#last night i had a dream that Astarion had started going out every night to find the nastiest little corner of wahtever dungeon we were in

[squiddity3]

boyfrens

[thewritetofreespeech]

1000 Nights: Day 2 - The Morning After

WORDS: 2.1K

RATING: E

PAIRING: Gale x Tav (post game pairing)

SUMMARY: The morning after their wedding, Gale & Tav finally get the chance to bond as husband & wife do.

Ao3 * 1000 Series

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A pleasant dream gives way to a more pleasant reality as the sun lifted, and with it the citizens of Waterdeep.

Gale awoke rather easily to the sun's gentle prodding, while Tav did not. He was fine to let her sleep. She'd be up soon enough. He debated about getting up to make them breakfast, as breakfast in bed seemed the perfect way to start their new life as husband & wife, but he just laid there and watched her for a bit. Enamored that this was all his now and reflecting back to that morning in the Elfsong, just before he proposed.

“Good morning.” Tav greeted him. Sleepy, yawning, but with a dreamy sort of smile that would make Gale’s knees weak if he were standing on them.

“Good morning….my wife.” Every morning, Gale would wake and say, ‘Good morning my beloved’, or some variation of the endearment. Today, however, for the first time ever, he could say ‘my wife’. And oh, how he just knew he would never get tired of saying that.

Tav’s smile broadened and she leaned into him to give him a kiss. It was lazy, slow. Like the sunlight slowly dripping in through the window. Gale knew he could spend hours kissing her like this.

He slid closer to her on the bed and felt Tav gasp into his lips when she felt him brush against her hip. “I guess someone else is up too.”

Gale smirked at her teasing and lifted the sheets playfully. Of course, he knew it was there. But seeing Tav’s naked body against the white sheets made his manhood rise with more intention than just because the sun was up. “I suppose he is.”

“You know,” his full attention returned to Tav when she gave him that coy little coo, “I’m not technically your wife just yet. Not legally. Since we haven’t consummated our marriage.”

“Oh, is that so?” His hand reached for her under the sheets. Pulling her leg up and over his hip. “Well, I am nothing if not litigious, my love. Let us rectify that immediately.”

Tav giggled just before he pulled her in for another kiss. More earnest than before but not nearly as intense as Gale knew they were going to get. All his desire from last night after the wedding came flooding back to him. Along with this almost….primal urge to claim her. He knew she had been joking, but that quip about her not being his yet needled at a possessive streak in him that he didn’t know he had. Maybe because no one had ever been truly and wholeheartedly his before.

Continuing to lay claim to her lips, Gale rolled him and Tav over so he was on top of her. Aroused at the feeling of his weight eclipsing over her; forearms and knees be damned. Her hands slid up from his sides up to his hair. Weaving into his long tresses. Holding there like a fish caught in a net. Gale moaned as he felt them against his scalp. A slight pulling here & there that was unintentional but, honestly, he wouldn’t mind if it was intentionally. He kissed her a bit longer; torn between wanting to just kiss her forever or move on to more pleasurable things. Sealing their lips with one final kiss, like the stamp of a seal on a roll of parchment, Gale moved down to kiss along Tav’s jawline and her beautiful neck. It was no wonder Astarion had gone for it that fateful night so many moons ago.

He kissed further down until he made it past her breastbone to her actual breasts. Tav arched slightly into his touch. Gale had mapped out this path for himself many times before now. They had not been chaste in their relationship before or after getting engaged, but the wizard seemed committed to learn everything anew. Take his time. Relearn all the spots, nooks, and crannies that made his beloved sing. Get to know his wife.

His tongue flecked out to brush against one already pebbled peak. Watching gooseflesh pucker up on the sensitive skin as her voice called out, “Gale” in the softest, sweetest sound he had ever heard. His left hand toyed with the other one before he switched sides and made room for his right. Gods, how did he ever get anything done around camp with these things just….around every night? How did he get anything done ever with this body parading around within his view? How had he waited so long before when now Gale couldn’t wait not 10 minutes before he had to be inside her?

He showed valiant restraint, however, in not just diving in like a sex crazed novice, and instead made his way further down to his favorite spot on her body. The cradle of life. Her jewel. Some…other manner of poetry about female anatomy. It was getting very hard to think of any with her scent and apex so close to him.

Gale pulled back from peppering kisses along her inner thigh to look at her. Outer lips glistening. Almost quivering with excitement & arousal for him. Her juices beading up like dew while its owner laid back with her eyes closed and hands twisted in the sheets, waiting for him. What manner of brute would he be to keep his lady waiting for him any longer.

With one long swipe, his tongue laved over her entrance. Tav bowing off the bed once he had reached her clit and used just the tip now to tease it. Gale never considered himself much of a musician, although he wished he was at times. He could play the notes, of course, but he couldn’t make music; hence why he let the piano play on its own. But with Tav he could pluck the sweetest sounds out of her. The music she made as he worked her open, his tongue lapping at her while his fingers slid inside to get her ready for what was to come, was better than any ballad he had ever heard prior.

“Oh Gods Gale! Don’t stop…” He had no intention of stopping. Only death could stop him, and honestly, he’s decided it would be a pretty spectacular way to go. Nestle into her cunt, surrounded by her scent, her body & legs quivering around him as she threatened to cum any moment. If Gale could choose how he died, this would be his preferred method; right after passing away peacefully in his sleep from very old age with a book and imported bottle of wine.

Soon enough Tav’s ‘threat’ became a reality and she came for him. A wordless cry and arch of her back. He continued to work her through the tremors. Drinking in her wetness. Not slipping his finger free until her inner walls stopped pulsing around him, and not pulling back until she had gone completely still under him.

Gale lifted up to admire his handiwork and was quite pleased (and aroused) to see the state of his wife. No, not his wife. Not yet anyway.

Gale shifted closer on his knees before lifting Tav’s hips and lining himself up with her sopping entrance. She reached for him as he pushed inside, still tight despite his workings on her, as they moaned together. Once fully inside, Gale just rested there for a moment. Partly for the simple, practical application of he needed to calm down; or their consummation would be over about as quickly as a blink. But also wanting to feel all of this around him and commit it to memory. They were one now. Officially. Husband and wife. Together forever. Gale thought he might weep for a moment, as he was a very emotional man, but there were more pressing matters than his tears.

“Gale…please…” Tav squirmed under him. Clearly not as satisfied to just hold his cock inside her but be properly sated by it.

Gale chuckled against her ear, then kissed it. “You never are patient are you….my wife.” Tav let out a long, loud moan at his comment. But perhaps that might have been because he slid his hips back and then thrust back into her. He liked to think it was both.

They made love like it was the first time. Only better now, because Gale didn’t feel so awkward touching her in this human body with human hands. No longer shy and seeking, but confident. Masterful, even, as Gale had made every effort since that first time to learn what she liked and put it into practice. He was an academic at heart.

Gale also made every effort to keep this going as long as possible, while Tav clamored at him with kisses and touches. “Ah…! Gale! I’m gonna cum again!”

“Not yet,” he usually doesn’t deny her anything, but he wanted them to cum together this time. Tav let out a depressed groan as he caught her lips in some version of a kiss. “…Not yet…”

Tav seemed to listen, for about two seconds at least. She then wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him closer. Gale let out his own groan as he knew that she knew what that did to him. Then she just went ahead and played downright dirty by pulling him down by his hair for another kiss, but pulling his hair in a way that sent a shiver down his spine and right to his balls. It was over very quickly after that.

They laid together in a tangle mass of limbs. Sated and satisfied. Kissing softly in just enjoyment of the moment and each other. Gale pulled back to look at his wife. Tucking back a lock of her hair to get a full view of her face. “Beautiful.”

Tav scoffed lightly at him. “You always say the sweetest things, Gale Dekarios.”

“Well, it’s easy to drip honey when one so sweet is beside you,” ooo…honey, that gave him some ideas, “Mrs. Dekarios.”

Tav’s face broke out in a grin. So sweet, so shy, so bashfully jovial that Gale had to kiss her. There was really no other option. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Anything you want.” Gale told her. “Although, this was my plan for the rest of the day.” Tav playfully pushed him a little, thinking he was joking. He could assure her, he was not; not entirely anyway. “We could stay here,” again, part of his plan, “or we could go see the city. Continue moving your things in.”

In the fuss of the wedding, they had almost completely neglected moving Tav’s things in. Though she didn’t have much at this point. Tragically, the hero of Baldur’s Gate was left without a home as it was destroyed by the invasion of the Elder Brain like so much of the city. Her integrity and steadfastness to save the city apparently did not extend to her own four walls. “It’s just a house” she told him. Then pack up what little they could salvage from the rubble and embers, before they left for Waterdeep. He sometimes wondered if that maybe had not been one of the reasons she accepted his proposal, both for marriage & to live in his hometown with him, so quickly. He certainly hoped it was for love.

Tav groaned dramatically and rolled away from him to lay flat on her back. “Chores? During our honeymoon?” Gale is not ashamed to admit that the smile on his face at the word ‘honeymoon’ was positively giddy. “I don’t think I want to go into town today and deal with….people. Staying here sounds tempting, but I’ll need to stretch my legs soon.” Gale held his tongue to keep back any lewd comments that came to mind about ‘stretching her legs’. He was a gentleman after all, though Tav made him feel things of a very ungentlemanly fashion. “I can’t decide. I don’t remember being this indecisive before.”

“It’s easy to be decisive when there are so few options in front of you.” Gale reasoned. “The burden of choices.”

A few seconds later, the decision was made for them as Tav’s stomach growled. Gale’s rumbling in tandem almost like a sympathetic yawn. “Why don’t we work on breakfast.” He said as he slid out of bed. “After that the day, and world, is our oyster.”

“Ooo, oysters….Ok, sounds like a plan….husband.”

Gale stopped. Like he had been struck by something. Then he pounced back into bed and back on his wife. Kissing her fiercely as she shrieked and giggled. He decided they could make plans for lunch instead.

[sammyboyimagines]

Cold Embrace

Astarion x Fem!Reader

//ahh! first time writing for BG3 since I started playing in September. So excited to write for all the characters! This takes place somewhere in ACT 2.

Summary: Astarion had a nasty habit of taking every moment to scrutinize your actions. But in a moment of forced closeness, you have no choice but to talk it out.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of Astarion's past, mean!Astarion.

Word Count: 3.7k

The darkness of the Shadowlands brought on a new wave of anxiety through you the deeper you got into the thick bristle surrounding its past. It reminded you of your home, the war-torn town ravaged by bombing, raiders of all races, and rapidly spreading fires that enveloped any hope of survival. Shortly after fleeing your home and heading to Baldur’s Gate, you had a nasty run-in with some mind flayers, and the adventure started there. The hidden shadows loomed over the party as you made your way to Last Light Inn, a shiver running down your spine.

The land itself was terrifying, but the fact that this dark realm reminded you of home was all the scarier. A runway from a young age, you found solace at Baldur’s Gate under the narrow alleyways and the occasional generous storefront owner who was nice enough to provide some currency or even some food to spare.

Every time the party left for another day of traversing through the harsh darkness, a pit of nausea sat at the bottom of your stomach like a pile of boulders, weighing you down. The faint smell of sulfur and ash filled the air, the flames of your torch providing the only medium of safety. And a flimsy medium of safety at that…

“Hey, soldier…Everything alright?” Karlach was, of course, the first to notice the change in your demeanor as she followed closely beside you. Her fiery hot temperature warmed your body as she stood beside you, notes of concern on her features. “You’re awfully quiet for someone so cheerful..” Karlach trailed off, a slight hesitation on her part.

It was true, you were generally the sunshine figure at camp, even when spirits were abysmally low. “I’m alright, it just brings back some bad memories, being here.” As much as Karlach’s comforting warmth beckoned you to dump all the information about your past right on her doorstep and walk away, you felt Karlach did not deserve to be burdened by your dark past coming back to haunt you.

“Well, either way, I’ll be sitting by the campfire later if you want to find me and talk about it, love.” Karlach pulled ahead, her hands swinging freely by her side. At times it seemed like nothing in all the planes could shake her, it was admirable. The journey through the Shadowlands was fraught with challenges, yet Karlach’s unwavering spirit and warmth brought light to the darkest of days.

You wished to feel the same way, dreaming that the overwhelming fear of losing it all would dissipate. The sunny days as you travel with your group to the Mountain Pass aided with your struggles. Long journeys ended with warm nights that felt like a comforting hug against your body on the bedroll. You watched the sky go dark and the warmth of the sun faded to a deep chill.

“Let’s change up the subject, shall we? What are you going to do about a certain someone at camp?” Karlach attempted a whisper, her voice only slightly lowered as she asked you.

The certain someone was a nuisance, a nagging pain that refused to scare off no matter how many times you threatened him midst frustrating battles after he made a snarky comment.

Astarion.

Each passing moment with the group only fueled hatred for the man—his penchant for feeding on your insecurities whenever they’d rear their head. One particular source of embarrassment in the recesses of your mind was the moment you came upon some cultists of the Absolute on the path from the Emerald Grove.

They had a sword to you, the sharp edge pressed tight against the small of your back. “Don’t you try anything, sweets. Tell me what I need to know and you’ll go free. Where is the godsdamned grove?” A low rumble of laughter shook the evil creature behind you. In that harrowing moment, you had two choices; give up the information or die.

Without a pause, you surrendered and gave half-truths. Anything that would send them down the wrong path with the confidence of ten men. Perhaps it was a survival instinct or a depressing act of cowardice. Emerging from the encounter, you felt the crushing weight of shame lingering over you. How could a leader surrender so easily?

The sad looks of pity from your party members weren’t the worst of it, no. It was Astarion’s biting taunts that sunk the deepest, an assault on your confidence.

