"You never flirted back!" He pins you down, only to find his hips locked between your legs.

"I flirt constantly, Astarion! You drink my blood every night! I've been waiting for you to take the next step for weeks!" Now it's you tearing at his shirt, your hands groping for purchase on his shoulders. "I thought you didn't think of me like that." Now it's your lips against his neck, and he chokes on a moan.

"That's not flirting!" He's never been this heated during sex. He's a collected lover, and for all the inherent violence of his existence, he realizes - he wants to be gentle. At least this time.

He takes your hands in his and stills your thrashing. You lock eyes, both of you out of breath, chests heaving. He places a single, gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. "Shall we begin again, love?"

"I'd like that."

"My name's Astarion. You are a truly stunning creature," he leans down, and whispers to you, "... and I'd very much like to make love to you tonight."

Halsin thinks you are quite possibly the most extraordinary person he's ever met.

 

He can't erase the image of you the first time he saw you from his mind, eyes ablaze, arcane power crackling at your fingertips. 

He's had so many partners, but all of his love affairs were brief, transient. Deep, but nothing had ever moved him like this. Typically, Halsin is straightforward with his feelings. His passing dalliances with fellow druids and traveling rangers had never daunted him. But with you, making his feelings known was... complicated.

You'd been through a significant trauma, and while you put on a quite the brave face, ever the intrepid leader, he's been around long enough to see your fragility. You'd seen so many horrors in such a short amount of time. Emotions were running high, he wouldn't risk coming on too strong.

So instead... he brought you gifts. It was a very natural way to court someone, at least. Baskets of berries, a fresh catch from the river, perhaps they're gifts to his own taste, but he hopes you'll enjoy them.

He offered to braid your hair, to help ease the tension in your shoulders with a massage in the evenings (his hands are absolutely enormous, which certainly helps). 

And, unbeknownst to the rest of the camp, and to his mild shame, he couldn't help but rub his scent near your tent. He wouldn't invade your boundaries and touch your things, but he couldn't help his instincts. Lae'zel noticed at last, but only scoffed and offhandedly remarked, "The way you dance around your affections is pathetic. Tell them, or stop simpering."

Things eventually came to a head when you were injured, badly. The arrow tore through your side, and you hit the ground before you could register you'd been shot, the world became pain and a blur of color and noise. 

Halsin was by your side in a heartbeat, shielding you with his frame as spells and arrows flew overhead.

"Don't move little one, you're losing blood." He sounded calm, but there was a tremor in his voice. You'd never seen him afraid before.

"Halsin..."

"Shh, shh. Hold still." His magic flows through you, and the muscles in your side knit back together as he pulls the arrow free.

"Halsin." Your hand lifted to weakly brush his cheek. Your vision was swimming. 

The thunderous roar of battle magic echoed nearby. Gale rushed towards you. "Are they alright?"

"They will be." Halsin spoke it like an oath. "But they're weak." 

"We'll finish this, get them to safety!"

Halsin cradled your body to his chest and barreled off the battlefield. You drifted in and out of consciousness, but were always aware of his arms around you. They felt like safety. Like home.

The druid ducks behind a half destroyed wall, and begins to reassess your wound. "Gods, you frightened me." He lays you down carefully, head in his lap, and begins to clean the wound. 

You smile up at him. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me."

"I like this."

He's puzzled. "Being horribly injured?"

"Being held by you." 

At that moment, your body finally gave out, and your vision went black. 

When you woke, bandaged and sore, in your tent, Halsin was sitting by your bedroll with his back to you. Recalling in horror the confession you'd made, you try to pretend you were still asleep. 

"I know you're awake, little one." 

You sigh. "I'm... about what I said, I'm sorry. I know you don't feel that way, and-" 

"Stop." He turned and placed a finger against your lips. "No more words." 

You braced for his rejection. At least the druid was kind, empathetic. Or perhaps his pity would make it worse. 

His lips coming down on yours were not what you expected. He was gentle, and smelled of moss and pretrichor, dark soil and sweat. You kissed him back, laughing into his mouth. 

He pulls away, then presses his forehead to yours. "I'm here. As long as you'll have me." 

"Oh, I intend to." Your attempt to sit up is hampered by a shock of pain from your wound. "Ow. Shit."

Halsin guides you back down to your pillows. "All in good time, little one."

[bloodsuckingfiends]

Take Care of You

Summary: Tav's selflessness does not go unnoticed by Astarion, but so doesn't the way her selflessness is at the expense of her own well-being. He decides to take it into his own hands to take care of her... in more ways than one.

Pairing: Astarion x fem! Tav (reader)

Warnings: Tav overworks herself and neglects her own needs/selfcare, smut, fingering (Tav is AFAB), feminine pet names used, praise kink, I think that's it!

Word Count: 1.3k+

A/N: I have brainworms again and need to get this out sooooo enjoy?

Oftentimes, Astarion found that Tav tended to the needs of others, but very rarely to any needs of her own. He had witnessed Tav spend the last 3 days taking care of everyone, including himself in various ways that had her now looking, and surely feeling, absolutely exhausted. As he stood outside his tent, eyes scanning the camp setup before him, his gaze zeroed in on his Tav who was currently starting the fire, and helping to set up Gale’s various cooking tools and ingredients. A soft smile tugged at his lips just at the mere sight of her, before turning to a frown. As it was, Gale was away from camp, surely bathing off the day’s blood and grime along with their other companions, as Tav readied everything for their return. Her hair was crusted with blood, as was her armor, and her cheeks were streaked with dirt. Her eyes ringed with purple, tell tale signs of her exhaustion.

With a sigh, Astarion makes his way across camp, coming to stand beside Tav,

“Darling, I must say, you do look absolutely ravishing in red, but don’t you think it’s a good idea to get cleaned up?” She looks up at him with doe eyes, hands not stilling in their endeavor to help.

“Oh I don’t mind waiting. The others won’t be long, and besides, I just want to help set up for Gale. He’s always so kind as to make dinner for everyone, so this is me paying him back.”

Astarion manages to internalize his eye roll, and hold his tongue from pointing out that Tav has saved the wizard plenty of times in battle to make up for the meager stew that’s served nearly daily.

He places a hand on her shoulder, before pulling back and dusting the dried blood off his hand, “I just worry that you haven’t been taking care of yourself, is all.” a clear of his throat does well to cover the awkwardness he feels at saying such a vulnerable thing to her. 

“I’m alright Star, no need to worry.” She gives him a glance and a little smile.

“I don’t mean to be blunt darling, but you look positively dreadful and like you could use a nap. Please, let me take care of you.” Astarion huffs, frustrated at her stubbornness. Tav straightens up and turns, her eyes meeting his almost pleading ones, “Okay, I’ll let you take care of me.” Her voice comes out a quiet murmur. There was no denying him when he gave her that look.

The others arrive back to camp not long after Astarion gathers fresh clothes, a comb, and toiletries for Tav. He leads her to a secluded spot along the shore of a small lake they are camped by, before unbuckling and removing her heavy armor and underclothes, leaning forwards to press a kiss to her forehead as he does so. He strips himself of his own clothes, regardless of having bathed earlier that evening, taking Tav’s hand in his own and bringing her to the water. Astarion gets to work, lathering the soap between his hands, and gently scrubbing the filth from Tav’s body and face, a shiver running through her at his touch. He has her fully dip underwater, then begins to work the soap through the blood drenched strands of her hair, massaging at her scalp with his fingertips. Tav lets a moan slip past her lips.

“Does that feel good darling?” Astarion chuckles as he brings the soap down to the ends of her hair.

She mumbles an affirmative, her eyes flutter shut. 

“Alright, there we go. Just rinse this out for me, will you, love?” 

Tav dips back below the surface, thoroughly rinsing out her locks. When she resurfaces, Astarion can’t help but bite his lip at the sight. The water rolling down her neck, over her breasts as she pushes her hair away from her face. She looks like a painting, he thinks. 

The two dry off, and Tav dresses in the clothes that Astarion had brought along for her; a pair of loose trousers, and one of his ruffled night shirts she so loved to steal. Once in Astarion’s tent, the vampire sits, patting the space between his legs and motioning for Tav to take a seat. She obeys, and sits while he starts to comb her hair.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” he hums, fingers beginning to plait her hair.

“I’m okay. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I am.” Tav yawns, her hands mindlessly playing with a loose thread on his trousers.

“Tav, you really must take care of yourself. You put everyone, including myself, before you. It’s really no wonder you’re so exhausted.” he ties off the braid with a piece of leather. His arms come around to wrap over Tav’s chest, holding her against his own and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.

“I just want to help everyone, and I guess I lose myself in the process.” a chill runs through her at the feel of his lips on her sensitive skin. 

“Darling, do you think you could try to lose yourself in me, just for a moment, hm?” his tongue flicks against the edge of  her jaw. 

She gasps in a breath, and stutters, “ye-yes, I think I could do that.” 

“Let me take care of you.” One hand whispers across her chest, lightly cupping one breast in it’s hold, before trailing down her stomach, and dancing along the waist of her trousers, “Let’’s take these off.”

Tav shimmies her pants over her hips and down her legs, toeing them off to the side. Astarion runs his hands down her naked thighs, hooking beneath them to lift them and rest them over the tops of his, successfully spreading her open for him. Her breath catches in her chest, the cool air hitting her already sensitive cunt.

“My my, look at you. You’re already positively dripping.” He dips his fingers below and runs his middle finger through her wet, swollen slit, opposite hand running up her ribcage, grasping at her breasts and teasing at her nipples. He toys at her entrance, teasing the tips of his fingers in  her before pushing slowly inside. Tav moans, her chest heaving slightly at the intrusion. 

“That’s it, such a good girl taking my fingers like this.” Astarion coos in her ear, nose pressed to her cheek. He begins to pump his digits in and out, crooking them just enough to rub at that spot that makes her mewl. 

“Just feel how good I’m making you feel, my love.” The pace of his fingers picks up, and his other hand pinches at one of her nipples. 

“St-Star, I’m close.” her head falls back against his shoulder, throat exposed for his mouth’s taking. Thighs shake against his as she nears her end. He sucks and licks at the flesh of her throat, fingers continuing their pace. The hand playing with her breasts, makes its way down to circle her swollen clit. Tav whines at the contact, hands grip at his forearms, grounding her to the moment. 

“That’s it, pet. Come for me. Come around my fingers, I want to feel it.” 

Her cunt spasms around him, thighs quaking and hips lifting to meet his movements. Moans fly past her lips, as she rides out her orgasm. Astarion slows his fingers as she comes down from her high, “Shh shh shh, there we go.” Tav looks back at him, a blissed out, glassy look to her eyes. “There you are, darling. How did that feel?” 

She tries to regulate her breathing, “So good.” she manages to reply.

He grabs a cloth, and cleans her up, then slips back on her underclothes and trousers. 

“Come here, my love.” He scoops her up and lays her down, her head upon his chest, as he pulls the bedroll and blankets around the two of them. 

“Thank you Star, for taking care of me.” Tav mumbles as she drifts off and gets the much needed rest that she deserves.

[feyascorner]

Despite the less than fortunate circumstances the two of you met in, you think Astarion is the closest thing a person could call a perfect lover.

Besides one, rather large thing that eats at you every night.

He hogs the blanket.

You've tried everything. More blankets, building a wall with pillows, more blankets, lighting the fireplace, and oh, did I mention more blankets?

With each attempt, you wake up shivering in the dead of night, because he has absolutely everything draped over his body—not even wrapped around him—like a mountain of fabric piled on top of him. He sleeps like a corpse, hands and arms stuck to his sides, so why the hells he needs so many, you don't understand.

And when you yank away the blankets, your hands brush against his skin which you swear border on freezing temperatures. If you wrap yourself around multiple times with blankets, it somehow always ends up near him, leaving you to face the blaring cold by yourself.

Quite honestly, you're fed up.

“Darling, there are better ways of asking to tie me up.”

You scoff, tightening the bedroll around his entire body with the strap that comes along with it. “If I wanted to tie you up, it would feel sexier than this.”

“Trust me, love, I think you're sexy even when your hair looks like a nest in the morning.”