“Are you going to be like this whenever we face anything other than a mere goblin?” His voice was laced with venom while he spoke. He shifted his weight onto one hip, eyebrows raised as he blatantly belittled you with no remorse.

You had decided to come out of the situation with grace rather than retaliation that day, especially considering the words that left his blood-hungry mouth as you turned your back to him to continue your journey; “Wonder when she’ll decide to sabotage us again.”

You pressed on, ignoring the sting as tears welled up in your eyes. Those words echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of why you were here in the first place. The party followed closely behind, just out of view.

It’s safe to say that the vampire had been less than kind to you ever since you picked him up from the trail outside of the nautiloid. But even his harsh remarks did not warrant any reciprocity from you, instead an aching in your chest that could not be explained. An odd twist among the animosity.

You fingered your blade between your hands, absentmindedly admiring the smudges and tiny chips in its shiny silver exterior. The blade was a tangible reminder of the battles and hardships you had endured, the weapon’s previously shiny exterior now marked by scars just like you.

“What’s got you down, darling? Break a nail?” Astarion’s mockery dripping in amusement, the remark was yet another dagger stabbed into your back by your supposed “friend”.

“I can’t deal with this tonight, Astarion. Please, just leave me alone.” You sounded more sad than you intended, cringing at the sound of your own shaky voice. He didn’t get the message though.

After a quick silence, Astarion retorted with some venom of his own, like always. “Whatever, sulk all you want. We’re going to Moonrise tomorrow, and if you can’t handle it, then perhaps you should hang back at camp while the rest of us do the hard work.” A fake pout spread across his lips, his hands laid on his hips.

Astarion had no idea where his hostility came from. When you’re in his vicinity, he feels so vulnerable, like you know exactly what’s in his head. Your presence annoyed him simply because he didn’t know what to make of you. Why were you being so reserved despite his remarks?

“You know what?”

Your frustration finally boiled over as you threw your silver chalice onto the ground, the shitty wine spilling out as it clattered to the dirt floor. “I’m sick of listening to you spew all this bullshit, Astarion. You don’t know shit about me, not that I’d trust you not to use it as a weapon against me!” You approached him, a finger waived in his face as you followed his retreating footsteps.

“Now now, darling. You know I’m just teasing you-”

“Just teasing? You’re an insufferable asshole. Next time you want to approach me, it’d better be with an apology or you’ll leave with a wooden stake in your torso.” Your words caused an ear-splitting silence that only made you feel leagues worse. That threat caught the attention of the other camp members, Halsin and Karlach quickly jogging over to break it up.

Karlach dragged you away to her tent, allowing you to sit while she got set up for the night. “That was explosive! Had we waited any longer, you’d both be leaving with bruises and broken limbs. What in the hells happened?” Her outrage was understandable, but the red-hot fury rushing through your veins blurred any rational thought.

Meanwhile, Halsin stood in front of Astarion with his arms crossed. They were just out of earshot but you could tell Halsin was not pleased with the situation.

“You didn’t hear what he said, Karlach.” Before you could continue with your angry ranting, Karlach put a hand up to stop you.

“Uh-uh, you and Astarion must talk this out like proper adults. Can’t believe I’m the one telling you to cool off, but it’s true.” She let out a small laugh at your pout. “And don’t give me the puppy pout, soldier…”

“Tomorrow, find an appropriate time to talk it out- without violence, please!” She grasped your shoulders firmly as she directed you towards your tent. Settling down for the night, you nestled yourself into bed with a myriad of thoughts swirling in your tadpole-filled head. As usual, sleep did not come easy.

The next morning, you awoke to the grating sound of Astarion banging two pots together. “Wake up, fearless leader! We’ve got a lot of people to murder today!” He shouted from outside your tent, snickering at his own actions. You heard Karlach shout at him as she yanked the pots from his hands.

“Get away before I break you in half…” The threat was fake, but it scared him off either way. He scoffed to himself, frustrated that the whole group danced around your feelings as if you were made of glass.

Your journey through the Shadowlands continued as you approached Last Light Inn. The aching in your feet was unbearable, each new step sent a new wave of aching through your body. The inn was so close, a faint light cutting through the dense darkness. It had to have been at least a couple of miles away at this point. Through the dark, monster-infested forest, the walk had been anything but relaxing.

The ground gave out underneath you, the dry unsaturated dirt falling and giving way to a deep hole in the ground. Perhaps it was a trap, you thought. Glancing around in the small space, you managed to find no evidence of foul play. Maybe it had just been the ground weakening after so many years in darkness?

Either way, the groaning just feet away from you made you glance below you to see Astarion slowly getting back on his feet. “Oh, this is just perfect. We were almost there, but no, we had to step into this trap-or whatever it is…” he whined to himself, glancing up at the rest of your party that stood above you.

“Shit! Hold on you two, we’ll look for something to help you out. We don’t have any rope on us, so we’ll have to see if we can find some!” Karlach shouted down at you both, digging through her pack for anything useful but not success. She whispered quietly to Gale, who gave a quick nod in response.

“Um, guys? What’s the plan here?” You voiced your concerns, and worry spread over your features.

The pair left quickly, making their way to Last Light Inn as fast as possible in an attempt to get assistance. “Where the hells did they go?” Astarion spat out, an angry expression on his face.

“To get help, what else?” You shrug. “Karlach wouldn’t leave us behind.” You leaned against the dirt wall of the hole, rubbing your temples as you felt a headache coming on.

“Unlike someone in our little band.” Astarion chuckled at his own joke, meanwhile, you were anything but amused. Direct attacks like these weren’t uncommon, but they still hurt nonetheless.

Words felt short as you searched your mind for some witty response. “What did I do to you?” You asked, a softer tone taking over. Astarion paused, looking you up and down.

“Excuse me?” He wasn’t sure he heard you right. Were you playing the victim?

“Did I do something wrong that made you decide to criticize me for everything? Or is it just your favorite pastime to make me feel like shit?” A shaky voice that came out as you spoke surprised you. You’ve faced more fearsome men than Astarion, yet you can’t keep your composure enough to scold him for his bad behavior.

Astarion paused for a moment, his breath quickening in realization of his actions. He traced his surging thoughts for a cause- any motive for treating you this way. But there was none.

Trapped in the darkness of the sinkhole, the urge to escape drew heavier and heavier as silence fell upon the two of you. Rescue could be hours- days away, who knows what danger could occur if they don’t return?

You had managed to stay far enough away from the vampire so that your backs were almost touching, a warmth from your body sending heat waves his way.

“There’s got to be a solution. Do you have any ideas? A shovel?” You cringed at your own unpreparedness, you’d forgone taking the shovel on your journey and left it in the chest of your belongings.

Your thoughts were cut off by an unwavering silence. Astarion had no retort, no sarcastic teasing, nothing. You huffed out a quick breath, the dirt wall shedding particles of dirt in consequence. “Look, I know we haven’t been pleasant with each other ever since we met, but I do not plan on dying in a hole.” You started clawing at the walls of the sinkhole, dirt clinging underneath your nails.

“I know you hate me but we have to assume the worst and-”

“I don’t hate you.” A soft voice broke the seemingly never-ending silence from Astarion’s side.

“What?” You stopped digging for a second, not being able to hear your own thoughts from the rock and rubble hitting the floor.

“I don’t hate you…” His expression softened, and his sharp features dulled into a tender gaze.

“If this is some kind of cruel joke, I’m not playing a role in it. From the way that you speak to me, would it be unfair to assume you’re not a fan of my presence?” You did not want to chew him out, but this day could not get worse, so you neglected your inhibitions for now.

“I know, I know. I don’t know why, but I just can’t…” he took a pause to think about his wording because you’d surely dig your way out and bury him if he found himself offending you.

“I can’t uh- function when you’re around. I feel like you’re- ugh I don’t know, pitying me?” He asked as if it were a question you could answer.

“Pitying you-what?” You could hardly see his face, but you could slightly visualize his white curls as he stood almost a foot away from you. You could smell his cologne, a faint woody yet citrus smell that made you dizzy.

He may be beyond aggravating but godsdamn did he smell good.

The confined space seemed to magnify the tense emotions between you. It was almost intimate, the way you could practically cut the thick tension with a knife. “You’re just so, nice…” He started speaking again, a different tone in his voice.

Honesty.

Astarion could sense your anger before you erupted and shoved him against the dirt wall. A wave of heat rose to his cheeks- was he blushing?

“Are you fucking kidding me, Astarion? You treated me like shit because I was nice to you? You better have an explanation-” He cut you off by pressing you back and right into the dirt wall behind you. Any frustrated words fell on your tongue before you could say them.

“You pick me up off a random trail, offer me to stay with you, and treat me better than I have ever felt. After years of bullshit from my master, all of a sudden you come around as a result of these fucking tadpoles, and I just trust you.” He paused when he noticed the heavy silence from you.

The unexpected confession was fucked up, especially considering that he could have had this conversation in the time he’d been in your party. “Why-”

“As much as I love to hear your voice, let me finish.” With that, your stomach fluttered in response to him. Not just his words, but his large hands that pressed your shoulders gently into the wall. It wasn’t a hard grasp, you could absolutely pull away if needed.

“I have never trusted anyone in my entire lifetime. But from the moment I pulled that knife on you, I knew you were nothing but genuine. And that’s just it. Why are you so nice despite everything I’ve done to you? Just tell me you hate me, be rude.” He begged you.

“I don’t hate you.” You were copying him now, a sympathetic smile on your face.

“See! Pity. Just tell me you have some kind of ulterior motive and you’re not the first person who has shown me any kindness in over 200 years.” He was almost moved to tears at this moment. His hands shook, just mere centimeters from yours as he pleaded for any sign of hatred on your part.

Of course, he didn’t hate you. How could he?

The way you blindly trusted him had him suspicious at first, but the more he grew to know you, the more he appreciated it. It wasn’t so much the physical aspects that he enjoyed, though you were the most stunning woman he’d seen in his many centuries on Faerûn.

Your eyes were almost magnetic, the adoring glint in them when you gawked at a cat or anything else that caught your attention made him wish you’d glance at him that way. Hells, if you’d give him a single smile, he’d be reminiscing about it for the rest of the day. Feeling the sun on his skin for the first time in several years, and seeing the forest in its full color, neither compared.

His breaths were heavy with insecurity, a pit in his stomach as he gathered the courage to raise his gaze to you.

You spoke softly. “You know you’re not a bad person, right? You’re not a monster.” You shrug it off as if it were a fact that simply rolled off your tongue without a single residual thought. “I don’t think you’re a monster.” Your voice shrunk slightly, realizing how heavy this confession might weigh on a vampire spawn.

Astarion was speechless for a brief moment, an incomprehensible look on his face. “If only everyone else thought the same, dear.” He didn’t quite know what to respond with. After all he’d put you through, the feeding, the enemies he’d made along the way; he’d understand if you had run away in fear, but you didn’t.

“It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks of you.” You frown at his words, the feeling of his body against yours is intoxicating, but you manage to push away your lust for the time being. “Hells, it doesn’t even matter what I think of you-”

“It does! Look…” He sighed to himself, removing his grasp on your shoulders. His hands found their way to your waist, resting on the slightly rusted metal armor you had acquired somewhere in the recesses of the Githyanki Creche. “I care what you think…” His red eyes glared down at you, his gaze flicking down to your lips occasionally.

“I’ve been unfair to you, dear. I held you to higher standards and scrutinized everything you did as if I could do it any better than you. You’re just uh- not like anyone I’ve ever met, and the fact that you can understand me better than myself it seems-” He paused, another sigh leaving his lips.

“It scares me.”

Astarion’s gaze faltered from his confession, a taste in his mouth that could only be described as embarrassment. Dragged from his thoughts yet again, your warm hands met with his face as you held his cheek. “I understand, Astarion. But you also have to understand that I couldn’t have possibly known your true intentions. I mean- that was some heavy scrutiny…” You snickered to yourself, watching the embarrassment on his face melt away into a softer expression.

The rest of the campaign had not arrived just yet, and the blistering cold air was near impossible to beat. Though Astarion’s body was not very helpful for warmth, it felt better than simply standing on your lonesome in the small dirt hole.

Between the close proximity and your hand on the side of his face, his mind was clouding with desire. “Gods, how could you stand all of it? If it were me I’d have bloody killed you by now.” He said with a pout on his face.

You thought of how to respond to that. Was it not sheer luck that you hadn’t murdered him near the nautiloid after he threatened you? Have you been harboring these feelings this whole time?

“Perhaps it’s your charm, or perhaps it’s the fact that there is little other option than to be friendly with you.” You held your tongue as often as possible during Astarion’s teasing, but it seemed like he finally understood.

“No no, I think it was the first one.” He stuttered out with a gentle smile, his fangs briefly appearing, shining in the faint moonlight. “You know…the rest of the group is going to be gone for a while. I know a way we can make time go faster…” The topic of your interest in him had always kept him awake at night, but now that he was positive you felt charmed by his words despite his endless mockery, he felt warm inside.

Astarion was not blissfully unaware of his past. Men and women would see him for one thing; his body. If he were to withhold, the opportunity for praise from his master, Cazador, would be gone. You were not simply a victim for Cazador, so why did he feel like he needed to use himself to keep you?

You put a hand on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “Baby steps, darling. First, I think we should focus on getting out of this hole.” The sigh of relief that came from Astarion’s mouth confirmed your silent theory about him. The man had been extra flirtatious to practically everyone he met, and as the time you spent with the rest of your part grew larger, you could see his disdain with every passing word.

A frown on his face afterward, brows knit tight together in thought. Regret.

“Oh, well-” He paused, swallowing the urge to shell himself out. “That’s very refreshing to hear.”

“I’m glad.”

[citruswriter]

Orange Fluff/Angst Ascended Astarion x Reader Imagine Drabble

Major, major, major TW on this one guys

He was... different after he ascended. Sure he was still the loving, adoring, and ever so doting Astarion. But you quickly realized that he became utterly obsessed with you. It was cute at first, but it quickly became suffocating. One evening, you broke the news to him. You two were through. Of course he did everything he could to change your mind, but you stood firm. Leaving him to scowl at you and turn cold. "Fine! But it's very much your loss". He spat out.

You left, found another man, fell in love, married. Life was a dream... until it wasn't. Now, years later, you run through the rainy night as you hear your husbands voice call after you. You ran to the only person you knew. Astarion.

He was quite surprised to hear banging on his door so late at night, imagine how much more surprised he was to find you. Out of breath, soaking wet, begging to be let in. "And why should I? You broke my heart and ran off". He'd argue. It wouldn't be until he heard your husband's voice call out your name, calling you every name in the book, as you stood in front of him trembling in utter fear would he finally let you in.

He'd be dramatic, of course. Telling you how lucky you were that he still had a soft spot for you after you utterly shattered his poor, poor heart. You'd let him have his moment, but you wouldn't look at him until he'd finally decide to ask you what you wanted. He'd stare at you in shock and horror as you'd shed your cloak, purple bruises littering your body. A blow on your cheek, hand shaped ones around your wrists, fist shaped ones on your arms and even your chest. "There's more... elsewhere". You'd mutter, face blank and eyes empty.

He'd step forward, rushing you to a bathroom to start a hot bath for you. He'd offer to do your hair as you'd hold the night robe close to your body. He'd gently prod until you'd spill everything. He'd ask you if he did more than beat you. You'd confess that you told your husband about some of the things Cazador did to him, causing him to wince. "I guess he felt inspired", you squeak out as you'd shove the robe off your body, scarred writing on your back in a similar fashion to his. He'd tremble and skim his fingers across the marks, flashbacks running through his mind.

"I was finally able to make a run for it. So I ran and I ran and I didn't stop." You'd mutter out. "But you left. You said I treated you horribly." He'd gently counter. "But he did all the things you'd never dare do". Slipping the robe back up, you'd turn to look at him, staring into those beautiful eyes of his. His dead heart would skip a beat and he'd hold his breath as he'd notice you reach your hand up to touch his face only to bite back a whine as you'd drop it back to your lap. He'd grab your face as you'd go to turn away from him and kiss you, so filled with emotion that he'd fear he might just burst. You'd burst into tears and kiss him back. You'd mutter some apology and he'd hush you and whisper comforting things back to you. You'd stay like this until before you knew it, you were in his bed again. You'd sink into his silk sheets as he'd make you sigh in pleasure, the map to your body still carved into his mind. He'd kiss every bruise and mutter how beautiful you are, how you're safe, how he won't let anybody hurt you again, how he's so happy that you're utterly his again. His. His forever. His always.

A small voice in the back of your head would warn you, maybe tryta scream at you that this was a red flag. But as you let him puncture your neck like you used to do and let his hands gently caress your battered body, you'd squash that little voice out. Shut up. You'd think. I'm his again. His forever. You'll never leave again. Because last time you did, it was very much your loss.

(Might make a oneshot or two part to this).

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Little Love

Love Bites, Chapter 3 // Love Bites {Masterlist}

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x fem!vampire spawn!elf!Tav/reader

Summary: Appearances can be deceiving, but they can also tell you everything you need to know. A second look at the elf you once called a friend is all you need to fill in the two-hundred year gap.

Word Count: 4,631 words

Warnings: flashback within a flashback (your perspective), alcohol, Astarion's parents (I gave them my own names), grave desecration, grief

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Astarion never went back to the same tavern twice. Not for many years, at least. But, against his better judgment, he went back to yours, three nights later.

He wasn’t sure what was drawing him back, not really. It wasn’t as if this particular tavern seemed very promising. Its patrons were, well, regular people. Nothing about them seemed particularly special. In fact, it was probably more dangerous to be going back so soon—for all Astarion knew, Rahul’s friends were still loitering there and would kill him the moment they saw the man Rahul had left the tavern with. The last man who ever saw Rahul alive. 

His other victims from the past two nights were inconsequential. They hadn’t insisted on telling him their names, the male druid and female elf who had each been a little more than an hour’s worth of his time combined. They had been easy targets, lonely people who were all too easy to seduce. He almost felt bad for them. But not as bad as he felt about Rahul. Both nights, Astarion had jolted out of his trances with a shout upon hearing Rahul’s screams in his dreams again. Both times, he’d been rewarded by Godey with a whipping. 

Even as he walked into the tavern, Astarion wasn’t sure what he was doing. It was only after the door had swung shut behind him, hitting a little bell as it did, and you looked over from the bar and raised a hand in greeting did he realize why he’d come back.

He locked eyes with you as he made his way toward a small table in the corner. He paused, watching you. There was something in your eyes that made the tension in his shoulders disappear. 

You’d done your hair differently today. It was braided back, a couple strands of it loose around your face, clearly having escaped during your work. Your beautiful face had morphed into an expression of surprise, like you were shocked to see him here again.

But there was something else in it—the slightest bit of repressed hope, an expression Astarion had seen all too often on the faces of his victims just before they died, when they still thought he might save them from his master. 

On your face, though, hope was comforting. You looked almost…relieved to see him. 

Before he realized what he was doing, Astarion turned toward the bar and sat directly in front of you. He heard your breath catch in your throat and your pulse speed up and for a moment he felt a twinge of regret. You, too, would make an easy target. 

You recovered quickly, however. You finished wiping down the bartop and dropped the rag into the sink. You leaned on the bartop. “What can I get you tonight, sir?”

“A glass of your finest red wine,” he says after a moment of thought. 

Something minute in your face changed. You blinked too fast and hid the look in your eyes, but for a moment the façade of a bartender serving a patron disappeared. It was only a second, but was enough for the gears in Astarion’s head to start turning.

You laughed with a smile on your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, hun. The ‘finest red wine’ changes from person to person. What kind of flavor are you going for?”

Hun. The moniker stood out in Astarion’s mind, dominating every other word you’d said. Hun, short for honey, and for some reason, he could hear the complete word in your voice: softer, gentler, loving. Not at all the way a bartender speaks to her patrons. 

Only after you raised your brow did Astarion remember you’d asked him a question. He shook himself out of his head. “Oh, something full-bodied,” he said. 

“Now that I can work with,” you said. You turned to search your shelves and Astarion watched you release a long breath very slowly. You wiped your palms on your pants before reaching up and sliding a bottle from its place. You presented the bottle to him. “How about this?”

Astarion studied the label and vintage. “I’ll admit, I’ve never heard of it,” he said, shrugging idly. “But if you think I’ll like it, I’m inclined to trust you.”

He watched you cut off the wax seal and uncork the bottle. You poured enough for a tasting into the glass and slid it across the bartop to him. 

“How does that taste?”

Astarion sniffed the wine before swallowing it down. Pleasantly, it didn’t taste like vinegar, like most wines he’d had the bad luck to drink in tavern after tavern. He could taste the alcohol and the grapes and the blackberry undertones easily, all melding together wonderfully.

“This,” he said, passing back the glass, “is absolutely what I am looking for.”

You grinned and filled up the glass. “I thought it might be.”

Astarion swirled his glass while you re-corked the bottle and set it in ice. He watched as you helped another patron sitting at the bar, a middle-aged woman complaining about her husband being out of work and asking if there was perhaps a job for him at the tavern.

You calmed her as you made her cocktail, talking soothingly and nodding in sympathy as she complained about trying to feed their infant. It was your sympathy that made Astarion feel pity for the woman. 

Something about you was achingly familiar. There were times when you spoke, certain words that you said, that struck a chord in him, simply because they sounded familiar. The way you moved behind the bar, so graceful in a space that was unbearably small, seemed comfortable to Astarion, as if he would be able to anticipate your movements and react accordingly if he were to join you behind the bar. 

It was almost painful, this feeling of familiarity and alienation combining in one person. It was like the nights when Astarion first realized he was forgetting his life before being a vampire where he would sit in the dark and grasp at straws for pieces of his life, only for his mother’s face to fade into nothingness and his father’s voice to be lost in the shadows forever and—

A twinge of pain split through Astarion. It was nothing compared to the pain Cazador or Godey regularly inflicted on him, but it was enough to make him flinch anyway. He rubbed his temple as if he could will the building migraine away.

Your eyes flicked over to him, watching the motion with concern, but it just confused Astarion further. You reacted to him so readily, so easily. If it hadn’t been for how innately close and familiar you felt, Astarion would simply have chalked it up to your attraction for him. It wasn’t unlike his prey to keep a close eye on him. But he hadn’t even picked you as his victim for the night, he hadn’t even attempted to seduce you yet. This was entirely of your own accord. 

You gave the woman her drink and pulled your braid over your shoulder as you helped the female tiefling Astarion had seen and considered taking back to Cazador the other day. Suddenly he was very glad he hadn’t; the disappearance of a regular might have been enough to force him out of this part of town for several months at least. 

Astarion glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the tavern. He didn’t see the group Rahul had been with anywhere; perhaps they had already moved on, without a care in the world for their lost friend or comrade or what have you.

Perhaps they thought Rahul had settled into a happy life with a nice young man and would be staying here to live out his days, enjoying nights of passion and drinks at a nice tavern and playing the protector of the pretty boy elf he’d left with. 

Astarion wasn’t sure if it was for his own sake or Rahul’s that he wished that such a fantasy was what they believed. 

As you gave the tiefling a glass of champagne, your eyes strayed back to Astarion. He caught your glance and grinned.

“Surprised to see me still sitting here?” he teased.

You shrugged. “You were here three days ago and vanished without a trace. Forgive me if I feel like you might blow away in the wind.”

“Sometimes it feels like I might.” The words slipped out without any thought behind them. For a moment, Astarion wondered what the hell was wrong with him to dare say such a thing, but your sympathetic smile soothed him.

The talent of a well-practiced bartender, he thought. Get your patrons to loosen up, ply them for more liquor, take home more money—all by smiling and charming and flirting. From one actor to another, I must hand it to her. She’s quite good at this kind of thing.

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked, propping your head up on your hand. The movement exposed more of your cleavage, but judging from the look in your eyes, Astarion guessed that wasn’t your purpose in the movement. You genuinely wanted him to open up.

Your gaze stopped him from speaking. Your eyes were clear and focused entirely on him. You weren’t like the other bartenders he’d chatted up in the past, with their shifting eyes betraying how they were never really focused on him but instead on their tavern and the other patrons they could squeeze more coin out of. 

And, what’s more, your lips formed a soft smile. Joy and love and the sun itself seemed to radiate from you and your expressive face. You looked at him the way a young woman ought to look at her betrothed, with the purity of young love, much more genuine than the pseudo-love and lust he so often saw in his victims. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Astarion whispered, unable to stop himself from asking. 

You realized yourself quite suddenly. Your face dropped and Astarion wanted to beg you to look at him like that again, to apologize and say he never wanted you to stop looking at him like that—he just wanted to know why? Why had you chosen him to be the object of your affections?

Your eyes dipped to the bartop, where his fingers still held the stem of his glass. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “You— You remind me of someone I know. Someone I miss.”

“A lover?” Astarion guessed, attempting to make it into a tease.

“More than that,” you said, your voice impossibly soft and serious. You fiddled with the strings on your corset. “He was my best friend.”

Astarion’s heart sank in his chest. “Was?”

You nodded slowly. “He died. A long, long time ago.” You shake yourself out of the sorrow that settled on you like a blanket. “You just so happen to look a lot like him. Hells, you even sound like him, just a little bit. I’m sorry if that made…this…strange. You just…sort of brought him back to me, for a moment.”

“Not at all,” Astarion said quietly. “I’m…happy to have brought you that.”

You nodded, lost in your thoughts, your eyes fixated on his. Your lower lip trembled. You sought words, but came up empty handed. All you said was, again, “You remind me of him.”

~❊~

It’s him. By the gods, it’s really him.

You kept busy for the rest of the night, watching Astarion out of the corner of your eye. For he was Astarion, you were certain of that now. Hearing his voice, smooth and suave and the same as you remembered had confirmed it for you. The moment he’d requested your finest red wine, you could hear him calling you darling, could hear your name rolling off his tongue. 

He didn’t remember you, that much was obvious. Some part of you was glad he didn’t, because you weren’t sure what you would have done if he had remembered who you were. You had to focus on that gladness, or else you were going to focus on the disappointment, which made you want to sit on the floor and cry like you had when you’d first received word that he was dead—the kind of crying that left you shaking and never seemed to stop and sounded more like screams than anything else. 

You were also quite certain he would not be flirting with the young elf sitting next to him if he remembered you, his best friend since birth and lover of nearly two decades. 

Perhaps even more obvious than his lack of memory was how he was alive—or rather, undead, for it was quite clear he was a vampire. He was careful to hide his fangs, but the red eyes were enough for you to know, combined with the paleness of his skin and the color of the skin around his eyes. It might have been two hundred years, but you knew your lover well-enough to know he had not been quite so pale in his life. 

The realization of what he was answered a question that had lingered in your mind for years, ever since you’d paid a visit to his desecrated grave. The city had explained the dug-up earth to be the vandalism of the gang that had first attacked and killed him and had assured you and the Ancunins that Astarion’s coffin had not been touched; his body remained inside.

Clearly, they had been wrong. 