You glare at him which earns you a cheeky grin. “I wouldn't look like that if you let me have one night of sleep without waking up to a blizzard!”

He wiggles a bit in the bedroll, testing it out. And just when you think it might hold, the bindings fall apart, and he’s staring at you with lidded eyes, arms free to swipe the blankets away from you. You groan in frustration.

“This is hopeless.”

“There are other means of warming me up, if you’re willing.”

You roll your eyes and he laughs, sitting up to speak to you properly. “I’m only cold because you sleep so far away from me. You're practically on the edge of the bed, hanging off.”

“Because I don't want to make you uncomfortable and accidentally touch you without asking!”

He raises a brow at this. “Surely that's not why you avoid me like the bloody plague when we’re resting?”

Sheepishly, you tug the blanket over your legs. He eyes you up and down with a silent pause, before reaching to pull you against him. He leans backwards into the mattress and drags you along with him, which you nearly yelp at though he doesn't seemed fazed himself. With your face pressed against his chest and your legs entangled with his, you can barely let out your voice without making it sound flustered.

“What is this supposed to be?”

“I won't be cold, and you’ll have your blanket this way.”

You feel his skin against yours. “…you’re freezing.” You want to stay like this forever.

“You’ll adjust, love.”

And as he pulls the blanket over the both of you, he clears his throat.

“And for the record,” he mumbles against your temple. “I don't mind if you're the one touching me.”

[twi-liight]

Sooo. You just posted Petty Jealousy 20 mins ago and I just wanted to say that I loveeee itttt. Can we please have more? Like Astarion and the other companions subtly do somethings to the person they’re jealous of to turn them away from Tav.

Tav’s companions are just sooo cutee when they’re jealous. Wyll and perhaps, Halsin being the only sensible ones.

Thank you!

Red With Envy ❣

The YA love heptagon of the century: Tavrem. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Lae'zel/Tav, Companions/Tav. It's Gale/Astarion if you squint. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you! ❥ PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Astarion would never beseech himself to touch a member of the working class, but things change. People change. And here he is draping an arm around Gale’s shoulders to boldly declare his presence upon the rickety, wooden table. 

“Oh.” Blink blink. Gale gawks with round eyes, then not-so-discreetly glances away from Astarion’s heavy gaze to the only present company at the table: salted bread with thick slices of white cheese, anchovies, and sop for the bread. This sorry excuse of a presentation must be breakfast, which begs the question- Is Gale’s blood so blue that he cannot skip a meal or is he trying to make a favorable impression? 

Astarion would much prefer the former. It means he does not need to scrub his hands raw from the filth of peasants after this interaction.

“Uh, good morning, Astarion.” 

“Mm?” He flashes his fangs to grin. “A good morning indeed, my friend. How lovely the dawn breaks over the horizon, but with no one to share the scenery with! I pitied you, and out of the kindness of my heart, opted to join you.” 

Alright, enough touching. Astarion draws his arm back to poise a curled hand beneath his chin, glancing over Gale’s face in a vain attempt to study him. “Well-combed hair. Your posture,” he raises his hand to gesture at the wizard, “is much cleaner than yesterday. You’re practically glowing with morning dew, and…”

Here, he leans forward, just enough so that his nose lingers on the curve of Gale’s neck, just so his hot breath hits his skin as he murmurs, “You smell like Tav.” 

This greedy bastard slept in their tent last night because he caught some sickness from meandering about gaseous spores, and Tav cannot ignore the needy. Would that Gale be some beggar on the road and not an accomplished wizard with a higher emotional maturity than he.  

Astarion would be more comforted if he was a one night stand, a quick romp for the leader of their party to take the edge off. But anything beyond that is sabotage for his best-laid plans. 

Astarion’s smirk curls as deep, roiling darkness tug at his mind. He leans back slowly, never breaking eye contact. “They let you sleep in their tent. What a darling.” While they slept by the fire, ash and dirt swirling in their hair, Gale was embraced in Tav’s blankets and scarves. The lingering scent of something floral sticks on his skin, and Astarion recognizes it as the oleander Shadowheart presented Tav a fortnight ago. 

Gale smells something else: rusty and metallic, like the smell of a storm brewing. Has Astarion’s eyes deepened in color, like wine? His tongue feels heavy in his mouth all of a sudden. “Yes,” he agrees, thinking of Tav for some semblance of comfort. “I was sick, and they offered their tent for the night. More blankets, they said. Easier to be warm in - look, Astarion, do you have a problem with my friendship with Tav?” 

The laugh that pushes its way forcibly out of his sneering lips is sharp and mocking. Something burns in his chest, and it feels like seething anger. “My, that’s a strong word. I would say acquaintance is more befitting of your,” Astarion gestures to Gale once more, fighting back a scowl, “station. You’ve known Tav for barely a few months - they’re not quick to brand just anyone as a friend.” 

“Is that right?” Gale’s brown eyes spark with challenge. What a doll. Finally got his spine. “I ought to wonder how you befriended them, then. Anyone with half a mind knows your shenanigans are acts of desperation; you want them to like you so you can manipulate them. I know your type, Astarion.” 

“And you… You, what, you are not? You’re using Tav just as much as I am, darling. Otherwise, what are you here for? Companionship? Ha!” Astarion does not know why, but his entire being is alight. As if the sun’s rays are scorching him. He can barely contain his temper, barking out between sharp teeth, “Get a grip.” 

Gale is hardly fazed. “You’re delusional. Whatever threat you think I present to you?” He lifts his chin, eyes alight with power and rage. “Confront it. Dig your grave. Lie in it. While you’re busy lurking in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to dance them around your little games, guess where I will be?” 

Silent, seething anger. It burns. Astarion’s eyes are blown wide with rage as he gazes into Gale’s eyes, digging his nails into his palm as his fingers wrap around the hilt of his dagger. 

“There to catch them when they realize everything you’ve done is just an act.” Gale leans forward this time, a warning blazing in his brown eyes. “Think whatever you wish of me, Astarion, but never in your life think I would never fight for those I cherish.” 

Cherish. Astarion almost sinks his teeth in his throat to shut him up. “Good,” he purrs, fighting every urge not to massacre Gale where he sits with his dingy little breakfast. “I would be sorely disappointed if you succumbed too easily to me.” 

This would be so much easier if Astarion didn’t care about losing Gale, either. If he must concede, Astarion can admit to himself and the Devil alone that Gale is beyond useful in battle. Herald of the Weave, Mystra’s little boytoy? He would be endeared to watch Gale’s story end. Whether it be in smithereens or in the bosom of his former goddess, it will be fun to watch. 

Something in the back of his mind gnaws at his anxiety that Gale will be the one to turn Tav against him. This pretty little fool never wanted him in the party, wary of him, which is the smart thing to do. Tav was not. Tav was too easy to trust him. To easy to ply around his fingers until he had them even offer up their blood. 

He resents Gale for making space in their heart. It could have been his. 

“The dawn rises as I do: strong, and watching over two bread boys exchanging heated words like knives.” Lae’zel’s voice, sleek and smooth, startles them. Gale visibly jolts away from his proximity to Astarion’s face, brown eyes widening as Lae’zel approaches the table. She takes one gander at the spread, grabs a fistful of anchovies, and shoves it down her mouth without care. 

“You,” Gale stammers. “That was for–” 

“Silence. Githyanki must feed well to prepare for the new day. I will not hear your incoherent mumbling, wizard.” Lae’zel at least has the decency to chew with her mouth closed. She gulps the food, grips her fingers around Gale’s mug of watered down wine, and downs it with a tilt of her head. 

Astarion pouts. “We were having a moment, dearest Lae’zel. Now, I love to tease Gale as much as you, but it is my turn to press on Gale’s pretty little nerves until he explodes. He does not need to be,” he flares a hand out to Lae’zel, who is still downing the disgusting concoction with impressive concentration, “hounded.”

Gale looks confused. Astarion thinks that is not a state he often experiences. “Thank you?” 

And now he’s grateful? Astarion regrets his string of words in the last five seconds. They should go back to fighting.

Lae’zel slams the mug down on the table, perishing the rest of Astarion’s train of thought. She wipes the drink from her lips with her arm, thinks for a second, then nods, resilience plain in her expression. “I must warn you: distractions outside of our goal will be our end. I will not fail to cut either of you down if you produce disappointing results. However.”

There’s a ‘however’? Gale and Astarion exchange a glance, the animosity between them gone, replaced with more confusion. “I think you may be misunderstanding,” Gale begins. “Astarion and I-” 

“You two are lovers,” Lae’zel says with the confidence of a thousand burning suns. Astarion has never wished for that to be more true. He wants to be eviscerated where he sits right now because he cannot pick up his jaw from the ground. 

Gale looks like he just swallowed a rat. Like he is seconds away from throwing up. He needs a moment, experiencing vicious whiplash from wanting to kill Astarion to now, wanting to kill Lae’zel. “You— huh.”

“I support this companionship,” nods the githyanki sagely. 

“You are a bloody fool.” 

“No. I am efficient. Two of my enemies have been wiped off the playing field, which means there is less competition.” Hands on her hips, Lae’zel looks at the campgrounds proudly. “Make love to each other loudly.” She jerks her head over her shoulder, a sneer twisting her sharp features as she looks at them. “Try to drown out my name from Tav’s lips tonight, for I will be taking their hand and heart.” 

No fucking way. An oversight on his part. How could he have been so blind? Of course Tav is desired, not just by him or Gale, but by everyone else in the damn camp! This is much more troublesome than he realized. Fine, then. He should prioritize the rational thinkers like Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart and– oh, Karlach. Not darling Karlach. She would never turn Tav against him, would he? 

Fine. Halsin and Lae’zel can go first. 

“Momentary truce?” Gale offers. 

“You read my mind, handsome. Lae’zel, darling! Come back over here - we just want to talk.” 

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates

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

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

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

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

•••

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

Astarions POV

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 2 here

[htchnr]

★ mug after mug ❥ ASTARION.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon. ➻❥ kinktober masterlist.

🎃 KINKTOBER PROMPT ➥ outdoor sex.

CW ➥ smut insinuation ⋆ SORRY for no actual smut on day 1 😭 ⋆ but i think the fic works like this just fine ⋆ making out ⋆ mention of blood ⋆ cleaning a sword ⋆ alcohol consumption ⋆ Astarion has full armor on ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

WC ➥ 1K. SONG ➥ Bad Decisions, Girlhood.

SUMMARY ➥ it's no secret the two of you have been pining for each other. so after a tough battle, and a tough night of admiring Astarion from afar, you both give in.

★ - © 2023 HTCHNR. do not copy, share or translate my work to this platform, or any other! - ★

it shouldn't be fair really — for him to look that good while covered in blood and grime. the way his brows furrow in concentration as he cleans the blood off his sword by the lake. his hands expertly handling the blade. what you wouldn't do to have his hands all over you —

"think any louder and i might actually hear it," Astarion chuckles, not looking up from his blade. maybe it's the wine talking — you had at least two bottles of whatever you managed to yank off Halsin, and you knew Astarion has had his fair share as well.

he wipes the cloth across the sword, cleaning the last drops of blood off. he sets the blade down, standing up as he works at taking his chest plate off. "are you going to stand there, or are you going to join me?" he asks, turning his back to you as he pulls the heavy piece of armor off and sets it by his sword.

you head towards him, slowly, step by step until you've reached the dock. you take a deep breath as you can tell from the corner of your eye that all his armor is off, all that he has left is his tunic and trousers. fuck it, why not? you ask yourself, shaking your head as your hands move to take off your own armor as well.

he chuckles from behind you, "that's it darling." you don't have to look at him to know he's grinning, eyes probably dragging across your form as you drop piece by piece of your armor.

you take a deep breath as you loosen the strings of your tunic, it felt heavenly to be rid of your armor. you exhale, sitting down on the dock. you shiver as your feet dip into the water, gods that feels good.

you close your eyes, leaning back on your hands. a peaceful night like this is definitely what you needed after the ridiculously long journey that was behind you. the cooling effect from the water, the swirling thoughts from the wine — you almost didn't realise Astarion was sitting himself down directly in front of you, and before you know it he's lifting you into his lap.

your eyes flutter open, instantly sitting up so your hands could make their way to his shoulders — his own arms holding your hips. maybe you had too much wine, but you found yourself speechless — the way his eyes shimmered in the moon light, the way his soft yet rough hands felt against your waist — you almost forgot how to breathe.

not to mention the euphoric feeling of your core settled so perfectly above his aching erection. gods you were getting more soaked than a river..