You glanced at Astarion. The smug, seductive, confident look on his face was that of a practiced lover, nothing like the goofy and slightly shy boy you had made love to. You wondered what happened, but knew a lot could happen in the two hundred years between now and that terrible night. 

~❊~

The Ancunins walked hand-in-hand. You were just ahead of them, leading the way to their son’s grave, a plot you had chosen to keep their beautiful boy in the sun at high noon. It was far from high noon now; they had chosen to visit the grave in the night, certain they would be attacked by the Gur who had killed their boy if they were seen mourning. 

It was a beautiful night, the kind of night you and Astarion would have loved. He would have held your hand and helped you to climb up to the roof, and you would have sat there for hours, cuddling and talking and admiring the stars he’d been named after. He would have told you about his day at work and played with your bracelets and rings when talking about the difficult rulings he’d made that day made him anxious all over again. He would have wrapped his cloak around your shoulders when you got cold. He would have kissed your nose when you asked to go back to the safety of the bed you shared. He would have helped you climb down and would have put you to bed, only to go stand on the balcony to stare up at the sky for a few moments more. 

He loved the night, and this was the kind of night he would have wanted to have lasted forever: not so cold that you shivered instantly, but cold enough to have a chill bite in the air. Bats danced in the air and wisps of clouds moved across the moon and stars. Pale light illuminated the world in a hauntingly beautiful way. It seemed particularly cruel. 

His mother trembled terribly. Already, silver tear tracks stained her cheeks. You had never seen Selwynn so frail, so scared. Even when she’d found out her son had been murdered, she hadn’t been the skeleton she was now. No, then she had been a fire, screaming and raging and demanding answers until the tears started coming. Now she was a ghost, silent and pale, her veins stark against her skin. All the life and color had drained from her in the past few days. 

His father fared better, but not by much. Thesan’s eyes were sunken, his hair matted and limp, the whites of his eyes bloodshot, though he had not cried at all since he heard the news, unlike his wife. He hadn’t been resting, but then again, none of you had. More than once, your mother had stumbled across you in the night to find you in the kitchen, staring sightlessly into the dark, a glass of water held limply in your hand.

You were glad you hadn’t let them see the body. Looking at them now, you were certain it would have broken them to see their golden boy without life. It had been enough to break you; let them, at least, live out their long lives with their last memories of their son being of him alive and smiling and kissing them goodbye as he left for work. 

Somewhere in the graveyard, an owl called. Another answered. Mice squeaked and scattered nearby, scurrying for shelter amongst the fallen leaves and in the shadows of tall graves. 

“Where is he?” Astarion’s mother asked. Her voice was little more than a faint whisper, lost easily in the slightest breeze. Gone was the strong, operatic voice that had once sung her son to sleep when he was little. “Where’s my son?”

“Patience, darling,” Thesan said, sounding just as—if not more—tired as she. 

“He’s just ahead,” you promised. You looked forward to where you knew his grave to be. Through the grey dark, you read his name on the stone and it felt wrong, like it went against the grain of your life to see him like this—a stone instead of a young man. 

The three of you came to a rest before the headstone. You took a step back and let them crouch before their son. Silence fell heavily over them and the cemetery. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes; you looked down so they couldn’t see you cry. They’d seen enough of your tears. 

“Astarion,” Selwynn whispered, her voice wavering. She reached out to touch the stone, tracing her son’s name carved into it with care. For a moment, she seemed to be at peace, looking at his name. It didn’t last. In moments, she crumbled with a cry that was a cross between a sob and a scream. 

She keeled forward, grabbing the stone and pressing her forehead to it. She inhaled sharply and coughed on her own tears. When she finally cleared her throat, helped by her husband rubbing her back, her cries became wails that shook her entire body. The freshly turned dirt beneath her began to stain her pale grey dress. 

Thesan puts an arm around his wife’s back, comforting her the only way he could, and he put his palm on the top of the stone. He began murmuring in Elvish, too low for you to hear clearly, but you caught a few words and understood he was whispering for his son to find safety in the afterlife, until he was reborn. After a moment, his broad shoulders began to shake and your heart cracked in half as you realized he was crying for the first time. His tears interrupted his speech every so often.

You wiped your tears from your eyelashes and sat on the ground. You hugged your legs to your chest, biting your lip so hard you drew blood to keep yourself from crying again. 

His father looked up at the starry sky, a fist raised in anger. “He’s still a child!” he shouted. “A child! And he’s in the godsdamned ground!”

A sharp cry came from Astarion’s mother and she got to her feet so quickly she knocked her husband to the ground. She looked at you and you rose from where you sat.

“I can’t stay here,” she gasped through tears. “He’s beneath me. I can’t— He— He shouldn’t be… He should be in my arms! In your arms! But he’s beneath me!” 

She looked at the ground like she might start digging it up to see her little boy again. You took her hands in hers, holding her tightly. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to stay. You can go. It’s okay. He’ll understand. He knows, I promise you he knows,” you whispered. A tear rolled down your cheek. 

Selwynn squeezed her eyes shut. “I just want him to be okay…”

“He is okay,” you promised. “He is with the gods. They’ll send him back to us, one day, in a new body.”

Her lower lip trembled. “But he won’t be my son anymore.”

“There can always be more children,” Thesan started, speaking hesitantly.

“No!” she snapped, almost screamed, at him. She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. Calmer, she repeated, “No.”

He nodded. “I thought not.” He wrapped her in his arms and she cried into his chest. He opened his arm to you and you joined them in their hug. “You are still our daughter, even if you are not marrying our son. You are…the only family we have left.”

A small sob escaped you. Your body trembled as you looked up at him; you had always thought Astarion resembled his mother more, but now all you could see was the man Astarion would never get to be in his father’s face. “Thank you.”

He kissed his wife’s hair. “Come, darling. We should get home. You need to rest.”

You led them out of the cemetery. It was only after you were closing the gate leading into it that Selwynn stopped short, gasping loudly.

“Flowers! I— I forgot to put flowers on his grave,” she moaned, folding her hands above her heart. She glanced at the flowers outside the gate door. “I have to go back—”

“I’ll do it,” you said. “Get some rest. You need it. You deserve it, after all of this.”

“He deserves flowers from his mother,” she said weakly.

“In the morning,” Thesan said. “When all of this has died down, we can come back and pay him our respects.”

You shared a look of understanding with him; even if it took weeks, months, years for Baldur’s Gate to stop reeling from this crime and for the Gur to calm down from the ruling—which was being reversed later in the week, much to the relief of everyone else who the Gur had believed complicit in Astarion’s actions and who had feared for their own lives—the Ancunins would visit their son again to say farewell when they could finally do so in peace.

You watched them go. Several long, silent minutes passed, but you waited until they were out of your sight and you were alone before you bent to pick flowers for your lover. You chose them carefully, plucking only the most vibrant and tallest and fullest for him. Once you had a sizable bouquet of wildflowers in your hand, you headed back through the cemetery and search out Astarion’s headstone again. You found it easily, but your heart stopped beating when you saw it.

Something was wrong. You knew it instantly. The already chill air seemed to turn frigid as you looked at the plot. It was too dark, too big, spilling into the spaces next to it. It looked nothing like it did only minutes ago. 

An iron tang filled your nose, distinct and wrong and laced with something you could only describe as evil. 

You ran, dodging around headstones to get to the grave—to get to Astarion—as fast as possible.

I couldn’t protect him that night. I have to protect him now!

Mud squelched beneath your feet, smelling strongly of blood and death. You looked at it in horror; it was a mix of dirt and gravel and clay from deep in the earth, all of it soaked in blood. All of it in piles, coming from the center of Astarion’s grave. 

The smell was worse than the sight: chemicals of entombment, the body’s natural gasses, blood, vomit, sweat, urine. Something about it seemed alcoholic and heady, making you sway on your feet, though you knew that could easily just be from your disgust. 

But worst of all, his stone was splattered with the terrible mixture. 

Your stomach dropped to your feet and then rose to your throat. You cupped a hand over your mouth to keep back your bile. Tears streamed down your face.

A moment. You had been gone only a moment. And in that time, someone—or multiple someones—had come and desecrated your lover’s grave, as if killing him had been enough. 

You fell to your knees with a gut-wrenching scream. You bent in half, clutching the flowers to your chest, clenching your teeth tightly. You bit down on your hand to keep from screaming again.

Muffled sobs ripped themselves from your chest. “Astarion,” you gasped. “Astarion, I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! I— I— I’ll fix this! I promise! I’ll…I’ll speak to the town’s jury, I’ll get them to punish whoever did it— Gods, your grave. Your beautiful stone…”

Mindlessly, you put the flowers aside. You stepped around the muddy mess of chopped up dirt and pulled out your handkerchief. You cleaned the stone with it as best as you could, using your fingers and spit when the cloth was too dirty to do anything else but push the gunk around. 

“There,” you said when it was as clean as you could get it. “Clean. Clean like you.”

You looked at the turned grave dirt. “I have to fix this, too. Your parents—I can’t let them see you like this, can I? They’ll be devastated.” 

You got back on your knees and began shoving the dirt back over the grave, patting it back down and drenching your hands and arms with bloody dirt. As you worked, you spoke to him: “I’ll get this all sorted out in the morning, love, I promise. I’ll get you justice. I won’t stand for this, Astarion. I’ll talk to someone first thing tomorrow morning. They’ve already killed you, can’t they just leave you be? Is dying not enough for—for a simple ruling? Yes, I admit, it wasn’t the best decision you could have made, but there had to be a better solution than…than mugging you in a godsdamned alleyway and then desecrating your grave! At the very least, if they can’t respect you, can’t they have some respect for your parents? For me? Your mother doesn’t deserve this endless pain!” You sighed, leaning back and wiping your forehead. Some part of you, the rational part, was aware that you had streaked blood and dirt all over yourself, but the part of you working didn’t care very much. “Of course, I can’t make you too pretty yet, Astarion. I’m sorry, but no one will believe me if I fix you up perfectly. But I can at least make it look like you haven’t been graverobbed.”

You worked for several more minutes. At last, you staggered to your feet, a wave of exhaustion passing through you. 

“You know what?” you said to the headstone. “I’m not waiting until morning. I’m going to go talk to someone right now. I can’t let you stay like this all night. Not when your stars are shining down on you.” Dimly, you were aware that you looked like a graverobber and that you looked insane—but that would probably help your case. “I’ll be back soon, Astarion. I promise I won’t leave you alone like this.”

You began to walk away from his stone. Only a few paces away, you paused and turned around. You stared up at the sky and pointed up at it as if you could command it to watch over your dead lover while you were gone. 

Once more, you knelt to kiss his name. 

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

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[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Satisfaction

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.2K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, violence, mentions of torture, knoll attack, angst to fluff

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

“I can’t fucking believe you.” you seethed at him.

“Likewise you entitled little cunt.” Astarion spat back.

You threw a punch at him, connecting with his jaw. Karlach and Wyll rushed over to hold you back as Astarion held his face. 

“You knew that quarrel was mine to settle. Kethric and Orin were mine to end. And then you just waltz off and kill them both while I’m out getting ready to fight your battle against Cazador?” you spat on the ground in front of him, shrugging Karlach and Wyll off harshly.

Astarion smirked at you, pleased with the fact he got under your skin. 

“The next time you need help I wont fucking be there. I hope Cazador gets what he wants, because I can't stand to be in your general vicinity, you low down bitch.” you could feel your eyes water with frustration but your voice remained stern. 

Astarion faltered but only for a moment, “How about instead of a tantrum I get a thank you? I dealt with your problem. That's two less issues on our laundry list of enemies.”

You glared at him, “How would you feel if I killed Cazador? Would be a different story right? You didn’t give me the satisfaction… Just… stay away from me Astarion.” your anger tapered out and all you could feel was emptiness. You walked back to your tent silently. Karlach and Wyll went back to what they were doing, also unhappy with what Astarion had done. 

You sniffled and wiped away any tears that fell as you packed your bag. You needed to get away from camp, just for a few days. Sort yourself out. You told Karlach deep in the night what was going on and begged her not to tell anyone else. She agreed, understanding completely.

You walked out of camp while the sun was still missing from the morning sky. 

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

Astarion woke from his meditation, leaving his tent his eyes widened when he saw your tent was broken down. Everything of yours was missing, including you. He walked over to your tent, trying to find a sign that you’d be back. His heart started to race. 

Fuck.

He knew your fight last night hurt you. And he admittedly did go after Kethric and Orin to shorten the never ending list of enemies, but he also did it to take a shot at you. You’d both squabble since this little adventure started. Constantly goading each other for an unknown reason. Astarion jogged over to Karlach’s tent, you two were close, instant best friends. 

“Where is Y/N?” he asked quickly.

Karlach shrugged, not speaking to him. 

“Do you know where they went?” he asked again.

“Why do you care?” she sighed, finally looking at him. 

“I… don’t… I was just… wondering if they were still licking their wounds.” he said, trying to sound convincing.

“Well, they’re just an entitled cunt, right?” Karlach glared at him.

“Come now my fiery friend, you know Y/N and I have our little rows.” he tried to defend himself.

“Except this wasn’t a row Astarion!” Karlach yelled. Astarion stepped back, wincing at her sudden loud tone. “They were tortured for an eternity. Just like you. They dreamed of escaping. Just like you. They are trying to heal. Just like you. How dare you sit there and take away the one shot at revenge they had? How. Fucking. Dare. You.” she said, poking him in the chest harshly with every last word.

“I… I didn’t know that…” Astarion whispered. 

“Well it’s not exactly something they wanted to advertise.” she said, turning around, frustration evident in her voice. 

“Do you know where they are?” he asked one last time, the guilt inside him boiling up his throat. 

“No.” Karlach said before walking back into her tent, ending the conversation.

Astarion huffed, running his hands over his face. He felt awful, your typical fights were short and sweet. This was… something else now. 

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

Ver’yll jogged into camp after a few days, running over to Karlach. He spoke to her briefly, her face falling instantly. She grabbed her axe, running out of camp. Astarion saw this and quickly followed, not wanting Karlach to go alone to whatever this is. Running deep into Baldur’s Gate, Karlach ran into the open hand temple. Astarion dashed behind her before he saw you. Unconscious on a cot, with bandages wrapped around your torso. Blood seeping through slightly. His heart stopped, his feet planted to the floor. Karlach knelt beside you, grasping your limp hand. 

“What happened?” Astarion asked the cleric tending to you. 

“Don’t know, they were found on the steps this morning. Looks like a gnoll did a number on them.” The cleric replied, “They’ll need to spend a few days here to heal.”

“I’ll stay with them.” Astarion said instantly.

Karlach furrowed her brows at him. 

“Please…” he said with his soft eyes ever present. 

“Fine, I’ll go let the others know. Keep a low profile.” she said with a stern voice.

Astarion held your hand, pushing hair out of your face and ghosting his fingers over your cheek. 

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

It took you three days to wake up. Astarion rushed to your side, “Little love, are you alright? Cleric!” he called out.

You squinted at the light pouring in from the stained glass window. Voices echo in your head, your eyesight not quite adjusting. “Astarion?” you croaked out sleepily. 

You tried to sit up but he gently pushed you back down, shushing you. The cleric pushed him aside. “No…” you said, reaching for him weakly. 

He moved to the other side of the cot, holding your hand. The cleric worked deftly, changing your bandages and rubbing different solutions into your stitched up gashes. You faded in and out of consciousness for this process before finally waking up fully as the cleric left the room. You looked at Astarion as you felt him kiss your hand. You looked at him, his eyes moved over your exposed torso, looking at the scars Orin and Kethric had left over many years. You had never seen his eyes look so doe like, so round and full of sorrow. 

“Did you stay with me the whole time?” you asked.

He nodded, bringing a cup of water to your lips. 

“Thank you.” you said after taking a few sips.

“I’m so sorry Y/N… Karlach told me… I never would have done that if I knew… I know I can’t take it back, and no amount of apologies will make up for it… but please know I am truly sorry.” he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. 

“I was so angry with you…” you started, looking in his eyes. “But… I know you were just trying to kill enemies we had, and you didn’t know why I wanted them dead so bad. I should have told you… thank you, for apologizing.” you said with a sigh.

“Maybe we should put this whole bickering business behind us?” he said, brushing some hair away from your forehead.

You chuckled softly, “No way… how will I spend so much time with you if we aren’t fighting?” 

“Darling, if time with me is what you wish all you have to do is ask.” he kissed your hand again before smiling at you. 

“Never been good at asking for what I want… Should we start over?” you asked, shifting closer to him. 

“No way…” he smiled before leaning over and kissing your cheek. 

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello everyone! Sorry I went on a little hiatus, I was in the hospital for sepsis so kinda hard to write when I was that sick. I hope this is to everyones liking, I'll post one or two more fics over the weekend. Thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests. Love youuuuuuu XOXOXOXO!!!!!!!

[darkeunology]

♡ Touches ♡

Word Count: 1804

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talks of dying, combat

Summary: You and Astarion only ever touched each other when close to death, maybe sometimes you need to be touched to live too

Not Requested

Not Proof Read

I'm only on Act 2 of the game so this has no spoilers for midway Act 2 onwards

Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever been able to predict all that had happened to you in the last few days. From being on the Nautiloid ship and having a Mind Flayer tadpole forced into your eye - something that still makes you shiver in disgust anytime you think about it - to raiding the Goblin camp so the Tieflings finding refuge at the Emerald Grove can finally make their way out and helping every one of your companions with their memories and the help they need with other matters. As strange as these past few days have been, you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, you were having the adventure of your life with people you were getting closer with by the day. 

One person you were getting a little closer with than the others was Astarion, I mean how could you not. It had been a few nights since you were woken up by a strange feeling you had in your gut, the feeling of someone being too close next to you - opening your eyes to the sight of Asterion above your neck, fangs nearly biting you, 

“Shit.” He spoke sheepishly, backing away from you, hastily standing up as you did too. “No, no. It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” he almost pleaded, hoping to convince you as you raised your eyebrow at him, looking at him in disbelief. “I wasn’t going to hurt you, I just needed… Well… Blood.” 

The dim firelight illuminated Astarion where he stood, you scrutinised his features, something you hadn’t really had the time or need to do before. When you think about it now, you’re amazed it took so long to realise, the unnatural blood red eyes that would pierce you everytime he looked at you, the way his lips bared his teeth, two large fangs being prominent in his smile, he was a vampire. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” You started, shaking your head in shock, you recalled what had happened earlier that morning, the boar you’d found laying on the floor, you’d asked Astarion about it, him telling you that something had obviously bitten it and taken it’s blood, “We even found the boar you snacked on.” 

“It’s not what you think,” he rushed to say, “I’m not some monster.” he spoke more delicately now, as if the word ‘Monster’ was something he had carved on him. “I feed on animals. Boars, Deer, Kobolds - whatever i can get. I’m just too slow right now. Too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, not actually that hurt that he didn’t tell you. 

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely you’d ram a stake through my ribs. No. I needed you to trust me.” He moved slightly closer to you, still keeping enough distance that you wouldn’t feel threatened, “And you can trust me.” he finished, his voice becoming more sultry as he spoke, almost trying to seduce you into letting him bite you. 

“I do. I believe you.” you spoke gently, trying to not wake any of your other companions up, frankly you were amazed they hadn’t woken up yet. 

Astarion looked relieved at your words,”Thank you. Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” He asked, his voice still seductive, “I only need a taste, I swear.” 

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need.” you confirmed, not quite sure why you were actually going to let someone drink your blood. Maybe it was because his voice was doing something to you, maybe it was just because you needed Astarion to be at his best for any fights you were undoubtedly going to encounter tomorrow.  

He smirked at your answer, “Let’s get comfy then shall we?” He extended his hand towards your bedroll on the floor, signalling for you to lie back down, his body coming down on top of yours, his hand brushing some stray hair out of the way, brushing it behind your ear. Your eyes widened slightly as you felt his teeth sink into your skin, the pain burning initially before it sinks into a feeling of numbness, your bodies connecting through this moment together. It doesn’t take long until you're using your strength to push him away from you, deciding that he’d had enough. He kneels down next to you, his breath heavy, “Ah, that - that was amazing.” He smiled menacingly, standing up as he spoke, taking a few steps away from you again, “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel…Happy.” he smirked, his eyes travelling over your body.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you fight.” you spoke, remembering the reason you even allowed him to bite you in the first place, hoping that this would’ve been worth it. 

“Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing.” Astarion smirked. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” He turned his back to you, about to walk off but giving one last comment over his shoulder to you, “This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.” He puts his focus back on the forest, stalking to it, much more confident as he goes to find more prey, leaving you to settle down back to bed and wonder what the hells just happened. 

Somehow the relationship between the two of you wasn’t fractured at all after this incident, in fact you’d somehow gotten stronger, allowing him to take a bit from you on certain nights, when you knew he was probably desperate for some strength and he took every moment of it, relishing in the taste of your blood that coated his lips, feeling the strength rejoin his body. 

However, there was something different between the two of you than what you had with almost everyone else in the camp. As time went on, Astarion became the person you weren’t necessarily as close to. As much as you were still friends and he would still throw you the odd flirty comment every so often - you had touched everyone else in the camp, you’d fixed Karlach’s heat issue so you could hug her now, doing so whenever she’d ask you to, knowing how much she’d missed being able to be touched. You’d danced with Wyll multiple times, him teaching you everything he knew. You’d had Gail teaching you how to do some magic. All three of them telling you plenty about their old lives. 

But you and Astarion, whilst he’d told you parts about Cazador, about his past. The two of you had only ever touched when it was necessary. When you’d be helping the other up after a particularly rough patch of combat or patching each other up at camp if any of the magic wielders were unable to heal you guys through a spell. You’d only ever touched each other when you were close to death, never touching for any other reason than necessity. 

Sleepless nights would often plague you through the Shadow-Cursed Lands, there was just something about this place that would not allow you to sleep most of the nights. During these nights, your thoughts would often stray to Astarion, and the things he had told you. You wanted nothing more than to be able to help him with everything he was going through, but you would also often wonder why you two were nowhere near as close as you were to everyone else. Maybe it was because of that night, when he was going to drink your blood without even telling you first - you often wondered how you would have woken up when it was far too late, with his fangs already piercing you, and you wonder if he would’ve actually stopped or if he would’ve drunk enough to kill you - or maybe it was just simply just because you had different feelings for Astarion than you did for Wyll for example. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what these feelings were, but you knew there was something different between you. 

Your feelings were confronted one night, after a bad fight had happened only a few hours before at the Last Light Inn, your life nearly being lost to it. Whilst you were used to nearly dying in these fights, this one for some reason hit you harder. Shadowheart had healed you almost fully when you got back to camp, but something still felt wrong as you laid down on your bedroll, tears coming to your eyes before you stubbornly blinked them away, not allowing yourself to cry when all your companions were nearby. 

“Stupid question, but are you okay?” Your eyes snapped open, Astarion standing above you, a sympathetic look on his face, he still hadn’t cleaned the blood off his face which reminded you that you hadn’t either, your face feeling stiff from the blood drying on it. 

Sitting up, you responded to him, “No.” A small sob escaped you as you spoke, causing your cheeks to heat up in embarrassment. “I didn’t want to cry in front of any of you.” you chuckled sadly, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know why this has hit me so hard. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve nearly died.” you were confused as to why you felt like this. 

“You’re scared.” Astarion spoke, sitting down in front of you, a bowl of water now in front of him, a rag in his hand, “May I?” He asked gently, signalling to the blood on your face, 

“Please,” you whispered, your eyes scanning his face as he concentrated on getting the blood off you, being just aggressive enough to get the dried blood off but not too aggressive to hurt you any further. 

“I get scared all the time. Everytime we come back to camp after a bad fight.” he spoke gently as he cleaned you up, “All of us do. That’s what makes us human…” he paused, smirking playfully, “Well, that’s what makes all of you human.” You chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day.” 

Astarion gently pushed you down so you were laying, he moved himself next to you. Your body tensed up for a second as you touched, his body tucking in tightly behind yours, the first time the two of you had properly touched each other. “Relax. I’m right here.” He whispered, laying a lingering kiss below your ear. You drifted away to the sound of Asterion’s breath in your ear, the comforting sound of someone being with you, holding you, keeping the monsters away for the night. 

It was strange to touch each other without one of them dying, but maybe touch was also something for the living.

[zoloteh-volossya]

The Baldur's Gate Cast as the Elements of Harmony

Last night, spurred by whimsy and a little nostalgia, I decided to slam together one of my first fandoms with my current one. I present to you… the Baldur's Gate cast as wielders of the Elements of Harmony!

(Please note that I stopped paying attention to MLP:FiM after season 4, so my takes will not reflect later developments in the show.)

The Element of Magic

(Source for the Twilight vector)

This one's a slam dunk, a no-brainer (ironically). Both Gale and Twilight Sparkle are bookworms who were so gifted in magic that they attracted the attention of the most powerful magic user in their setting, who proceeded to lavish special attention on them while also sending them out on personal tasks. Both of them were so desperate to please this figure that they end up endangering a city/town as a result of their attempts to impress them. Both start their media franchises friendless except for a long suffering familiar who is in many ways more put together than them and feeds them (magic items). Both of them (can) end up becoming (quasi)divine. They're like mirrors of one another, separated by genre and species.

More to the point, as a magical prodigy and Mystra's former Chosen, Gale would be very well equipped to wield the Element of Magic.

If they ever met, I think Twilight and Gale would have a very interesting discussion comparing notes on their respective magic systems. Gale would probably be seethingly jealous that Twilight's respective magical mentor not only takes an active role in her development but actually actively ascended her to alicornhood. She's the physical representative of magic in her world, not nearly Mystra level but still a quasi-deity, and also an intensely curious person. His orb would be fascinating and incredibly alarming to her, while he might be a little leery of yet another goddess of magic.

The Element of Honesty

This one was also simple. Whenever you talk to Lae'zel, she gives you her thoughts plainly, without sugarcoating them or beating around the bush. Truly, no one else on the team is as worthy of wielding the Element of Honesty as her, and she would wield it well.

If they ever met, I think that Applejack and Lae'zel would actually get along pretty well (assuming that they did not meet in the middle of a gith raid on Applejack's orchards, at least). Both of them are straight talking, hard working characters who got good at their respective thing by putting in the effort. They also both share similar roles in their respective parties, as the strong, athletic, and somewhat competitive bruiser. Applejack's strong family focus might be interesting to Lae'zel, who has never had one (but expresses interest after meeting Jaheira's.)

The Element of Generosity

(Sorry for partially covering your face, Wyll, I wanted to block Mizora for the symbolism.)

Of course, if there's a member of the BG3 cast to represent generosity, it has to be Wyll. The man has dedicated his life and his soul to serving others, albeit in a very different way than Rarity does. He gave up his soul for Baldur's Gate, his humanity for Karlach, and is willing to give up his freedom for his father. He'd give a needy man the coat off his back and Astarion the blood from his veins. He is a worthy wielder of the Element of Generosity.

If Wyll and Rarity ever met, I think they'd be great friends. Wyll is exactly the sort of noble early-season Rarity dreamed of meeting in Canterlot - kind, honorable, charming, romantic. I think Wyll would really respect Rarity's industry and the lengths that she is willing to go to for others. She's a fashion designer, so she'd probably insist on gifting him the most fashionable saddles and bridles, which I'm sure the rest of the BG3 camp would find absolutely hilarious.