Astarion leans in a little, those fingers you fantasise about coming up to brush some hair behind your ear. "are you going to kiss me, or do i have to find someone else for tonight?" his voice low and teasing – a gentle twinge of impatience laced in.

the thought of him with anyone else tonight? you didn't have to be asked twice.

a pleased sound leaves his lips as yours mold themselves to his, his hands coming up to cup your face as you kiss him. gods above, his lips were even softer than they looked.

your hands trail from his shoulders to his neck, a soft moan coming from you as you lay back, pulling him above you as he deepens the kiss. you barely felt the slight ache in your back when it hits the dock, with the way his lips were devouring yours, you couldn't focus on anything else.

you gently tug on the hair at the nape pf his neck, his lips parting from yours with a pleasured gasp. your lips twitch at the sight of his slightly pleasure furrowed brows — and to test the waters, you tug again, eyes closely watching the way his eyes flutter shut as you pull his lips back down by his hair. noted, you think to yourself.

you aren't the only tease tonight, a surprised moan leaving your lips as Astarion nudges one of his knees between your thighs, putting pressure just where you need it most. he grins into the kiss, as if he just scored a point.

"been wanting this for a while," you manage to get out between his lips. he teasingly bites down on your lower lip.

"what were you waiting for?" he asks, and you can tell from the tone in his voice that he's been waiting for this. he tugs your tunic over your head, tossing it aside with your armor. he tugs his own tunic off as well, throwing it off to the side.

you nip his lower lip, pulling back to look at him — and you find yourself drowning in his gorgeous red eyes. "honestly i have no damn idea," you whisper, one hand travelling his soft, naked waist — the other pulling his lips back against yours with a tug of his hair..

🎃TAGLIST — @toastbrot8410 @mrs-ssa-hotch @fictionallifestuff @weirdothatwritess @crystalflwr @stella95827 @taintedstranger @mija-novella @gffesegjoiegj @bubbly-parker @mediocremalachor15 @goldenangelwingsandcandy @0nex-is-dead0 @2hiigh2cry @the-1n0nly @hotchsdharma @tgskitten @crystlroses @notforeverlong @emmeilyy @whatisthereality

[sfehvn]

sacrifices

Request: "if requests are still open (if not pls ignore) i’ve been obsessed with the idea of astarion being confronted with what tav becomes if he ascends. i picture the gang with raphael, astarion is determined to undergo the ritual, and raphael snaps his fingers to morph their strong leader into a frail, broken version of themselves. afraid of him. can he live with what his decision does to the person he loves, does that knowledge change his mind? could be something completely different tho, i’d love to hear your take on it!" A/N: I took some creative liberties because I'm still mid-Act 3, but I hope it's up to par nonetheless. I also think I totally misinterpreted the prompt now that I'm re-reading it after finishing this. I'm kinda not very brainy. (sparkle sparkle) I hope you enjoy anyways! lol Word count: 2,426 Characters: Astarion x Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  It was as if every fibre of your being had been desecrated from its vessel within an instance. You suddenly felt the scrutiny of every eye in the room upon you; you felt naked. The strength that had bumbled in every nerve of your body had been silenced. The gravity of the situation you were in towered on slouched shoulders and you gasped at the overwhelming perception. Every position you’d been in since aboard the nautiloid ship assaulted your mind. You hadn’t died, yet the trauma that you could have knocked the air from your lungs. A veil had been lifted from your desensitized mind. You weren’t even through the thick of it, the squirming parasite behind your eye being a palpable reminder. You stared wide-eyed at the group before you, taking note of the uneasy way Shadowheart looked from you to Astarion. You tried to choke out something, anything, but instead, a terrified whimper left your lips.

  The imbalance of authority was instantly discernable. Formerly the most capable of them all reduced to a powerless husk. Astarion stares at you warily, stepping closer only for you to cower backward, all but tripping over your own feet. “Please.” You pleaded against your better judgment. You were attentive to the knowledge he would never hurt you, but there was something profound in your brain telling you to run. He was a predator and you his prey. Perhaps the security of knowing you could always defend yourself if it came down to that was always there. Without the power, without those means, you indeed were afraid.

  Realization washes over Astarion’s face as he looks at you. The tension in the room was so impenetrable that Shadowheart spoke up hesitantly. “Give her some space.” No matter how sympathetic her words are, when she touches Astarion’s arm to give him a gentle tug back, he rips his extremity from her grasp. “Astarion.” She says firmly, looking at you with sad eyes. It was unspoken; if this was what you were to be, you’d never make it.

  “Fix her, devil.” He sneers, disregarding Shadowheart to the best of his ability. Raphael chortles, a playful glint in his eye. This was all a game to him.

  “So sad, wouldn’t you agree?” Raphael muses apathetically, moving to fiddle with the ends of your hair. Your body tenses and you want to run, but you’re frozen in place by fear. “At the end of the day, we are ultimately what our bodies perceive us to be. As for Tav, it would seem she’s not the leader you lot took her for after all. A travesty really.” His eyes lock on Astarion, a giddy smile on his face at the vampire’s anger. It oozed off of him, feeding Raphael sadistic joy.

  “You will not touch her Raphael-” Before he knew what had happened, he was laid out across the floor by a flick of the devil’s hand. Despite the aching in his bones, he pushes himself back up onto his feet, ready to pounce once again. Raphael already has his hand raised, ready to knock Astarion back once again.

  This time it’s Karlach’s hand that grabs him, holding him firmly in place. “Astarion, this won’t solve anything.”

  “By the hells it won’t! So that’s it? You want to abandon her here? After all she’s done for all of us? You ungrateful bastards! She’s stuck her neck out for each one of us and you turn on her just like that? Pathetic.” Astarions spits, his body shaking from the rage bubbling within himself.

  “Of course not! We love her just as much as you, but charging nonsensically at a devil whom we cannot touch over and over again won’t fix it.” Karlach exclaims and, perhaps because it was the most emotionally driven of the group to speak up, Astarion’s body loosens in defeat. Karlach withdraws her hand cautiously.

  “As much entertainment as I’m getting from watching this debacle, I believe we’re done here for now. I trust you’ll discuss this with your little wizard friend and let him know the crown is mine and I expect to receive it as soon as it is in your possession. Upon payment, I’ll restore our precious Tav’s previous state of being. I’m glad we’re all on the same page.” Raphael sends the group off with a snap of his fingers. The spinning surroundings bring you to your knees and you squeeze your eyes shut in a failed attempt to block out the sensation. Once you open your eyes, the group is back in the rented room of Elfsong. 

  A combination of the intense whirring, of everyone’s eyes on you, of your power being ripped from your body; you wretch. Your body heaves as the nausea finally subsides, Astarion is by your side, rubbing circles over your back and holding your hair loosely in his hand. Karlach has already fetched a fresh bucket of water and a stack of rags to clean the mess. Halsin, Jaheira, Wyll, Lae’Zel, and Gale look on in confusion, and you note Shadowheart gathering them together. Her voice was whispered and you couldn’t make out what was being said, but you didn’t have to be a scholar to know she was filling them in on the events that had transpired. Even Mizora was amongst them as if she was one of the same.

  The sight makes you want to wretch again but you hold back, gently pushing Astarion’s hands away from you. Your heart aches at the hurt look on his face but you just couldn’t. The power imbalance was too significant for you to handle in the moment; around any of your comrades, to be fair. However, there was something about Astarion that terrified you now. You knew it was senseless, but it couldn't be helped. ��I need to be alone right now.” You manage from your raw throat. You did need to be alone; as alone as you possibly could be in the large room with nine other occupants.

  Karlach was one of the only people you allowed to stay with you as you lay in a daze on your bed. She was toweling a damp cloth over your forehead, chattering as usual. You recognized she was trying to act normal as if you hadn’t just had everything you’d ever known mangled from your very essence. You appreciated it. It was a far cry from the remainder of the party, now not bothering to hide what they were discussing as they tried to formulate next steps in the center of the room. You’d wished they wouldn’t, as selfish as it was. Though it seemed you were of some semblance of sound mind because you refrained from asking them to shut it down. They had to go on; with or without you. Astarion watched on in disgust from a corner of the room.

  Seeing you like this was destroying him, eating at his soul. He felt a fierce desire to protect you in this state, to keep you safe, yet you wouldn’t even let him near you. You were the only person who hadn’t treated him like something disposable in almost two centuries of existence. He feared that was gone. Would things get better? He yearned to hold you, to tell you everything would be okay. He hadn’t seen fear in someone’s eyes even comparable to yours since he was still a mindless slave to Cazador. Knowing that you felt that way about him struck him viscerally. He felt greedy for thinking it, but even if you didn’t become the fearless Tav you once were, he’d hoped you would eventually gain that trust with him again. Whatever the outcome, he would do what needed to be done to protect you.

  “I’m sorry but suggesting we just hand over Karsus Crown to a literal devil is insane! Have you lost your senses?” Gale shouted with conviction, throwing his hands up wildly.

  “Gale. What choice do we have? Tav has been a friend and she’d do the same for any one of us. We know what must be done.” Halsin reasons calmly in an attempt to ease the distressed wizard.

  “Well, I would bloody hope not!” Gale snaps in astonishment. “This is ludicrous!”

  Mizora pipes up and there is an air of amusement in her statement, “The bumbling one is correct. Raphael promises peace to the Nine Hells, but it is only a matter of time before he takes on other conquests. If you’d prefer the hells turn over; by all means.”

  “Come on! The lot of you have forced me into agreeance with a fiend.” Gale mutters.

  “A battle he will surely lose. Circumstantially, there’s no way the crown is powerful enough to intercept our plane.” Shadowheart reasons. 

  “Shadowheart, I have a great amount of respect for you, my friend. But you’ve no idea what you're talking about.” Gale holds a hand up dramatically in her direction.

  “She has a point.” Wyll finally offers his own input. “If our plane of existence could be overturned with the simple possession of this crown, it would have been done already, wouldn’t it? And if Raphael only wants to restore order in the hells, why not?”

  “All it would take is the correct entity. Just because something has not been done, does not mean it will never be done.” Gale sighs and there is a brief bought of silence before he continues. “Listen, Tav means just as much to me. It would pain me not to have her fight alongside us again, but-”

“Careful Gale of Waterdeep.” Astarion jeers as he approaches the group. “It would be a pity if someone had to put you in your place, but I can’t say I wouldn’t enjoy it. At this point, I’d think it a service to the rest of us.” 

  “Gale is right.” You declare. The group had been so engaged in conversation that they had failed to notice your approach. “I admire the lengths you guys would go to restore my power and I cherish each and every last one of you.” You shoot a small smile of reassurance at Gale, indicating that you indeed meant him too. “That being said, I recognize the need for boundaries. If this is the end of my road, well, I take pride in knowing I had the opportunity to assist our victors to the finish line.” You attempt a laugh, but it just sounds sad. You clear your throat. “Raphael cannot come into possession of this crown. I hope you all can respect my wishes.”

  Astarion wants to shake you, to tell you how foolish you were being. Had you really lost all of your senses when Raphael had stripped you of your power? “You will die, Tav. Do you not understand that? Without the means to protect yourself, you will die!” His shouting caused you to flinch and he instantly regretted it. The group sat in a paralyzed silence as they watched you two, not daring to interrupt Astarion in this state. “I will not lose the first thing I’ve loved in over two hundred years.” Tears threatened his ruby-red eyes, and he fought them back, suddenly very aware of how vulnerable he’d made himself amongst the party.

  “I know, Star.” You finally choke out after a lull of silence. You look away from him quickly and Karlach ushers you back to your bed. Astarion looks around the group with narrowed eyes as they disband to make their way to their collective beds. Why wasn’t anyone arguing this? How could they be so comfortable sentencing you to your death?

  Astarion stared up at the ceiling of the inn that night, unable to slip into his meditative state. Instead, he tried to grasp at the idea of you simply not existing—the months you had spent together that had felt like the entirety of his life left to mean nothing. It was tragic, just like the rest of his life. Of course someone like him couldn’t have a simple, happy ending. Why wouldn’t the very thing that kept him going be destined for death?

  His eyes open at the sound of approaching footsteps and your distinctive scent welcomingly floods his senses. He looks over to see you approaching his bed timidly as if you were uncertain about the action. “I don't,” you paused, fumbling with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t think I can sleep without you, Star.” You two hadn’t spent a night in separate beds since he had confessed his true feelings for you. The admission made his heart swell with hope and he shifts wordlessly, making room for you on the small bed beside him. He holds open the blanket for you, and you climb in. 

  He hears your heart slowing to a calm pace. The emotions were too overwhelming for you to comprehend. You had a newfound fear of the vampire, but your body craved his. Not just sexually, but it longed to be near him. It was as if it needed him to function properly. Astarion felt it too. It was like a missing piece of himself had returned to him, even if this moment was fleeting; he would hold you for as long as you let him, and he would wait for you to return when you were ready.

  There was one thing he was sure of. If you met your demise, so would Astarion. The time of only seeking power and authority was over for him. If he could, he would lay in this bed with you until you both withered to nothing. He did not want to outlive you in any sense of the word. He made a silent vow always to protect and keep you alive along with him. It was implicitly clear what he would be doing. The ascension had to be done, if only so you could live to see this through. The power and glory not even a last thought in his decision. He’d do this for you—the many conversations the two of you shared about the ritual flitted through his mind. You’d always been so careful of his wants while expressing apprehension about him going through with it. You’d convinced him, too. He was set that it was not what he wanted. He had been blinded by the splendor of it all. Things were different now. You would no longer be able to keep yourself alive; but he could.

“I love you, Tav.” He whispers.

“I love you, too, Star. More than air.” You murmured into his chest.

[meowsgirldrawing]

AUNTIE LAE'ZEL IDEA I CAN'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD-

For sure I'm going to write this when I can but I need to say it before I loose my mind! GODS-

SO this is mainly pertaining to Astarion romance, mainly cause he's the only one I'm familiar with personality wise so far. And he's the only one who's kids I've made.

But imagine Auntie Laze'zel-

Post! Game, Tav and Astarion have two little dhampires.

While everyone else was welcoming to the little bat-pups in their own ways, Lae'zel was..standoff-ish at first.

Don't get her wrong, she's happy for her friends comrades, she's just unsure how to proceed with these little blood suckers.

If her relationship with both Tav and Astarion are in the high, she's seemingly more nervous than unwelcoming. Confused possibly.

She knows how to treat children, somewhat, but babies??

Little toddlers that can't do anything for themselves?

Yeah, no, she's going to wait until they can at least understand the difference between a cat and a dog- And Tav why are you pushing the non-hatchling into her arms??

She's frozen as she holds their daughter. Her white curls, the only thing she shares with her twin brother, soft and tangled in her hand that supports the head. Tav helps her adjust as Astarion chuckles teases on the side. She'd snap at him another time, she's too busy staring at the defenseless, weak creature in her arms.

Eyes blink open, tiny nose unlike hers scrunches and she's staring into wide, red eyes tinged with orange.

She braces, having seen enough of other's childen waking up and immediately screaming their dislike of whatever they see. Not that she values a child's opinion of her looks. She'd could care less, but her ears care alot.

It doesn't happen. Happy and curious cooes start, eyes crickling as the girl reaches up. Grasping at her braids. Gently tugging and feeling the warriors hair.

"She's your unfortunate copy, Tav." Theres weight on her arm and a tight hold accompanying it. Her tail. Just like how Tav always wraps their's around Astarion or people she's closest too, the baby wraps as much as her tiny tail will allow around....

No, she is not turning soft, hush your ridiculous lies, Astarion!

She continues with that sentence for years, even when found playing 'teecups and crowns' with Amarylis and watching over Axel's non-serious training. Who she even gets pulled into playing with the dog with or finding weird stones along the stream, nothing but trying to find gold that could only be burried in the earth. But she doesn't say a word to the young halfing about that, just grabs the collar of his shirt if he wanders too far off, a soft hissable warning falling from her lips.

She's not used to kids, it's clear to the parents. But she tries, because they show a side she's not used to. They won't have to fight for their freedom, or lives or anything of that sort. They'll be able to choose to fight. And if having a toy crown on her head that has the girl with an affectionate tail giggling and finally finding a stone that has the boy, his outrageous curls doxed in his first half shave, grinning and spouting praises you'd only hear from young ones, is the biggest proof of that, she's alright with it...mostly.

And if you think the protection stops there...HAHAHAHA- No.

One time Lae'zel was in charge of the kids who wanted to go to a nearby carnival. Astarion and Tav allowed it, seeing it as a nice opportunity for some alone time and bonding time for Lae'zel and her little warriors in tow.

And if you call Lae'zel nearly breaking a man's arm off as bonding time...sure.

An older man, possibly a hunter by the looks of how his eyes shifted and how he posed in his following of the three, dared reach for Axel who was too busy staring wide eyed at the golden clocks on one stand to notice his creeping.

Lucky for him, Auntie Lae'zel came in, hissing and glaring, hand on the always sharp dagger she has at her hip.

To others and the guards, it looked like an attempted kidnapping so the man was taken away as soon as Lae'zel got a few good hits in, possibly a few cuts.

'Great.' She grumbled in her mind as she watch the man be dragged off, spouts of vampire children going unheard by the guards who merely rolled their eyes and gritted out words of justice.

She turns, half expecting to see eyes wide in fear at her, only to find a small body slamming into her front. Axel, at the age of 9, goes sniffling into her tunic, clutching at her back with tight fists.

"Auntie Lae!" His sister's teary eyes meet her unsure ones, "Are you okay??" She frets, coming in close aswell.

She ignores the murmurs, the looks as the crowd around them disperses. Her thoughts still trying to come together.

She tsks, patting the girls head instead of answering and pulls Axel away form her, only to kneel infront of him. "Next time, watch your surroundings. Understand, pup?" A common nickname from her companions. It calms the boy down, his red eyes getting wiped as he nods and sniffs, "Y-Yes, ma'am..."

After wiping his face and giving him a somewhat awkward hug, one that has Ama giggling and Axel blinking, they continue on, enjoying the carnival to the best of their ability.

And it seems to work out well. As soon as Astarion and Tav arrive home, the twins running up to their open armed father as Tav approches a tired Lae'zel. They chuckle and -

"What?!" Astarion bawks.

They look over, seeing the twins glance at each other then back at Astarion.

"Can you teach us how to fight like Auntie Lae'zel?" Ama smiles like she's asking for a delicate flower, while Axel gives a wicked grin in comparison. "YEAH! She beat up a bad man at the carnival today!" He giggles, "I think his arm broke cause I heard a loud crack!"

Tav blinks. Lae'zel stares. Then smirks, "I take back my first statement, they are like him."

[javiersprincess]

𝐂𝐇. 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝚬: 𝐒𝐌𝚬𝐋𝐋

tags: wc - 2.9k, fem reader, cleric reader, reader worships lathander, features the battle against cazador, nudity, reader washes astarion after the hardest day of his life, gore and violence mentioned. finally a love confession !!let me know if i missed something !

synopsis: after the defeat of cazador, you are there to pick up the pieces and astarion finally learns how it is you smell so sweet.

taglist: @allright @ghostinvenus @ghostbeam @dottores @evergreenren let me know if you would like to be added !

taglist: it is with a heavy heart that this series comes to a close as this is the final addition to the five senses ! fear not i will still be writing for astarion and the rest of the baldur's gate when the opportunity presents itself! thank you all for your love and support for this series it has meant the world to me ! see you all on the other side of kinktober(jjk)!

Never had you been further away from Lanthander’s blessings than now, deep in the underground palace of Cazador Szarr. The brick, stone and marble all reeked of blood and decay. Echoing down each hall was the squeaks of rats, the scattering of their claws and the drips of water from the pipes. This is undeniably an ugly place - Astarion peeks at you from the corner of his eyes as you are all led to the great hall of where the ritual is to be held. A frown tugs at his features at the sight of your stiff posture and frightened eyes.

He would have never wanted you here, to bear witness to the ugliness of his past. Astarion thinks of you on the road - from the woods to the springs where you would pray to bless the day, you belong where the sun shines and the water runs clear.  His boot steps into a puddle of watered down sewage and remains of whichever poor sod was once there. The growl that pulls from his lips can’t be contained, and it bounces off the walls until the party stands in a room he remembers all too well.

It was where he was held down as runes were carved into his flesh, his screams so loud he wondered if he almost deafened himself that day.

Astarion can feel it, the all too familiar weight of his master’s presence, the thread in between his eyes that pluck with the command he has over him as he stands before a great hall as his fellow brothers and sisters pinned in the air. Each step feels heavy and with each breath he takes, the smell of this place digs him deeper into the “pathetic memories'’ of his past - his words not yours. Astarion feels something warm being pressed against his hand, red eyes digging down to see that it’s your hand. You, soft and warm, that the scent of the sun clings to even here, even in this place. You don’t go to touch him, in fact all you do is let the back of your knuckles graze against his and it’s enough.

Astarion is almost tempted to stop walking altogether, to tug you into an embrace as to bury his nose into your hair and let the smell of it erase all memory of this place. But it is not to be as the great Cazador Szarr is there all proud in his putridness. His eyes stay focused on Astarion - which he is thankful for, he doesn’t want your image to be tainted by the visage of the vampire master of Baldur’s Gate. His staff glitters in unnatural light, hair sleek and immaculately dressed, he addresses him and you and the rest of the party.

“Who stands before us? Is this truly our prodigal son?” Voice high and mocking,as it was then it is now, all it does is make Astarion scowl and lean forward in clear agitation.

“Do not slouch before me boy! Have you no respect for yourself?” A similar scowling look paints the vampire lord's face, his voice now rough with utter detestment at the sight of one of his seven creations. Astarion feels his lips being peeled back at the sound of his grating voice. It grinds and creeks, the snow-haired vampire thinks you’ve spoiled him by the soft way you speak to him that he can’t stand when he has to listen to others. Which is why his handsome face is scrunched into a venomous scowl as his master continues.

“Look at you, crawling back after abandoning your family. You should be begging for our forgiveness.”

You stay back, but he can see your hand twitch against the pummel of the legendary mace - The Blood of Lathander. When he says the word, Astarion knows you will give the vampire lord a punishment worse than death for the wrath of the sun is not to be trifled with. And it is with that assurance he scoffs at the words that ring through the hall.

“Forgiveness? You’ve never forgiven anything.” The words are cancerous in his tongue as he spits them out. “Every mistake, every slip was punished!” Memories too painful to speak are spoken into every syllable of the words that leave from his lips. Feeding off of rats. Trapped in a coffin.  The knife in his back and his screams echoing off these very walls. Retching up blood and dirt.

“I strove in perfection in all things - even those imperfect as you,” Cazador sneered. “A pity you amounted to so little despite my efforts.”

“No! No, fuck you and fuck everythig you’ve ever done to me.” Whatever Astarion wanted to say was caught off by you speaking in turn, your voice as soft as the wind in his hair when he first awoke to the sun warming his skin. Even in this desolate place you are a pillar of strength, a shining beacon so perfectly crafted by the Morninglord.

“We are here for justice. You will pay the ultimate price, by the Morning Lord’s blessing.” You speak, every word promising a radiant, golden death. The sneer of Cazador’s face only becomes more severe.

“I will not speak to cattle. This is between me and the boy.” Astarion hisses, tense at how Cazador dared to look at you, to speak to you and to call you such a thing. Fangs bared and eyes like slits, nothing could have filled the vampire you love with anger, bitter like bile as he rushed at his master. A swear on his lips, his fists raised, the fight began with the room doused in red light - the red of the Hells. From where Astarion was raised and pinned in the air the room was filled with the flames of Avernus but none did burn as bright as the radiance from your mace or from your blessed spells.