The Element of Laughter

One of Karlach's most notable traits is her ability to find joy and laughter in every moment alive and free, despite her horrific past. She is a buoyant force who lifts the spirits of everyone around her, and it is for this reason that every single companion (including Minthara) likes her so much. She exemplifies the spirit of the Element of Laughter as much as a character from this genre can.

Karlach and Pinkie Pie would get along like a house on fire. ("Let's throw a party!" "YEAH!"). They're both genuinely cheerful people, but they're also using that attitude to mask other, more negative emotions that they don't want to control their lives but lurk nonetheless. But mostly they'd party together like nobody's business.

The Element of Kindness

This is honestly the biggest stretch, but I'd argue that Shadowheart could represent the Element of Kindness if she goes the Selunite path. Her arc throughout the game is basically that of a woman whose innate kindness is struggling to emerge through many layers of mind wiping and indoctrination despite Viconia's best efforts. As a Sharran, she tried to befriend and adopt a mouse. Even when she is trying her hardest to be mean in acts 1 and 2, she still approves of kind actions by others. If you give her any support at all, she defaults to abandoning her driving dream becuase she cannot bring herself to be cruel enough. And once freed of her Sharran shackles, she begins to bloom into a person truly capable of weilding the Element of Kindness.

Amusingly, a post game Shadowheart who saved her parents is living pretty much exactly the same life as Fluttershy - a cottage close to but not in a rural town where they take care of animals. I think the two of them would be able to bond over their respective menageries.

The Element of Loyalty

Last but not least, we have the Element of Loyalty, wielded by… Minthara! I know y'all were expecting Astarion, but Minthara's first dialogue upon joining the party proper (if you slept with her) highlights her loyalty specifically.

*Her entire being joins with you for a moment, and you see all that she is. Dangerous, cunning, wounded, brutal, paranoid... and utterly loyal to those she trusts.*

And loyal she is. Become the Slayer? She's with you (and thinks you're exquisite). Become a mind flayer? She's with you without a flicker of hesitation. Control the Brain? She's with you (if you spare her). Don't control the Brain? She's still with you. Prance about the city being a goody two shoes to everyone you can help? She's grumpy, but she's with you. Once Minthara finds a purpose, be that a deity or a person, she stands by them with a singleminded devotion that makes her well worthy of wielding the Element of Loyalty in my view.

If Minthara and Rainbow Dash were to meet, Minthara would likely write Rainbow Dash off as a braggadocious blowhard until she heard about the Sonic Rainboom, whereupon which she would spend an hour trying and failing to convince RD to weaponize it. Rainbow would likely find Minthara a bit curt for her tastes. If she hears of Minthara's ambitions or more violent suggestions, she might ping Minthara as a 'bad guy' and pick a fight. However, Minthara canonically reads science fiction and Rainbow Dash enjoys adventure novels, so maybe they might bond over a shared taste for genre fiction. Befriending the villains is a tried and true staple of Rainbow Dash's genre, after all.

(What about Astarion, you ask? Well, the problem with him is that he is not very magical, a consummate liar, selfish, often cruel, not particularly loyal, and his laughter is primarily at others' expense. I'm sorry, but he's just not Element of Harmony material. He's got other things going on.)

(Halsin was a runner up for Element of Kindness. Shadowheart was just far more interesting in that role, so it went to her.)

[pursuitseternal]

Give young Astarion “Everything” in this nsfw, loss of innocence update to “Our Blood is Thicker”💞🗡️

Astarion xF!OC (Cordehlia) |E| 3.8K to lose their virginity

Summary: flashback dream to their last night together, their first time together, and the gift they give one another of everything…

CW: losing virginity, outdoor sex, flashback angst, present day wet dreams, and elven recall returning.

Previous Ch | Ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 12: Everything

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

“Astarion!” Cordehlia called, leaping off her couch in her antechamber and flying into his outstretched arms. He strode in, so comfortable and welcome in his intended’s home. Cutting a fine figure in his doublet of blue and burgundy. The colors Cordehlia always said brought out his violet eyes. He stopped quick as she saw him, waiting and braced to hold her the moment the door to her chamber opened.

He only gave that low, lingering chuckle as he spun them both around. “My darling,” he caressed her ear, planting a kiss on her smile, always so big to see him.

Even five years later since their betrothal. She was just as happy, nay, happier now, than the day he said she would be his.

He breathed, a self-satisfied smirk on his full and handsome face. Releasing her from his arms, he clutched her hands, both in his. Those fingers so smooth and tender and refined. Like the silks and satins she wore. “I just received word…”

“I just got…” she said at the same time.

“You go, my lady,” he faked a gentlemanly bow, pressing her fingers to his lips. “I shall wait with my news.”

“My dress, it has arrived, all the way from Baldur’s Gate. I think even your parents will approve of it. I can’t wait for you to see it, the stitching, the colors, the jewels, it’ll be perfect for our wedding…”

His eyes narrowed, brows softened. Guilt and regret twisting his face in ways he could not hide. Not that he had ever really been good at masking his strongest feelings.

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” Cordehlia held her breath until it burned.

“I… just received word…” his long, pale fingers held a neatly rolled scroll, red wax seal already slit and message already read. “They want me to start my studies to be a magistrate…”

“No…” she shook her red braids so hard, one fell. “I thought they didn’t accept you.” Her smooth voice choked.

“Mother and Father called in a few favors…” he kept his eyes on her face. “This will be good for me, for us. The chance to forge my own way, to make a name for myself out of their shadow. To gain connections and power and perspective so I’ll be twice the High Lord they are once they…”

“Good, cause you sound just like them,” she spat, folding her arms. “And you come bursting in here like that’s astounding news. Like I’ll be happy.”

His hands grabbed for her again, and despite the frown on her beautiful face, she let him. “Don’t you see, I’m doing this for you too. First, my beautiful betrothed, then my wife, the spouse of the most powerful Magistrate in the greatest city in Faerûn, and finally, High Lord and Lady of our people,” he gave one of his sultry, velvety smirks. “There won’t be a soul who wouldn’t kneel at your feet then, my love.”

She stayed rigid before him, those sweetened words teasing at more brilliant hopes and dreams than she dared to envision. “Astarion,” she warned.

“Just think, my darling, you’re in awe of one beautiful gown from the City,” he purred, bringing her closer into his arms again. “Now imagine a whole trousseau, a whole wardrobe brimming with the same or finer clothes for you, one for every day of the year…”

She stepped closer without truly realizing it. Or resisting it. Stopping only once they were belly to belly, hip to hip again. “Perhaps,” she breathed, her tone softening again.

“You would be the talk of the Patiars, the envy of all, my beautiful bride on the arm of the most powerful Magistrate, a title I finally deserve, deciding life and death, freedom and punishment…” his hands stole over her smooth, silken skirts, pressing her pelvis against his, pressure on the sweet curve of her ass in his hands until she could feel his growing arousal.

His desire for her, and for the future he had long dreamed of. It made him… hungry.

“I suppose my gown will hang waiting happily to be joined by other such finery. It’ll only take you a small matter of time to complete your studies and begin, I do not doubt,” she smiled again. Smaller and fainter, but brimming with pride in him.

“No doubt,” Astarion flashed his toothy smile back at her. “But…” he paused, growing still again. “…I leave in the morning.”

Her fingers clawed into the thick fabric at his elbows. “What?” she snipped.

“Term has already started, I can’t delay any longer,” he replied so matter of factly, her stomach sank to her toes.

“So, you’ve come to say… goodbye,” she breathed, face falling into despair before she buried her face into his chest.

His hand swept into the mess of braids on her head, petting through them softly. “We have tonight,” was all he could say, trying hard not to make his voice waver as it was wanting to as well.

She sniffled, hiding her slightly swollen eyes from his sight. Not that he had never seen her cry before, but… tonight felt different. Solemn. Significant.

“Well,” she swallowed, suddenly feeling very warm, very close to his body. “I don’t want to waste a minute of it then getting your clothes all wet.”

That rakish grin curled his lips. “Not with tears, anyway…”

Cordehlia choked on a laugh. “Maybe… we do something… special,” she barely spoke above a whisper. “Maybe… just maybe…”

“What do you have in mind?” he purred, hands sweeping over her back, down her ass to hold her by her hips against him again.

“You sneak into the larder, grab us a feast,” she flicked half a smile in his face. “I’ll take care of the rest. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

“So short a time,” he face screwed in humor.

“I said we won’t waste a minute of it.”

And she disappeared through the door to her inner chambers.

Astarion hurried on light and silent feet. He knew every inch of her house, the fastest ways in and out, the way to the pantry least likely to be seen. And just where the General kept all the good stuff. He grabbed a cloth, stuffing it with dried sausages and cheese, fruits and finally a bottle of Ithbank to share. Enough to sustain them… if they were about to do what he thought.

What he hoped. And indeed, it would certainly be… something.

His heart pounded, hands, usually so skilled, fumbled to tie the cloth into a sack without dropping a thing. Peeking around the corner, he slunk quicker and quieter than he ever had.

Despite the way his cock had grown stiff down one of his trouser legs at the mere thought of what this… something… might be.

He beat her back to her chambers. Setting down his parcel, he took a moment to… adjust himself. Swallowing the groan that came out as he pulled his length against his belly instead, he had to wipe his hand from how much he was already leaking. “Gods,” he cursed to himself.

“Something the matter?” she softly called from behind. He turned slowly, breath catching and eyes wide as he saw her. And he giggled. Her arms were full, blankets and flint box and a bundle of kindling weighing her down. But underneath, she wore that dress…

“You look so… beautiful,” he breathed, and he rushed to her to relieve her of those goods.

So soft as he brushed against her sleeves, the palest green of spring, studded with little pearls and gems bright and small like the stars. Thread, silver like her eyes, wove in patterns all about her body, like little clusters of constellations in the sky.

Cordehlia blushed as he met her gaze, her look was eager, excited, and… nervous, he thought.

“By the looks of things, we are going camping, roughing it, sleeping in the dirt?” he taunted mischievously, arching one of his rakish brows.

“Well,” she purred, clutching the blankets against her breasts and grabbing the pack of food he prepared before heading to the door, “I wouldn’t dream of giving you this… gift under my Father’s roof…”

Astarion groaned, hiding its source by shifting the weight of the kindling and flint box in his arms. But really it was the way her words sent the sharpest, hottest pang right to his groin. And he prayed to every one of the gods he wasn’t leaking into the cream of his tunic before he got to remove it at this rate.

Swallowing he followed her silently, recovering what senses he could as he trailed behind her hem. Once they slipped from the kitchen door, he took a breath of cooling summer air. “So, my darling, where are you absconding with me?” he crooned over her shoulder as they made their way through the gardens towards the trees.

“Not totally sure… maybe just a little patch of nowhere, just for us…”

Not as if she didn’t know every mossy bed in the trees around their homes, as if they hadn’t already stolen kisses and pleasured each other under almost every tree’s boughs in their five years together. As if the grasses hadn’t all been flattened by one or both of their backs as the other sucked or licked their lover in the moonlight…

But such thoughts were not helping the increasingly damp stick inside his trouser’s waistband.

She cut sharply to the left, deeper into the forest, just as he thought she would. Her favorite little spot, a gentle stream nearby, ready access to waters for when they would have to clean up after themselves. This time, he let his heavy-breathed sigh sound for her to hear.

Cordehlia turned, a knowing and desirous smirk on her full and pink lips. The moss here was extra lush, and she quickly began spreading her blankets around in a neat little bed. “Why don’t you start us a fire to keep warm?” she grinned, starting to lay out the provisions he had snatch.

He had never stacked wood or struck a flint faster in his life. Once the fire had taken hold, he wiped his hands together and turned. She stood bathed in starlight and flickering flames, her back to him, hair parted over one shoulder, her eyes soft and beckoning.

A silent ask for him to help her disrobe.

“Oh, my love,” he breathed, closing in on her, hands clasped at her bare shoulders where her gown already began to slide down her ivory skin. He lingered his lips against her neck, pulling her back and rear to brace against his stomach. His hips gave an unbidden roll against her ass. “What will it be then…?” his voice dripping with his desire as his fingers quickly tugged lace after binding lace from the stitching down her back. “My tongue between your legs?” he purred, a heavy sigh making her shoulders rise and fall beneath another tender kiss from him. “Your pretty, pink lips sucking my cock?”

This time she moaned, helping ease her dress from her arms and over her hips. Step by step, she turned to face him, kicking her dress out of her way. “I thought I said something special, something I haven’t done with you before, but… I’d like to…”

He wrapped his arms around her bare back. “You don’t have to, you know,” he said, steadily gazing in her eyes. “I would hate to leave you tomorrow with… regrets.”

“I think I would regret it more if I didn’t give you my…” she paused and blushed and turned to hide her sheepish smile against her shoulder. “My everything. Especially if we will be parted for a time.”

Astarion let his held breath ease slowly, his belly clenching at her coyness, his cock throbbing at her words. “Well, then, my love,” he stroked the breadth of his palm down her supple curves and rounded hips, “your… maidenhead is a gift I have been waiting for, and one I will cherish forever.”

“Cut the silken words, Ancunìn, and disrobe,” she giggled. She turned and thrust her chin at him, that same taunting, defiant smirk on her face he recalled from their youth.

“With pleasure,” he leered back at her, those deep violet eyes locked into her stare as his fingers flew through his clasps and buttons. He watched her chest rise and fall, her own gaze sinking down his front the more of his chest came into view.

She breathed his name the second those long fingers started to free his cock, already the thick pink head prodding out of his waistband.