There was a bitter satisfaction to the victory of the battle, to being on his own two feet as he dragged Cazador out of the coffin and threw him to the blood covered marble. To see the creature of his nightmares squirm so pathetically, like a worm in the dirt, brought a smile to his face, one that fell when you pleaded with him not to take the power that so sweetly presented itself to him. Red eyes looked at you, truly looked at you and found that even like this, in this disgusting place he wants you. 

Astarion thinks of you, all of you.

The smiles, the jokes and the way you have trusted him all this time since you first met. You’ve always hoped for him, saw the best and gave him that in return. Never did you use him, never did you see him as an object - something to be used. How could he do to you what you were always warned he would do? No, he can’t bring himself to do it, to use the souls of his siblings and the unfortunate souls brought here by his hand. The radiance of your heart has touched him, changed him and molded him from a spawn to a man. Asatrion will not deny himself, indulge himself in the pleasure of ramming his knife into his master’s gut again and again but he does so in part of a greater plan. To become the man you’ve always believed him to be. Sooner than he could believe his master lies beneath him, covered in blood and his own organs cut to shreds to the point he could not recognise his liver from his stomach.

The weight of it all, of his decision brings him to his knees and among the stains of blood on his face the silver of his tears are like moonbeams on his pale face. Once again, for the final time his cries echo on the walls filled with tragedy, filled with rage, filled with grief. Your touch is a relief, a gentle reprieve from the shitshow of his life, the tough and smooth skin of your palm curving into his shoulder as your thumb rubs back and forth.

His gaze meets your eyes and finds the promise of a golden future, one burning anew if he just returns all that you feel for him. He uses the hand on his shoulder to help stand, to rise rather than fall into the deceptively sweetened path of power and to do what you have done all this time without faltering. 

To do the right thing.

The spawn are released, and his siblings off with a warning to live as they please but the consequences are their own now. Cazador’s staff is slick with blood in his palms, the metal cold now with the death of its master and Astarion wonders if his heart is the same now that the burning anger in his heart is quelled by the blood that decorates his hands. Your thumb has not stopped rubbing his shoulder, your palm cupping all that he is and staying there when he turns to his companions - all of them there with pride and understanding on their faces as they congratulate him on his newly taken freedom. Karlach is the most proud, he can see the embers dancing in her hair as she fights the urge to hug him to the point his bones creak and crack.

A smile is tugged at his lips, twitching before dying as the grief and the end come crashing down. Like always you tug him, leading him and the others into the light of the upper city, Astarion looks up at the stars with vague new found delight. Everything is clearer than it once was, now that the weight of the chains have been broken off, and replaced by the spare cloak you have in your pack that you wrap around him oh so gently with a tender smile. You all settle in an inn, and Astarion’s mind is half gone by the time he notices that the room is different - bigger, more ornate with a big washroom. When he asks you only to hum, looking back at him from the corner of your eye as you strip out from your armor.

“It’s been a hard day, I wanted to treat you to something special.” You say, voice soft as the night while you peel off the last leather piece that protects your form. He only blinks softly, confused and delicate in the night like a blushing maiden. Wide red eyes look at you with only confusion as you come closer, outstretching your hand with the gentleness of the dawn and just as warm too. He eyes the scar from across your palm, the one you got from touching the wrong type of plant in the Emerald Grove - a consequence of your terrible case of sticky fingers. The memory makes him smile and he nods, taking your hand and leaving the cloak behind on the bed. You lead him to the washroom and he gapes at the sight of such a huge bathtub. Not made of wood but of proper marble and plain, filled with pleasantly warm water and the scent of lavender wafting off the soapy water. Astarion turns to thank you and is only met with how you look at him, all soft with tenderness and worry lacing through the flecks of color in your iris.

“When did you do this?” His voice is soft, like this  is a dream and a wrong move will have him waking up in the cells of the Szarr palace again.

“When you were sitting in the room. I used runes to keep the water warm but you best get in. It won’t last for so long.” You say like it’s no trouble, like doing nice things are as easy as breathing for you but that’s what your nature has been the whole time. Astarion thinks of the time you two had embraced for the first time, how the goodness you see and act upon are not naivety but purposeful and intentful. This, this is a small gift in comparison to all that you have done for him, one that began with your blood and ended with lavender oil.

It almost makes him weep.

“I’ll be outside if you need me,  please don’t hesitate to call for me.” You say softly, holding his fingers in a relaxed grip, one that he could so easily break free of when he needs to, when he wants to. Astarion shudders a breath, eyes crinkled under the weight of your goodness; something you’ve been carrying for oh so long he can’t believe you are mortal and not a god of some sort. His fingers tighten to a hold so tight you can’t help but bite the inside of your cheek to stop from gasping out.

“No…please…please stay. I don’t want to be alone.” His voice is soft, filled with so much emotion you understand him completely with a single breath. You confirm that you won’t leave and ask him if he wants you to turn away while he undresses. 

Astarion nods and you listen, turning your back and Astarion traces the shades of your hair in the candlelight  when you move so fluidly. He is in the tub when you turn back, his scarred back to you as he sighs at the silken feeling of the water against his tired body. You ask if you may wash his hair to rid the snowy curls of the veil of blood that mars them and again he nods in confirmation. Your sleeves are tugged back, rolled at the elbow as you carefully sit outside the tub and scrub at his hair with an all too familiar scented bar of soap.

A sweet silence fills the room, only the burning of the wicks and the splashing of the water when it moves can be heard. It's nice, he thinks, letting his eyes shut as your fingers work tenderly into his scalp with all the care one would use when holding water cupped in between their palms. The suds of the soap are foamy and thick, out of curiosity he sniffs it and realizes when he recognizes the notes of the scent.

Lavender, sunlight and dawn’s dew.

“Did you realize it was my soap?” You ask, voice soft and teasing as you grin from behind him. 

You feel him nod and amidst the tragedy of the day there’s a smile tugging at his lips as he turns to look at you with the familiar mischievous shine of his eyes. When he speaks you catch a glint of his fangs, milky in the warm light of the candles and you smile as he speaks to you for the first time since returning from that awful palace.

“I hope you know this means you’ll be running out of the soap twice as fast.”

“I don’t mind that at all.” You hum back, face ever serene as you raise a smaller bucket to douse the warm water through his hair, carefully detangling the curls with your fingers as he turns again to look at you with wide, glittering eyes. There’s a smile on your lips, it grows softly as the setting sun when you reach to swipe at a particular cluster of stubborn suds that do not wish to depart from his alabaster skin. Not that you could blame them, your Astarion is beautiful through and through - you’d have to be dragged to the pits of the 9th Hell before you ever willingly left him.

“I like the idea of you wearing me on your skin all day, for me to embrace you at the end of it only to realize where it is my soap has gone.” You say looking at him so warmly Astarion wonders if he is to melt under your loving gaze. He can’t help but laugh at your words - pale features pinkening from his recent feeding as he lets your words wash over him like the tide on the banks of sand.

“You’ve certainly developed a tongue for sweetness haven’t you?” A weak comeback but it’s all he can think to say back when faced with all the sweetness of how you regard him.

“I’ve had the most impressive of teachers.” You say back, voiced filled with such tenderhearted fondness Astarion can feel warmth fill the points of his ears as he turns his back to you to try to hide how it is he smiles at your exchange. He sighs dramatically, his bones relaxing under the turmoil of the day as his neck bends to the curve of the bath, posture a little more free as if the weight of his choice finally has settled into the cracks Cazador caused.

“Alright enough of the flattery and poetry - I’m still not done with my bath.” Tucking a stray curl away from his brow you lean over to murmur a small “of course Astarion”, in that soft and spoiling tone that never fails to turn him pinker than he’s been in a decade or so. Before you grab either soap or water bucket you lean over to press a kiss, a mere chaste brush of your lips against the skin of his cheek that now smells of your soap; of you.

“I love you. You don’t need to say it back - but let it be known to you.” You say so softly that the bubbles of the soap don’t pop under the weight of your confession. His nose brushes against yours, full lashes wet and clinging to each other as he looks at you - you see the curtains plea back and you see him for what he is.

A man who loves you back, though he can’t utter the words just yet. That’s okay, your smile says - “I’ll just make a bigger batch of soap next time.”

[leighsartworks216]

I Come With Knives Pt3

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Class is over and I am finally back home so I can post this chapter here now lmao

Warnings: trauma, blood, blood drinking, violence, fear, self-destructive coping mechanism, emotional abuse, physical abuse (grabbing, pulling)

I can add more just lemme know what I missed <3

Word Count: 1,050

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

She haunts you again tonight. You could feel her hands running over your body, tugging your head to one side as she dug her teeth into the mark on your neck. You see her ruby red eyes, dark with desire for your blood, stare at you as she drinks, deeper and deeper until you can’t feel anything. Her smile, lips painted red with gore, as she coos you to unconsciousness.

You refuse another attempt at sleep. Your lids are heavy, your bones feel like jelly, but you can’t bear to go through this song and dance every night. You didn’t have her here to remove all rational thought and send you off into dreamlessness. And while it pleases you endlessly to be away, you wish for just one night where you don’t see her. The only time that’s happened so far was after Astarion came to you, begging for something more substantial to eat. His eyes, the same shade but somehow softer than hers, as he kissed your hand.

The moon and stars offered you no solace tonight. The moon was new - a shadow against the already-dark sky. The stars were covered by clouds. Laying still, on your back, made you restless. You could almost picture Kir Parthene crawling over you, straddling you between her legs.

Astarion finds you after his hunt, tending to the fire. It'd been close to cinders when he left, but now it burnt as though it'd never gone out. You threw dry twigs onto it and stoked it with a longer branch. He sat down next to you.

"If you keep staying up like this, dear, you won't be able to fight." His tone was teasing, but his eyes betrayed his concern. "Is it her again?"

You shudder and tighten yourself into a ball, protecting yourself from the dangers of the world. "I can't stop dreaming about her," you whisper. Your voice shakes; you're terrified of the hold she has over you. "She's always just... there. Lingering. Waiting."

The light flickers against you both. It's pleasantly warm. The shadows it throws only accentuate your exhaustion, deepening the circles forming under your eyes. Even Astarion doesn't look as tired as you.

The tadpole squirms behind your eye, swishing back and forth. You can feel Astarion's reaching out. "You don't want to see it."

"No," he agrees. "But I want to know." You look at him from the corner of your eye. His face is set. Serious. "Show me."

The tadpole doesn't stop wriggling as you think. You dig your fingers into your pants, searching for any way to ground yourself here, now, in this camp, surrounded by allies and friends. And you let him in.

He's immediately thrown into a memory - or perhaps something stitched together from your dreams. He sees through your eyes. He's terrified. His heart is racing against his ribcage, pounding so hard he's breathless.

The door slams open. A woman, tall and beautiful and vicious, marches in. "On the bed," she commands. It's almost a shout. He can't scramble fast enough. She grabs him by the hair and tosses him in the center.

But he doesn't make a sound. He knows, somehow, that screaming would only make it worse. Any sign of pain - she would tear you apart.

There is nothing erotic or sensual in the way she mounts you, grabbing your arm to pull your shoulder down as she rips your head to one side. He's suddenly aware of his nudity. He's on display, showing everyone just who he belongs to.

She digs her teeth into his throat, biting so hard and deep he fears she may rip out his jugular. She drinks deeply, messily. Blood drips steadily onto the bed. He can hear her gasping and sucking and- too much. It's too much.

His head spins, but he can't say anything. He can't feel his fingers, or his body. He can't feel anything. His eyes fight to stay open as he stares at the ceiling - an intricate painting of angels and devils lining the dome-shaped structure. And he's praying. He can feel it - thoughts just at the back of his mind, whispered a million times before, begging for anyone to save him. To spare his life. To live another day. Another hour.

Kir Parthene pulls away, drawing the blood on her chin to her lips with the swipe of a finger. She smiles. Wicked. Pleased. He wants to whimper and back away as she leans down, caressing his cheek and kissing his forehead, but he can't. He can't, because if he does, he'll be punished.

"My good pet," she purrs. "Sleep. Sleep, my precious little thing."

His head hurts as he's shot back to his own mind. He winces around the ache as he turns to you.

You're no longer shuddering. No longer gripping tightly to your pants. You stare into the fire with glazed over eyes. You're numb. Seeing it all again surpassed your fear and hollowed you out. Gutted you until you're nothing but a shell.