“Cordehlia,” he returned the amorous tone. One hand tugged off his trousers and kicked off his boots. The other wound into the back of her head, pulling her panting lips slowly to caress his own.

He nearly tripped on his own pants, hurrying to get freed. Especially once those smooth, gentle hands of hers wrapped around his cock and softly palmed his balls. All at once. Tugging up, she steadied him with a laugh that tickled down his throat. “Easy, Astarion,” she whispered into his mouth, “we have all night, remember?”

“One we will never forget…” he growled, his voice so thick, it even surprised himself. They melted as one into the blankets, the scent of her skin and woodsmoke filling his every breath. Her body seemed to cradle him, wrapping him in her arms, clenching his middle with her thighs. That ivory skin even smoother than the Baldurian silks she stripped off just for him.

He wanted to taste her every lick, inhale her every breath, wanted to watched her every reaction to his touch all at once. His mind raced, years of waiting to finally join like this, and he couldn’t help but wish he had read more… done more to ready himself.

But her hands were already pulling him over her hips, her mouth already panting greedily for air as she bucked against him. This embrace was nothing new, he knew the press of her body, the warmth of her mouth and the grip of her hand. He was ready for more. She was ready to give him more.

Everything.

He stole his hand between her thighs, catching her drenched folds, wetter than ever as he parted them. But this time, after a few languorous circles of his thumb over her clit, he delved two long fingers inside her.

Her pulse raged, her muscles clenched taught at the welcome intrusion. They had played little games in their passion, just the brush of his cock against her entrance, just a shallow dip into its heat and warmth once or twice each time before she would squeal nervously.

But not tonight. He groaned to feel her shifting inside, around his fingers, hotter as he sank them deeper, as he withdrew them to thrust them back in a little faster.

As he joined a third finger to stretch that virginal thightness just a bit more before he…

“Gods,” he groaned, resting his head for a moment on the pillow of one breast.

“How does it... feel?” she sighed, her own voice shaking almost inaudibly as he kept a slow and steady pump of his touch.

“Perfect,” he groaned. “Tight and perfect…”

“And all yours,” she breathed and laughed. Her fingers gripped into his ass, urging him closer, so close his cock pressed into those seeping folds. He coated his length in her slick, holding his breath as he guided his own drenched head against her entrance.

He paused, looking into her face, her eyes half-shut, her teeth biting her lower lip, sight glued to watching the small space where they would join. “Please, Astarion,” she moaned, a slight buck of her hips, “I’m ready.”

He gave a slight nod, a gentle kiss into her panting belly, and then rolled his hips. Slowly, her wet and heat swallowed him. The pressure of her core on his head making his breath hitch in his throat, gripping him so tightly, he stopped. Glancing up, he drank in the blush on her cheeks and neck, the way her face squinted in that twist he had seen every time she came undone.

Cordehlia groaned, breath rapid. “Mmm, just a moment…”

He pulled back an inch, slowly sliding in more… and more. His thighs shook, his hips and body craving to fuck deeper, to bury himself to his balls and thrust until he felt nothing but her warmth and wet and pressure was his whole world.

Her hands braced on his shoulders. “Slowly,” she panted, hips screwing beneath him, wriggling for release. “But don’t you stop,” she moaned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he managed to reply, sliding back easily once more. Half-way in, and he pushed against that pressure that resisted on his head one last time.

Until it eased.

Until she sighed, arching her back, wrapping her legs. “There now,” she panted, trying to steady her voice as if she wasn’t being split apart by his cock. “All mine… all yours…”

Until morning… She pushed the thought from her wandering mind. Easy to do as he hung his head between her breasts and began to gently roll his hips once. And again.

His throat shook each time, little growls as he dragged inside her, back and forth. His breath was hot on her skin, shaking and unmeasured. As if he had been running uphill, but instead he gave little undulations of his hips that sent her careening toward pleasure so quickly through the stretching pain, that fire in her nerves as his cock split her thighs impossibly wide just to fit him inside.

He restrained himself, she could tell, fighting hard to control every little roll of his body between her thighs, every rock of his hips and slide of his belly across hers. Every thought in her mind focused on matching his movements, letting her muscles heat and open and relax to be finally so completely filled.

To ride one another so naturally, fit perfectly, pleasurably.

Arms wrapped around his neck, leveraging her strength as she arched when he hit some spot inside her channel. The cry from her lips made him pause, eyes wide at first in terror, easing to a smile and low laugh as he noticed how her own lips hung slack in a grin. Totally enthralled and consumed.

It was enough to throw him over the edge. But first….

He lowered his mouth, catching her nipple in his lips to give her a long, teeth-dragging suck.

“Ah…” she gasped and quirked and bucked as her whole body shook beneath him. Around him.

Every spasm of her channel squeezed him, sucked him harder than her mouth. Divine pressure that he fucked against, all control, all restraint gone. His own breaths deafened his ears, his own body riding into the ground beneath her, the pulse of his cock against her walls as he finally reached his climax. Too much to control now.

He groaned so loudly, chest collapsing on hers as he spilled into her, groaning and shaking and sweating until every last drop of cum emptied at last.

Still so hot and tight and wet. She sighed, grieving that splitting pressure the moment he pulled away. But he clung to her tightly, face buried in the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of meadow grass and sweet flowers that covers her skin. He managed to purse his lips on her collarbone for a kiss between dry pants. “I never want to do that with anyone else… not in this lifetime or the next,” he rasped, and he could feel her smile bloom across her face.

“Me neither,” she whispered a reply into the soft silver curls near her face. “But I do want to do it again… now…”

He barely lifted his head, that cunning, desirous smirk canting his handsome features. “Let a man get a drink first, insatiable vixen that you are…”

Astarion jolted awake, the thick air of the Cursed lands still in his nose. Not sweet meadow and woodsmoke. His back was ridged with scars, not nail marks from her clinging to him. His stomach growled in perpetual hunger for blood, not just the aching throb that did still exist between his legs.

But somethings were just like his dream… or was it his memory… was it her memory?

Cordehlia still laid beside him, their skin pressed against one another as they rested in trance. And then, there was the stick of his cum that covered his stomach and thighs.

Cum from his sleep, from his dream of their first time.

Silver eyes batted open, a smile on her face until she looked at his embarrassed grimace. “Oh, Astarion…” she cajoled softly, “did you… did you see my dream too?”

“What do you think?” he tried not to snap, hand trying to hide the way his erection still seeped his seed onto his belly. “That was… our first time…”

“Mmhmm, and I’m ever so glad it wasn’t our last,” she purred, flashing him that same little smirk of seduction before she stuck out her tongue, licking that trickle of cum from where it hung midair from his slit. He groaned, so close to needing more than that to find his release if he wasn’t careful. But Cordhelia gave him another sly little glance as she got up. “Let me help you get cleaned up, my love.” She went for the basin and a rag, wringing out the water before kneeling at his side.

The mighty vampire was still too mortified to watch, to take his arm from where it hid his face in the crook of his elbow. “I can’t believe I just did that…. Last time this happened was the last morning you had snuck into my rooms in the manor… how you had to borrow my cloak that morning to hide yourself as you snuck back after dawn since we got so carried away that morning after…” he waved his dexterous hand over his hips, “…this.”

“Astarion Ancunìn,” Cordehlia froze, rag mid-swipe over his balls, “are you… remembering?”

It smacked him from the inside. The perfect recollection of that morning, covered in his own cum, burning off his morning lust with her lips sucking him clean until he came again…

“Yes,” he replied, lifting his arm and sitting upright. “Yes, I am remembering…”

A sad, relieved, joyous smile danced over her lips. She fell on his body, trapping his face between her palms. Kissing him until he couldn’t catch a breath between her lips, not that he needed one to survive.

Not in the same way he needed her to survive now.

But he had one last little memory. “You never did give me that cloak back, did you?” he chuckled low in his throat, feeling her answering smile.

“Guess I can’t lie now that you are remembering…” she teased, keeping his face so close to hers, she never wanted to let go.

“No, you can’t, my love. You can’t…”

[punderdome]

The Fine Print

Ok, so this is the first of many things for me: this is my first fic, this is my first time writing romance (no I do not count whatever weird smut I tried to write at 13) , and I've literally never posted on Tumblr, so you're going to have to just help smooth the edges a little. I would love any amount of help, but here is my first chapter and it's a good thing it's SFW

Major edit: The exposition (Chapter 1) should read a little bit differently now and a lot clearer. Huge thanks to @bitethedevil, @a-true-neutral, and @mslanna for help with tons of different things like writing structure, POV, and tumblr in general. I was able to start many of their corrections for Chapter 2, but I went back and gave another round of polish for Chapter 1.

Read on AO3: [Chapter 1]

Synopsis:

Rapidly running out of options, Tav signing Raphael’s contract was the only way to free herself from the tadpole and defeat the Elder Brain and save her love from his eventual ruin. She should have paid closer attention to the wording of the contract before she signed it. Now, Tav gets more than she bargained for, and the devil has come to collect.

Chapter 1: The Devil's Den

The Devil’s Den.   She had met with Raphael many times before but was never filled with this much dread.  He was some sort of evil cambion bard, verbose but not foreboding, versed in iambic pentameter not ill-omen.  He was rhymes and lullabies, cherries and sulfur.  He seemed like he should be a character in a play whispering out his dastardly plans to the audience while standing on stage right.

The desperation of the Illithid voice in her mind raged and howled as she walked across the balcony to the ornate door carved with the likeness of a devil.  The rage shivered down every vertebra one after the other, demanding to be heard.  She refused it.

“What are we doing here?” Gale demanded.  “You can’t honestly want to make a deal with the devil.”

Tav eased him gently, running her hand down the Karsite scar on his chest.  “He helped Astarion understand the Rite, he might have other information at a price we’re willing to pay.”  She knew what he wanted the last time they visited: the Crown of Karsus.  Gale’s latest obsession.

“You know what he wants,” Gale pounced.  “He wants the Crown.”

“And my Prince requires rescue.” Lae’zel reminded him firmly.  “The perfumed trickster inside will provide us the means to rescue him for only a small price.”

Gale’s jaw clenched firmly.  Ascension.   She knew Gale thought that would solve all their problems.  In his mind they would be together for eternity, wanting for nothing, infinite in power.  Gale had dreamed of what Goddess that Tav would become.  At night, when they lay together, he told her of his imaginings of her as the Goddess of Regrowth.  The Goddess of Winter.  The Goddess of Snow.  She was all of these goddesses, currently residing in flesh in his mind, and he wanted her to pick one.  He would trace the path of her white scales on her human form and regale her with stories of how much they would shine when she was with him in Elysium.

“This deal will only spell trouble for all of us,” Gale countered.  “You will save your people from the Grand Design only to doom them further.”  Tav could feel the pinpricks of the Emperor’s eager agreement to her paramour, but she did not care to remind him mentally that he never gave a shit about Lae’zel’s people or any of them at all.

Raphael’s prior deal had been tempting.  They would gain the tools needed to defeat an Elder Brain and would finally be free from the looming dread.  The Grand Design would be over.  Raphael even promised to throw in a lavish dinner at the House of Hope at the conclusion of their adventure, allowing her band of mighty heroes to celebrate their victory in style.

Gale couldn’t ascend.  Gale couldn’t have that power.

Gale couldn’t leave her.

She took a quick look behind her and saw the panic on his face.  He was trying to hide it behind a mild scowl and his glorious beard.  Tav knew Tara hated that beard, but she melted every time the lips within went to her neck and the bristles tickled.  He quickly shook his head in warning not to knock at the door.

Tav didn’t want to lie to Gale, but she knew the terrible row they would have if she told him the truth.  She had come to read Raphael’s deal, and likely, sign.  Their terrible predicament would have a path to resolution.  A path to redemption , Raphael had called it.  Forceful eviction of their other tenant.   She had purposely left Wyll and Karlach back at camp, knowing how disapproving they would be of what was about to occur.  She wanted to have left Gale back as well, but he forcefully demanded that wherever his beloved went, so he too would go.  So, she reluctantly agreed to drag him along to a meeting that would break his heart and destroy his dreams.  The dread pooled deeply in her abdomen.  This was the only way to be free of the tadpole - or it was the only way that relieved the guilt at her lack of faith.

Lae’zel stood proud, eager for her to knock on the door and grant her the path to Prince Orpheus’s freedom.  When Tav hesitated, she urged her on.  Enter.  Go.

Tav could feel the sweat on her palms.  She took a deep breath and whispered silently to herself.  You know Infernal.  He won’t be able to trick you with hidden loopholes.  She researched Cania and Hellfire magic at the university, though sorceresses were often not accepted in academic circles.  Her research was about to be put into practical use, though she wished the stakes weren't so high.

Gale’s face had drifted from furious into stony.  His rage had hidden but not extinguished behind his eyes.  He knew they were there about the Crown, despite whatever story she tried to tell him. 

Tav ignored his gaze and placed three firm knocks on the door.

She had to do it.  Gale would just have to deal with the consequences.

“Come in,” the deep voice purred from behind the door.  Tav opened it and entered.

“Ah, my most cherished client.” Raphael’s face was smug.  He was wearing his human guise and gave a grand gesture of welcoming with a smile.  “Please, please, come partake of the Devil’s Den where we have no shortage of sins to enjoy.”

Raphael strode to his desk, crossing his legs as he lounged in an ornate chair behind it.  He gestured again to three ornate chairs opposite him.  Tav seated herself in the center, but both Gale and Lae’zel elected to stand.

“Now tell me,” he purred.  “What can I do for my most favored client?”  He cocked a brow and leaned back, relaxing into the silence.