Regret and guilt sit uneasy in his chest. He reaches out slowly, delicately touching your arm.

And you gasp. Tears fall from your eyes in an instant, fear and the need to protect yourself turning to upset and sorrow. You shut your eyes tightly, hands rubbing roughly at the scar on your neck, like you'll remember you weren't bitten tonight. But you're going to scratch it open, and he's even more terrified of how you'll react if you do.

He grabs your wrists and hold your hands away. You fight against him, but not because you have to get away. You just need to feel that she's not there. "It's alright, love. You're alright. She's not here. She won't get you." He's not even worried about waking the others up - all he can focus on is you.

Slowly, your strength dies. You sob. It's ugly and broken, and more emotion than you'd ever let show around your master. He hushes you and lets go of your wrists to hold your shoulders. You cover your face. Your whole body shakes, wracked with each heaving breath.

"You're okay," he whispers again. He can hear shuffling as the others are awoken. He can't even begin to explain your pain to them. "You're safe. I promise."

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle

[brabblesblog]

Feeding

Part 8 of the Goodnight Moon series!

You come to see Astarion after he confesses his feelings. Slight angst, a lot of comfort and fluff.

Read on AO3.

Part 7

Part 9

Masterlist.

You quietly make your way to his tent, hoping your courage wouldn’t fail you. Hesitantly, you rap your knuckle against the wooden beam.

“Gods, it’s late, who-“

A burst of white hair pokes out of the tent and he stares at you, rather surprised. He didn’t come to see you tonight - he meant to, but after his confession he felt like coming over to feed felt a little too much, especially after he had just admitted to using you at the start. More importantly though, he felt unsure of how to navigate this new thing you two were.

You smile at him. “May I come in?” You’ve been in his tent before - to chat, or that night the tiefings had the party - but you still felt a wave of curiosity and nervousness.

“Um.” He blinks, and then nods. “Sure- I just- it’s a bit messy-“ He cuts off and quickly starts grabbing and tossing empty blood bottles into the corner. Shit. His hands fumbled clumsily and he almost dropped one.

He freezes as you take the bottle from him and put it down gently. “If this is too much trouble, I can just leave-“

“No!” He said it a little too desperately, and cringed at the sound of his own voice. “No, I- I do welcome it.” He slaps on his best smirk. “It was getting boring anyway,” he adds, knowing his attempt fell flat.

You chuckle and sit on his bedroll. You’ve never seen him this uncertain, this shy. He finishes cleaning up and moves to sit beside you, his hands fidgeting on the blankets. You’re both thinking of that conversation earlier today, and it was obvious Astarion hadn’t completely regained his usual bravado just yet.

“You didn’t come to me. I was worried,” you say carefully.

“Yes. I wasn’t hungry?” He sighs as he sees you raise your eyebrows. Not buying it.

“I didn’t… want to use you,” he says softly. And I don’t know how to do this, he adds in his head.

It almost feels as if you heard him. You scoot over, taking his hand in yours. The contact is wonderfully warm. You lay down and tap the bedroll, asking him to come lay with you. He does it, back facing you. He shudders as you wrap your arms around him and close your eyes.

He turns to face you, and you’re surprised to feel a kiss on your lips. It felt insistent, hard, and wrong.

“If this is what you wanted, all you had to do was say it-“ he purrs, his hand moving down to your waistband. Is this what you wanted? That he could do, even if he doesn’t really want to.

You quickly grab it, stopping it.

“No,” you say, firm. Your eyes are still closed. “I just want to hold you, Astarion, if that is alright.”

Relief floods him. He lifts his hand up and away from your hip. “Hold me? I- I don’t mind, but I don’t really know what that means,” he admits.

You move and take him into your arms, his head nestled against your chest. He was cold, and you shiver in response. Tugging the blankets up, you tuck both of you in. He is stiff in your arms, getting used to it, and you slowly feel him melt into you, his hands settling around you and his face nuzzling deeper.

He sighs gently, and your hand moves up to pick at his hair, a habit you’ve been doing since he started feeding on you.

“I don’t want… to use you,” he whispers softly. Hidden here, against your heart, he feels like he can find the courage to say the truth. “I’ve already done it for so long. I know I hurt you.”

You rub his back, tracing gentle circles on it. “I don’t really mind you feeding on me. I welcome it.”

“I know it hurts you when I do it.” He has always known, from the moment he saw you clench your fists that first day. “It… It pains me to see it every time,” he tries to say, but you shush him.

“It’s not the most comfortable feeling,” you nod, “but it is a pain I willingly take. Astarion,” you say a little firmly, and he peeks up at you nervously. “I am fine with the feeding - I promise. It’s… it’s the other thing that stings more.”

He gulps. You peek down at him and see his eyes water. “I know. I just didn’t know how not to be that. If you want, we can just forget this - this whole thing. It might be even better for you.”

His voice breaks at the end, and his eyes dart down, not wanting to see your face. This could be the last time he’d ever get to touch you. Your hand tilts his chin up gently.

“Hey. It’s okay,” you say softly. “I just need some time to get over it, but I will be alright. I think I’ve always known anyway, or at least suspected something.”

You gently press a kiss on the top of his head, and when you lean back to see his reaction his eyes are just impossibly soft and tender.

“But it does not change what I said. I care about you. I love you, as foolish as that is, and all I want is your happiness,” you finally say. This was what you’ve been hoping to tell him all along.

He chokes a bit. “I don’t know- I can’t say-“

“I know. You don’t have to do or say anything. You just need to be you.”

At that, the tears finally spill over. He sniffles against your chest, the relief and joy overwhelming him. For once, he felt safety and love. He clung harder, and you let him have his moment, just gently holding him.

Slowly, sleep takes you, and you press a gentle kiss on his forehead as you drift off. Snuffling, he looks up, watching you drift away and hearing your heartbeat slow. He kisses you on your chest, right over your heart.

He might not have fed tonight, but for the first time in his years of existence, his heart felt full.

[beepersteeper]

Mirror -- Astarion x Tav Fluff

“I thought that vampires couldn't see their reflection?” Tav asked walking up to astarions tent from the side.

“What?" He instinctively asked, startled before actually answering her question. “They can't, but I was hoping that our new friend might have reversed that too." He taps the hand mirror on his temple before throwing it to the ground angry. “I haven't seen this face since it's eyes turned red and it grew fangs. Just another thing I've lost." 

“I could be your mirror." Tav shrugs 

"Okay… “ he pauses his half smirk creeping onto his face "I'll humor you, what do you see?” 

"Gorgeous eyes, that crease when you actually smile.”

"go on… " he drawls playfully rolling his eyes egging her to play into his petty vanity.

“The way your hair curls just around your ears, I know you try so hard to make it look effortless, it works."

“Anything else?" He spins around playfully.

“A beautiful man who feels like he's not worth more than petty vanity." She smiles and shoves her hands in her pockets.

"ugh” he grunts "just tell me I'm beautiful and let's call it a day.” He sighs as he feels the edges of his mind tugged to Tav's as she trys to connect their tadpoles. He reluctantly obliges. The visions he saw caused his chest to tighten and sent him reeling.

He saw a handsome, pale elf. With perfectly placed silver wavy hair to look like he just woke up that way. Creases around his eyes from smiling and from his nose to his mouth for the same reason. He sees beautiful red eyes that shine as he looks from side to side and rolling his eyes. He sees soft lips curing into a smirk undoubtedly saying something snarky, with straight white teeth peaking out slightly. He sees himself smiling wide, laughing as an unheard joke, letting his fangs appear from his lips. They aren't as off-putting as he imagined. 

Astarion joking with shadowheart about the owlbear bringing something fresher for dinner.

Him lying in the bright sun, shirtless basking like a cat on a warm day. The light flushing his skin slightly and making his form look ethereal.

Astarion walks cockily up to countless locks spinning his favorite lockpick between his fingers, then unlocking the locks with ease before putting the pick back into his boot where he has a special pocket for the pick.

He watched himself teaching Tav how to lock pick. “You don't need to call me for every single lock you find." He said putting his hands over hers and guiding her through the motions “not that I mind being needed, but you're more than capable darling." The way the word darling sounds like a song shocks him. 

Astarion sat around the fire with the rest of camp carefully sewing closed holes in articles of clothing that weren't his own.

Astarion doing slight of hand magic for the tiefling children to distract them from the commotion of the adults packing for the long trip to baldur's gate. Making coins and rings appear and disappear. Him beaming watching the children check his hands and pockets for the missing baubles.

He saw himself sneaking to Gale's foot locker with a hat in one hand and a glowing ring in the other. Smiling thinking no one saw him sneak over to stash away a few magic items for Gale to have, so he might not feel the hunger he's felt. He chuckles because the tadpole connection has taught him he's not as  careful as he thought he was. Or that Tav is looking for him when he's unaware. 

Astarions face soured first when he was hugged tightly by Karlach and then softening into a sigh and smile, welcoming the warm touch. Even if it was short lived because it burned a little more than anticipated. 

“That's enough," he says, severing the connection. Shaking his head. “I get it you think I'm a wonderful darling." 

"Give me two more.” She says reaching out for his hand.

He takes her hand and reconnects their minds humoring her

He sees himself sitting up through the night in the dying fire light. Eying the dark horizon keeping watch to make sure his new friends can sleep safely through the night.

He feels anxiety threatening to tear his chest into shreds. Bile creeping up his throat and a ringing in his ears. He also feels tender circles being rubbed on a back that wasn't his own. The vision's eyes turn to the side to see himself sitting next to the body he's in. He was nodding and saying "you don't have to be strong all of the time. Nobody here expects you to be perfect. You are doing so well keeping all of us alive as much as it seems like we're not helping our own cause. If you asked anybody here who they trust the most in this camp they would all say you. You're allowed to feel like you're being asked to do too much, because you are. But you can do hard things.” 

The connection is lost and their eyes meet both burning with the threat of tears.

“Is that really how you see me?" He asks, grabbing one of her hands with both of his like he was holding onto the last shreds of hope he had. 

“Those are all the real you.” she urges “The you that you try your best to hide for some reason. You can be stubborn, and selfish and sometimes frankly impossible to understand but through all of the shit you've been through there is still a good, caring person. And that's what I see when I look at you.”

"a stubborn man.” He scoffs covering his surprise with sarcasm. 

"A person who feels like he needs to hide just how good he can be.” She pushes him back slightly "your secret is safe with me.” She winks "we wouldn't want everyone to know that you're more than just a pretty face. they might expect decency from you.”

"I can't have that.” He puts his hand over his chest feigning offense but smiling. “Thanks Tav." He adds sincerely. "It has been 200 years. First you give me your blood, I thought that was the best gift someone would give me…  but this. You've given me my face back. My identity.”

She smiles and shrugs "I told you I'd be your mirror. What shitty kind of mirror wouldn't let you see your own face.”

[lendeah]

A small prompt because I was feeling sad and inspired😞sorry if the writing is lazy, wrote it in a rush!

Prompt: "you make me feel so alone."

Tags: Angst, Ascended! Astarion, mentions of blood, Astarion x Fem!Tav

Words: 1.3k

I thought the illithid invasion would be the worse thing that I’d witness in my whole life. The scene unfolding in front of me, however, comes close by. Another scream of pain rips the air, bouncing off the walls of Cazador’s Throne Room, well, Astarion’s Throne Room. I close my eyes, trying to distance myself from this reality, as I have done so many times over the past few months. But the sound of blood splashing the marble floor is enough to make me sick.

The poor goblin had been caught stealing some relic from the Palace, when he was on cleaning duty. Obviously, Astarion hadn’t taken the news too well, and decided to make an example out of him.

The example? A hundred and twenty lashes on his back, one for each coin the relic was worth. All of this while Master Astarion watched from his throne, of course. He wasn’t one to get his hands dirty.

Astarion sits on his throne, observing the punishment from afar. His demeanor is cool and collected, but a strange air of madness and depravity emanates from him. His piercing gaze is full of anticipation, and a hint of sadism is visible on his face.

The goblin's scream is only interrupted by the harsh sound of the whip, the noise of flesh hitting flesh. After what seems like an eternity, the punishment ends, and I exhale a shaky breath, finally daring to reopen my eyes. The goblin lies unconscious on the floor, and for a moment I wonder if he is dead, before I hear him wail. His back is bleeding, the skin cut open and bruised all over. Astarion seems pleased with himself, chuckling and clapping his hands.

"Amazing show! I loved it! We should repeat sometime” He exclaims. Then, he looks at me, a sadistic glint in his eyes. "What did you think of my little show?"

I make my face a facade of indifference.

“It was beautiful, my king” I lie, knowing to tread my words carefully around him.

"Oh, I know you love that..." His eyes travel all over my body, before stopping at my face. "But perhaps we could put on quite a show ourselves later in our chambers, yes? I have some special plans for my lovely pet."

A shiver runs through my back at the thought of his hands on me, but I plaster an smile and nod silently. He smirks and tugs at my leash, making me sit in his lap, as he runs his fingers through my hair.

"Ah, my lovely pet... So beautiful and obedient. Isn't my little spawn the most amazing thing I could've found?"

I feel nauseous, as I always do when I’m with him nowadays. At first I thought I could be happy as long as he was happy, but soon I discovered he wasn’t the man I loved anymore. The man I once loved has been replaced by this cruel and sadistic red eyed thing.

"Oh, you don't appear very happy," Astarion notices, but he doesn't seem to care. "Your face isn't as beautiful as before... You no longer smile as you used to... Is there something bothering you?" His hands caress the side of your forehead, brushing off a few stray strands of hair. “Perhaps I can alleviate your worries? My little pet has to be happy with me, after all."

A stray tear rolls down my cheek, but I do my best to smile and pretend to be happy.

“Of course I’m happy, master. I will always be happy with you”

"That's my good girl," Astarion seems pleased with you, not noticing the fake cheer. "Now, let's go to our chambers. I've plenty of things in mind for my dear little pet."

The body on the floor has already been lifted by the time we get out of the throne, making in to the master bedroom in no time. My breath grows shaky as I enter the bedroom, my heartbeat quickens, and my lips are dry as Astarion closes the door behind me. I can feel my legs heavy and weak beneath me, and I just want to run away as fast as I can.

The room looks almost unchanged from how it used to be when we first came here, but all the memories I have with him now have a darker undertone. After he has his way with my body, and we lay tangled in bed I silently weep on my pillow, and for the last time, I let myself get vulnerable with him.

“What happened to you?” I choke, almost a whisper.

He stirs next to me, not expecting my outburst.

"What happened to me?” He huffs “My whole life I've been the slave of some powerful Vampire master who wanted to use me for his amusement, I finally manage to free myself and rule over this kingdom... And I get this weakling, asking dumb questions? What makes you think you have the right to ask such things?"

I look at the ceiling. At this point, I’m not even hurt by his words. Not even annoyed. I just feel apathetic. However, I let myself try for the last time.

“You make me feel so alone” I whisper.

He scoffs at my words

“Oh? Alone? But you have me! That’s all you wanted, right? For me to love you." He asks, seemingly amused by my reaction.

Another tear falls down my cheek, and I laugh dryly.

“I have never felt more alone than how I feel now with you”

Astarion chuckles darkly.

"You're such a pitiful creature. All you do is whine and cry. You never make sense. You're nothing but a fool. I gave you everything you ever wanted. All the power and glory you could wish for. This beautiful body, my undivided attention. And yet, you're the one who's feeling alone?"

His voice grows harsher, and his eyes are cold as ice when he looks at me.

I turn my head to finally face him, “There is nothing of the warm, funny and caring man that I loved. Instead, I am in a golden cage trapped with a cruel, ruthless man who pretends to love me so I won’t leave his side” I take a shaky breath “So yes, I am alone”

"You dare talk to me like that?" His voice is sharp as a knife, and his eyes blaze. “You're lucky I still keep you around. I had half a mind to make you one of my spawn, but you seem too stupid to be worthy of such an honor."

And at that point, I finally realize, that the old Astarion won’t ever come back. He is dead, right next to Cazador’s severed body. And I will never forgive myself for letting him go through with the ritual.

But I can’t spend one more second inside this haunted place.

With the last of my strength, I plaster a fake smile and tell him “I’m sorry, Master, you are right. Forgive my manners, the goblin scene from before left me a bit shaken”

"I forgive you, my pet... You were just too naive, that's all. I had to bring you back to your senses."

He leans over to kiss my forehead, and I suppress a shudder. We spend the night like that, in each other’s embrace, but I lay awake the whole time, watching the time go by.

By morning, when Astarion returns from his usual hunting routine, the Vampire Court Consort is nowhere to be seen. Nobody seems to have seen her leave the palace, nor escape through a window.

Rumors say, the woman escaped through a portal with a certain wizard. Others add that a light cleric, claiming to share her knowledge, snuck her out with an invisibility spell. The only sure thing is that, for the rest of his life, the Vampire King will search all around the world for his property, knowing she was the first and last woman he loved.

[thecampjuicebox]

To have and to hold Pt. 2

Pairing: Tav(f) x Gale x Astarion

POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: angst, arguing, fluff, mutual pining, very brief mentions of sex, confessions of love, potential throuple, game spoilers

"Well, this should be fun to explain to Gale.."

His words sting your ears like acid and you tug away from him, eyes wide. His tired gaze meets yours, confused but not surprised by your sudden state of panic.

"W-What did you say?"

Astarion sighs and smooths your dark hair back, keeping his hand against the back of your neck. Your entire world just came crashing down, right in your forbidden lover's arms and he has the audacity to be so incredibly calm. He collects his thoughts, carefully lifting you from his lap and setting you down on the open space of the love seat, your legs protectively coming up to brace your chest. You wrap your arms around them, closing yourself off to the world.

"It is a shame I had to hear about the two of you from Baelen.."

A look of hurt rushes over Astarion's face as he shoots eyes like daggers in your direction. His sudden change of demeanor catches you incredibly off guard. You press your forehead to your knees and expel any air left in your lungs. There it was. He knew the entire time. You carefully lower your legs and place your feet flat on the wood floor, pushing yourself off of the loveseat to a standing position. You scoop your cloak up off of the floor and carefully wrap it around your shoulders, trembling fingers working at the tie to secure it to your body.

"How long have you know, Astarion? Why did you let me.. Why did we.."

Your stone expression begins to break as Astarion steps over to you, shooing your hands away from the ties so he can help you, your frustration and nervousness evident. You shove his hands away angrily, your eyebrows knitting together and you scowl. He takes a step back, raising his hands in surrender at your out-of-character shove. You fumble once more with the ties, tears burning like spitfire in your tear ducts, your bottom lip quivering in a pathetic display. Astarion tuts, grabbing your elbow and swiftly tugging your trembling frame towards his, gingerly wrapping his arms around you. You crumble in his grasp, soft sobs becoming louder, more heart wrenching ones. The vampire holds onto you, coaxing you through your sudden and unbearable wave of emotions, his right hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. You bury your face into his ruffle laden shirt, tears staining the silk material.

"You're unhappy with him, aren't you."

This wasn't a question, more of an observation on Astarion's part. Anyone who has even a lick of common sense could see it. You're unhappy with the life you've set up for yourself, or really, that you've had set up for you. The role of a wife to someone with such intellect and power. Spending days lounging on the couch or cleaning the tower while he locks himself away in the library, reading. Always reading. A life you don't see yourself cut out for. Not with Gale, anyway. Something hasn't felt right since the Crown of Karsus plummeted into the Chionthar. Gale has been obsessed with finding it. Learning about it. Absorbing as much knowledge as he can possibly find on the subject. Most nights spent in his library, tome stacked on top of tome, scrolls scattered about the tower, scribbled on incoherently. You've been starting to think he cares about that stupid crown more than he cares for you. Your happiness. He often babbles about "Mystra's forgiveness" and it always makes your stomach churn. You hate her. Hate what she's done to Gale, your sweet wizard. You whimper quietly into Asarion's chest and he shakes his head, placing his hands on the sides of your arms and he tugs your body away from him, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

"Why haven't you left him, Tav? What are you holding on to?"

Rage bubbles up in your throat and you grasp his wrists, throwing his hands away from you with force. Your face burns hotter than Avernus. How could he not understand why you came here? Why you traveled so far just to see him, leaving the safety of your home in Baldur's Gate. You've risked everything coming here. Does he not see that? He's known where you've been the entire time. Questions pound in your head, a migraine like pain forcing your eyes closed. You grit your teeth and ball your hands into fists, emotions taking over your words.

"There is.. So much you don't know, Astarion. So much you haven't seen. You rot down here, afraid. HIDING. I sought you out, did I not? I came to YOU! I found YOU! I'm crying to YOU! Gale doesn't know where I am. Who I'm with. He thinks I'm picking nobelstock, the gods damned fool."

Your voice bites like venom. Hot and sour, words pricking Astarion's ears like thorns. Your arms wave around in the air with frustration. He hisses, shaking his head quickly. Your tone holds strong, words getting louder and louder until they're a thunderous yell. His eyes widen at your volume and he takes another step back, his expression turning to a submissive gaze of fear. It's been so long since he's been yelled at like this, visions of Cazador's poisonous words making his stomach turn. The frightened child within him cowers at your words, hands clasping at the fabric of his leathers. Tears well up in the corners of his crimson eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth now. You pause in your tirade when you notice him backing away further, your heart sinking into your boots. You reach out, painfully aware of what you've just done. You've broken him. The hard exterior Astarion regularly puts on display has disintegrated, leaving behind a trembling child. You reach out to him, fingers shaking. He takes another step back, shaking his head, refusing to even glance in your direction.

"Astarion.. I'm so sorry, I.."

He palms his eyes and chuckles to himself, back now pressed against the wall. He crosses his arms over his chest, left leg crossing over the right and he taps his foot against the dusty wood floor. He shakes his head once more, silver hair falling to obscure his puffy red eyes.

"You're the gods damned fool, Tav. You really have no idea.."

"I beg your pardon?"

He leans forward, looking towards you now, arms stretching out to his sides and he makes a sweeping motion about the room, eyebrows furrowing angrily.

"Do you honestly think.. That I want to live.. HERE? ALONE? Gods, I've ached to have you by my side ever since I met you. And I almost had you too. I almost had you, gods damn it. I almost fucking had you!"

His tone startles you. You've never seen him so angry. Not even when he finally got his hands on Cazador. You watched him drive a dagger into that wretch's chest more times than you can count, and even that was mild compared to this. He's seething now, pupils blown wide, eyes almost glowing in the dim candle light. His hands snake into his hair on either side of his head, gripping the locks tightly. Astarion begins to pace back and forth now, fidgeting with his own fingers, his tone softening, but holding the same amount of venom.

"And to think.. I could be the one.. Bedding you every night. Sitting by the fire with you. Brushing your hair, helping you bathe, making you dinner, dressing you.. But now he, HE gets that pleasure. While I sit here and, what did you call it, ROT? While I, how did you phrase it, HIDE? Like I wanted this? Like I wanted to be stuck here, in the shadows again, listening to the other spawn cry and whine and complain! While the love of my life is adorned in the finest silks in Faerun, strutting about the streets with a half-wit Wizard that doesn't deserve to even breathe the same fucking AIR as her. He gets to sleep next to her every night. He gets to listen to her breathe. Hear her hum in the morning while she dresses.. That should've been me, Tav.."

His eyes meet yours, his slender index finger pointing at his own chest, tears flowing freely down his pale cheeks. You find it impossible to breathe now. Impossible to speak. You choke on the ever growing lump in your throat. You stare up at him blankly, unsure of what to do or say. Your brain fizzles, the fuse incredibly short. You're ready to simply implode. Drop dead right in that very spot. Astarion has never been vulnerable like this with you before, or really, with ANYONE. His throat goes hoarse, bottom lip trembling.

"I have suffered.. 200 years of shit.. PURE SHIT. I deserve something good for once. You were my something good."

He steps towards you, collapsing to his knees at your feet, slender arms trapping your legs in place and he sobs into your thighs. Your hands find his soft locks, gently petting the top and back of his head as he cries. Your heart pounds in your chest, potentially loud enough for Astarion to hear it, lungs begging for air.

"Astarion please.."

Your voice wavers and tears begin to stream down your own cheeks, seeing Astarion in such a state shattering your heart into a million pieces. He whines quietly, keeping his strong grasp on your legs and you reach down to pry his arms away from you, doing everything in your power to get him to even LOOK at you. A sob of your own escapes your lungs. "P-Please..", you whimper. His grip tightens and your nearly lose your balance from the constricting grasp on your calves.

"Please.. Don't leave me.."

"I'm here, Little Star.. I'm here."

Your words soothe him enough that he slides back on his knees, allowing you to move freely now. You kneel down in front of him, on your knees now. He shifts his gaze uncomfortably to you, eyes swollen and pink, lashes dusted with droplets of tears. He still looks so beautiful like this. So gentle. You lean forward and pepper his sweaty face with little kisses, forcing him to sit on his bottom and you climb up into his lap, sitting so your side rests against his chest. He doesn't hesitate to tangle his arms and legs around you, holding you captive in that space. You reach up, cupping his cold cheeks with your warm hands, a sigh leaving his lips at the sudden warmth of your touch. Your thumbs move underneath his eyes, swiping at the tear stains there. He manages the softest, sweetest smile he can muster and you shake your head slowly, silently letting him know he doesn't need to put on a face. You've got him. He's safe. He crumbles once more at the quiet reassurance, waves of tears and sniffles breaking the cold air of his small living space. You nod to him, encouraging this release. Astarion doesn't cry often, he makes it a point not to. That shows weakness, something he hasn't wanted anyone to know he possesses. So much weakness. So much fear. The fear of loneliness eats him alive regularly, brings him back to his years of being locked away by Cazador. No sounds, no light, only dark. Only silence. Loneliness. He clings to you tightly, nuzzling his face into your hair, taking in your scent for what he assumes is the last time, at least for a long time. He doesn't want you to go, but what can he do? You're engaged to another. Wedding date rapidly approaching. So many preparations have been made. So much gold spent. Family and friends invited, surely some already beginning the trek as you speak.

After what feels like decades, he finally releases you and you both shuffle to your feet, smoothing your clothes after being crumpled in the same position for so long. The vampling gives you a somber look, motioning towards the door.

"I suppose you should take your leave, yes? I'm sure Gale is waiting for you."

Nodding slowly, you reach a hand out to him, gently caressing his arm. He shivers and leans into your touch, blinking at the floor.

"Come with me, Astarion.."

His eyes snap to yours, completely bewildered. Jaw hung wide open, he shakes his head in disbelief.

"Are you absolutely mad? Perhaps you don't remember the main reason I'm down here in the first place? You know? THE SUN?"

He gestures to his figure, scoffing at the foolish idea. Your words settle in the back of his head, though. Thoughts brewing between his pointy ears that maybe there COULD be a way he could come with you. Stay with you. Be with you. Gale would never approve, though. He scoffs, shaking the thought from his mind all together.

"Think about it.. For me?"

"You truly are mad.."

...

The winter air chills you to the bone. You clutch your cloak tightly around your shoulders, the night shrouded streets of Baldur's Gate unreasonably silent. Astarion follows close behind you, hood covering his silver locks and most of his face. Your eyes scan the surrounding area carefully as you move, footsteps quiet and calculated. A gust of wind whips your cloak out of your hands, sending it flying back, your skin exposed to the painful elements once more. Your teeth chatter in your skull. Spotting the small tower you call home, you point upwards, Astarion's eyes following the direction of your finger. He chews his lower lip and his eyes wander to you.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Tav? Gods forbid the man decides to finally blow himself up.."

You giggle and land a playful blow to Astarion's shoulder, the vampire yelping and rubbing the spot. He sneers.

"You know, if I could bruise, that would CERTAINLY bruise! You devil."

Your feet make quick work of the stone stairs, lanterns lighting as you pass by them. Gale is still awake. You fumble with the lock on the door, mumbling a quiet incantation and the lock clicks open with ease, a quiet sigh escaping you while you prepare yourself for the inevitably uncomfortable conversation to come. Astarion places a hand on your shoulder, spinning you to look at him.

"If you need me to speak first, I'm willing."

You chew your lip and nod, shining a sweet smile in the vampire's direction. Opening the front door, you quietly lead the two of you into the dark foyer, the faint glimmer of candlelight illuminating the top of the staircase. Gale is in his library. You close the door behind you both and carefully slide your cloak off of your shivering shoulders, instructing Astarion to do the same. He follows suit and holds the cloak out to you, grinning at the mere idea of you having to take his cloak for once. You roll your eyes and snatch the cloak from his hands, tossing the two frosty pieces of fabric onto the purple velvet bench located conveniently next to the front door. You mumble another incantation and the front door lock clicks once more, shutting you inside for the night.

"Gale, darling?"

You call up the stairs. No response. Strange. Maybe he's fallen asleep at his desk again. Tara mews from the top of the stairs, wings fluttering quietly. She makes her way down to you, sniffing up at Astarion before circling around both of his legs, marking him with her scent. He stands perfectly still, eyes flicking to you for guidance on just what the hells he should do right now. You giggle, leaning down to reward the tressym with a gentle pat on the head. She purrs, eyes falling closed for a moment before one snaps open to eye Astarion. He freezes once more.

"He's friendly, Tara. Pay him no mind."

She mews once more and saunters off into the kitchen. You sigh and kneel down to untie your boots, feet aching from the long walk through the Underdark, and even longer one through Baldur's Gate. Your blistered heels sting once they're exposed to air, making you hiss. Astarion watches closely, frowning to himself. Seeing you in pain makes his heart sink every single time. Wishing he could ease your pain, he instead opts to scoop you off of your feet, holding you closely to him bridal style. Your eyes widen and you look up at him, whispering quietly.

"You really think it's a good idea carrying me into my home bridal style while my FIANCE is upstairs?"

Astarion tuts and rolls his eyes, beginning his trek up the stairs, making sure not to hit your head off of the wall or your aching feet off of the railing. He follows the dim candlelight, occasionally adjusting his grip on your body, small yawns leaving you every now and then as sleep threatens to consume you in his arms. Stepping into the library, Astarion spots Gale, nose deep in the same dusty tome you left him with. He places you down carefully, the sound of your feet hitting the wood floor being enough to startle Gale and he looks up in your direction quickly, his gaze softening on you.

"My love, you're back! And you brought.. A guest."

Astarion steps into the light, raising a hand to politely and oh, so awkwardly wave at Gale. Gale raises an eyebrow, eyes flicking from you to Astarion and back again.

"What is this?"

"An opportunity, Wizard."

Astarion flashes a devilish smile at the perplexed Wizard. Gale presses on the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, groaning into the night air. You clasp your hands behind your back, rocking back and forth on the balls and heels of your still aching feet, trying to hold down a giggle as you watch the two interact. After all, it had been a couple of years since you've all been in the same room, you were very much interested in how this could go. Deciding to take a seat, you move to the small couch Gale had dragged into his library for you to lounge on while he does his reading, the familiar and comfortable cushions beckoning to your tired bones. You settle there with a sigh of relief. Tara trots back into the room, joining you on the couch. She snuggles comfortably into your lap and you run gentle fingers down here back, scratching the spot between her wings. She purrs, nuzzling into your abdomen before dozing off, little snores vibrating through her sleeping form. Astarion runs a hand through his silver curls, nervously chuckling out loud at the clearly irritated state of his former companion.

"Opportunity for?"

Gale's tone makes you stir uneasily in your seat, your gaze dropping to the floor then over to Astarion, who looks just as uncomfortable.

"I suppose I'll have to say this plainly, my dear Gale. Tav traveled to the Underdark to find me. She fed me, we kissed, my GODS she is an incredible kisser, by the way. I'm sure you're fully aware, considering. I confessed my love to her, we cried, we hugged, it was all very dramatic. Now we are here, back in your.. Hm, quaint little tower. With a proposal of our own, if you're willing to hear it, that is."

Astarion's confidence has always surprised you, but THIS is a new one. The vampling you're witnessing now is the Astarion you remember. Granted, it does make things significantly easier, the main meat of the story on the table. Everything else can be explained... Later. Gale's obvious irritation with the vampire's unexpected presence is evident in the way he looks at you, multiple emotions flashing through his dark eyes until he settles on one. Relief. You quirk an eyebrow at him as he approaches you and kneels in front of you on the couch, gently lifting Tara's sleeping body and moving her to a pillow placed on the floor just for her. She stirs before settling once more. Gale's hands grasp one of yours, a sincere look plastered on his face and he maintains eye contact as he brushes his lips against your pale knuckles. Your heart flutters, fast, like the wings of a dragonfly. Astarion's confidence wavers, a look of jealousy turning his eyebrows upwards. He shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest.

"So, what say you, Wizard? You're awfully quiet. Odd, seeing as you usually never shut up."

"Astarion."

You hiss and he looks away. Gale's eyebrows furrow and he chuckles quietly, standing and pulling you up with him. He takes both of your hands in his and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Gale?"

You search his eyes for some sort of answer. Anything.

"I have been thinking, Tav. There are some things in our relationship that I simply.. Cannot provide for you."

You nod slowly in understanding, fully expecting the worst. You brace yourself just in case. Astarion's ears perk up, the conversation taking a delicious turn that no one in the room could have expected. Gale strolls back to his desk, leaning against the edge of it, palms lying flat on the weathered wood and he drums his digits against the surface.

"I am often a terrible lover, I will admit. Entirely too enveloped in my studies. So many Tomes, so little time, as I always say. Anyways.."

You cross your arms over your chest, mimicking Astarion's posture now. The two of you exchange glances. Momentarily, it feels as if you had never gotten rid of the tadpoles, telepathically communicating, words and thoughts swapping back and forth between the two of you. You move your hands to your hips and shift your weight to one leg. Astarion leans toward the wizard and raises an eyebrow.

"Are you implying.. You'd like to add someone to say, fill in the gaps?"

"Precisely!"

Your jaw falls slack. You're surprised it hasn't come completely unhinged and fallen to the floor beneath you. The wizard chuckles at your expression, moving over to you again and he places a gentle hand underneath your chin, pressing your mouth closed. He pecks your bottom lip gently with his own and smooths your hair back.

"It's simple, really. I want Tav to be happy. And if you and I BOTH make her happy.. Well. I can compromise a space in my bed. That is, if you agree, Astarion."

Astarion clasps his hands together, almost clapping in excitement. Your cheeks burn a deep crimson as he moves to you and wraps his arm around your waist, fingers kneading at the squishy fat of your hip. You wiggle against him and he nudges your temple with his cold nose.

"You see, Tav. Much easier than we expected."

Gale nods and moves to your other side, repeating the movements of the vampire. You stare blankly ahead, unable to muster a coherent word or thought. Astarion gently nips the tip of your pointed ear, making you yelp and you bump your hip into his. You pull away from the two men, turning to face predominantly Gale.

"So the wedding.."

"Well I figure, we can still wed, if that is something you still want to do. We have made so many preparations already, it would be such a waste to cancel everything now. And Astarion.. Can be apart of it, or simply sit that part of the relationship out. His choice. No pressure."

Gale smooths his velvet sleep shirt down, propping his hands on his hips as he awaits an answer. Astarion raises an eyebrow, chuckling loudly.

"Me? A married man? Wizard, are you proposing to me? Rather anticlimactic, if you ask me. I expected much grander of you."

"Listen, vampire. I've already done this once."

You sigh and move your eyes to Astarion who is deep in thought, the idea clearly bouncing around in his pretty head. He paces around dramatically, definitely making a show of the entire situation before stopping in front of you and dropping onto one knee. He grasps your hand in his, eyes meeting yours and he musters up his most ridiculous, over rehearsed smolder.

"Tav, will you do me the honor.. Of telling Gale he needs to try harder if he wants me to be apart of this relationship and actually like him. He's making it incredibly difficult."

You groan and throw your head back. A loud laugh erupts from your belly and you nudge Astarion off of the floor with your knee, a quiet "oof" leaving the vampire.

"You know, Astarion. All it takes is for me to open the curtains come daybreak and it's over for you."