Tav wasn’t going to be put on the back foot so early into a negotiation.  She leaned forward and rested her head in her hands.  “I thought you always claimed to be a good host.”  Raphael’s eyes narrowed before widening again with a smirk.  He snapped and a bottle of wine appeared with four goblets.  He waved and a mage hand poured and served each glass.  Tav took hers but the the mage hand had to leave the other two in front of Gale and Lae'zel.  Tav and Raphael each took sips from their own goblets, but the ones before the other two were left deliberately untouched.

“I imagine you are not just the famished coming to feast, but there is a reason you have come knocking at my door.” Raphael countered, now that his abilities as host could not be challenged.

“We have come to deal,” Lae’zel finished for her.  “We have come to negotiate for the Orphic Hammer.”  Raphael’s brow lifted quickly and his smug smirk brightened.  Tav stiffened, and she thought she could audibly hear Gale turn to her in betrayal and anger.  What she had wanted to hide from him was now completely out in the open.  She was going to accept the devil's deal.  Tav tilted her head slightly to Gale and saw his face completely red and his hands shaking.  His eyes were forced closed.  Tav winced at how much this must be hurting him.

“Aha!” Raphael exclaimed triumphantly.  “Are you now?” His voice held a cocky musicality.  He always knew they would come knocking at his door, and as much as it hurt to admit it, he was always right.

“Yes, Devil.  We have come to negotiate for the Orphic Hammer," Lae'zel repeated, becoming more annoyed and impatient at Raphael's lazy interactions.

Raphael turned to Tav directly, still holding her goblet and asked again.  “You are the only one with whom I wish to make a deal.  Are you here to make a deal with me?”  Smugness radiated off of him.  Tav paused, and Lae’zel gave her a look that was surely going to result in Gith expletives if Tav wasn’t forthcoming.

She swallowed and refused to look back at Gale who was likely trying to summon multiple Scorching Rays into the back of her skull.

“Yes, Raphael, I am here to make a deal for the Orphic Hammer.”  Tav spoke plainly, knowing that any attempts at subterfuge would result in a much more complicated contract to read when the actual signing came.

Gale immediately stiffened, and she knew she there was no way to deny that she had lied to him on several occasions.  She knew him well enough to understand that his fears were contorting and consolidating into a verbose rage that probably would require a dictionary the morning hence.  He stormed out of the Devil’s Den to return to camp without another word spoken between them.  Tav hadn’t wanted him to be here for this, and she felt a heavy pang of sadness that he had decided to join.

“My Little Mouse,” Raphael started, the excitement in his voice palpable.  “Then I believe we should get started with the contract I prepared.”  He snapped his fingers and a pitch black piece of parchment appeared in his hands.  Even in his human guise, his grin widened and his eyes glowed.  Tav felt like she could feel flickers of his cambion gaze break through his glamor.  He handed her a document aglow with the fiery runes of an Infernal contract.

“I had this prepared for you, in hopes you would return.”  Raphael rolled up the scroll and passed it to her.  She unfurled it, starting to read the runes within.  The infernal script danced in front of her as she tried to parse its meaning, but this wasn’t her first time reading and translating Infernal language.  She rolled it out fully over the desk to get a better scope of what legalese awaited her.  Raphael leaned over, amused at her reading.  Her fingers traced firmly over the runes, reviewing the translations.

“Do you require assistance?” Raphael taunted.  He leaned back in his chair again, waiting for a reply.

“No.”  She didn’t need his help.  He would have demanded additional clauses if she agreed to any additional services.  Raphael would never do anything for free.  The devil always received what was owed to him.

Lae’zel was waiting eagerly but impatiently.  Her armored boot tapped against the wood floors of the Devil’s Den.  Tap. Tap. Tap. Orpheus. Tap. That energy seemed to radiate from her impatience.

Tav blinked and took a deep breath, hoping Raphael wouldn’t notice the momentary lapse of focus.  His brow raised slightly, before he relaxed again, appearing disinterested.  The language was intentionally complex, written to confuse rather than educate.  She took her time and traced each rune.  She occasionally sipped at her goblet while ruminating on the meaning held within the runes.  They were sharp and jagged and angular - nothing like her Common language writing which was looping and gentle.  As with all Infernal text, the true meaning was held deeply within.

Raphael’s smile widened as she persisted.  His Mouse was a clever one.

“Shall I translate?” Raphael taunted.  They both knew that he had to be honest in their dealings, but every moment of weakness would set her back some sort of irrational and irritating demand of his.

“Raphael, I am only taking my time.” Tav breathed in and out deeply, internally trying to regain some sense of control over the accursed document while remaining calm in front of the accursed devil.  The distracting foot taps from her Githyanki colleague were not helping.

“Of course, my dearest Mouse, we have all the time of the Hells.”  Raphael sat back and continued to drink his wine.  He studied her with uncomfortable concentration as she continued to read.

“Crown for Hammer… Unable to invade mortal realms…” Tav started to roughly translate aloud as she read her contract.  Raphael raised an eyebrow but didn’t say another word as her monologue continued. “Soul collateral… Tavara Aureum.”  Tav looked him straight in the eye, though she was numb from so much horrible legal writing.  “Why just my soul?”

Raphael checked his nails uninterested in her question.  “Why would I want the others?”

“Are they safe from you if I fail?” Tav responded nervously.  The Little Mouse was fatigued and nervous, and Raphael found this state delightful.

“Would you like them to be collateral, my darling?” he responded again, still uninterested in her concerns.

“No,” Tav responded firmly.  Lae’zel gave an affectionate and approving noise, though it seemed more like a tut than a hum.

“Very well.”  Raphael finished falsely examining his nails and continued to watch his favorite client read.  She paused at the bottom of a page on some sort of footnote referencing an appendix.  Oh Gods, how many appendices did he include?

“Something wrong?” Raphael challenged.  The Mouse bit.

“No,” Tav fought back.  She thought back to all of her wizard colleagues who disregarded her because of her innate sorceress gifts of winter and storms.  Ignorant sorceresses could not study Hellfire.  Dragon Children were too spoiled to be able to truly understand Hellfire.  Raphael clearly believed in the same fashion that Little Mousies could not understand his writing.

There was one clause that caused a multitude of rereadings.  She had a hard time deciphering it and didn’t know its meaning.  “Pater….” she almost tried to sound it out, the rest of the word huddled in her chest, locked in ice.  “Pater…” she repeated again.  It was part of a line, a subclause for Raphael’s duties to her.  He had agreed to protect her something something pater something.

Tav could do this by herself, and she definitely didn't want his help.  He was not going to translate, and he was not going to read it to her like she was a child. 

Raphael watched her intently.  Lae’zel’s foot tapped impatiently.

“Give me the quill, I’m ready to sign,” she declared triumphantly.

Wordlessly and with an unreadable expression, Raphael handed her a quill and ink.  Lae’zel’s eyes burned through her as she signed the contract.  The resident devil clasped his hands in joy before snapping and handing Lae’zel the Orphic Hammer.

“Thank you,” Tav deadpanned, fatigued and still frightened of Gale’s reaction.

“Thank you, Devil.” Lae’zel didn’t bother waiting for a response before heading back to camp.  She was out of earshot before Raphael responded to her.  Delight was a new look on his face that she had never seen before.

“You are most welcome, my Lady.”

*****

When she returned to Gale at camp, he was hiding: fuming in his tent.  Tav approached him, hoping she could lure him forth so they could speak.

“Gale, please come out.  I want to talk,” she pleaded quietly, so the entire camp couldn’t hear her.

“You didn’t want to talk before, and I certainly don’t want to talk now,”  He bit back angrily.  She paused, sadness biting at her and a horrible feeling of tension lay beneath her sternum.

“Please, Gale.  Please talk to me.”  Her voice became lower, and before she realized it, she was softly begging him to leave his tent or welcome her inside.

The reply became short and stiff.  “There is nothing for us to talk about.”

“Gale…” she took a sharp breath.  “I did it for you.”

Incensed, he sharply stood up and ripped the tent flap open to stare at her in the face.  Fat tears were rolling down her cheeks and her look pleading.  Mocking, he raised his voice so everyone could hear him.  “For me?  You threw away everything that I wanted and dreamed of.  You discarded all of my gifts and all of my ambitions for what ?” His voice was now a shout, emphasizing his final question.  All of her companions in the camp turned to stare at the two of them.

“Prince Orpheus!” Tav could hear Lae’zel call from behind her.  Gale’s face became red and angry.  He was obviously not expecting a third party to intrude.

“My love,” Tav pleaded, her voice missing the any confidence she might have had at her negotiations with the devil.  The confident, competent front she wore meeting with Raphael had eroded, leaving behind only a weak vulnerability.  Tears continued to fall, freezing on her cheekbones when they hit patches of scales.

“Do not call me your love.  I gave, and I promised.  You took, and you keep taking.  You stole godhood from us, Tav.  We could have been together for eternity.”

“Gale, Mystra would have ended you.  I couldn’t let her hurt you.”

“Why will I never be good enough for you?” Gale challenged.  He prodded his finger at her, which lightly struck the sensitive patch of scales on her chest that mirrored his own scar from the Orb of Karsus.

“You were always more than enough…” Tav continued to cry, but her pleas went unheard.  Gale’s face became red again and he turned away quickly.

“I will help you defeat the Elder Brain, but then I never want to see you again, Tavara Aureum.”  He threw his hands up in a grand gesture of exasperation.  “I’ve wasted too much of my energies on you.  We will get rid of these tadpoles, and then that’s the end of us.”

“Gale… Waterdeep…” Tav started to wail.  Some sort of dam inside her broke, her magic swirled angry and chaotic.  Her fingers crusted with ice that she could no longer control.  

“When all of this is over, I am going back to Waterdeep.  You are not coming with me.” 

Gale retreated back into his tent, closing the flap with an unmistakable huff.  Tav slowly retreated back into her tent, gingerly closed the flap, and lay motionless on her side for some time.  Long after the darkness was heavy in the sky, she continued to cry hail on her pillow.

[amethysts-tavern]

He's doing it again...

OK y'all, be gentle with me. This is the first fanfic I've ever written. And the first time I've shared any of my writing since, well... since longer than I gather many of you have been alive.

I aim to write fanfic that is accessible to all, so this is *VERY* PG. There's one swear, one kiss, and a lot of angst. Likely not my last story exploring this idea of the MC having a secret too.

I hope you enjoy.

_____________________________________________________________ “He’s doing it again,” you hear Karlach’s sing-song voice come up behind you as you’re walking to your camp after a particularly gory fight at the goblin camp.

“Who’s doing what?” you ask the fiery tiefling who has quickly become your ride or die in this misfit adventuring party of yours. Sure Shadowheart and Lae’zel were nice enough some of the time… to be honest, you don’t really like either of them all that much on a personal level, but they are good to have at your side in battle. Karlach, though, she is your tribe. Unapologetically herself at all times, has an unquenching thirst for life, and is blunt as a brick.

“Really? How do you not see it? Did that tadpole make you blind too?”

“Really, darling, it’s more obvious than an ogre in an elf costume,” Astarion joins your gossip sesh. “We all see it. Some of us even think you should go for it. Others of us, like myself, throw up a little in our mouths when we think about it.” He plays it cool like he doesn’t care at all about any of you, but deep down you know he does, even if it’s just for a juicy rumor. You knew a lot of people like him back home, so navigating his sass wasn’t difficult for you.

“What are you both talking about?” you start to get frustrated with all of their vagueness.

“She really has no idea,” Astarion suddenly realizes.

“Gale,” Karlach stage-whispers to you. “He has been eyeing you since we left the grove.”

“What? He has not,” you try to shrug the thought off, but are secretly wishing that what they were saying was true. The moment you met the awkward wizard, something in you was set aflame. You had been hoping that no one had noticed you also stealing glances whenever you could. It didn’t seem right to find any sort of happiness here, amongst all of this. Your days of bloodshed and struggle did not lend themselves to nights of intimacy and love, after all. Try as you might to push your feelings aside, they would creep back up every time he’d say your name or have an excuse to touch you as he brushed past or magic missile any thug who dared take a swipe at you. Knowing of his affliction didn’t quell your feelings any. Everyone has their secrets after all.

“And don’t you think we haven’t noticed you, either,” Karlach says, knowingly.

“You haven’t said anything to him, have you?” you are suddenly terrified that in their mission to get the two of you together they have, in fact, blown any chance you might have.

“I wouldn’t dream of it…” Astarion trails off before suddenly becoming much louder, “Oh Gale, our fearless leader wants to talk to you,” the pale elf smiles wickedly. “Oops,” he waves at you before taking off. 

Your eyes grow wide, your feet frozen in place, unsure of what to do next. You turn to beg Karlach to stay, but she’s already up ahead with the others. 

“You wanted to speak with me?” Gale is suddenly next to you, his smile soft and welcoming, like a warm hug. What is it about this wizard that turns you to a pile of goo?

“Um, hi,” you say, smiling awkwardly, suddenly very aware that you are covered in goblin guts, sweat and gods know what else. You look back at him, feeling like a timid deer, seen just before it darts back into the forest.  

After a beat, Gale starts the conversation back up, “I’m glad our companions called me over. There was something I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Mhm,” you squeak out, wishing that your heart would stop trying to leap out of your ribcage.

“We’ve been traveling together for a while now, fighting alongside each other, trying to rid the world of the Absolute,” his eyes twinkling more than the conversation should allow. 

You hope that you’re not giving anything away by biting at your lower lip. Maybe that will hold in the words you are too scared to say. 

“Anyway, I was hoping you might join me for a bit after dinner. Away from all of this,” he gestures to our party.

Your heart is about to make a break for it, but you will it back into your chest and tuck it in nice and tight before responding, “That would be lovely, Gale.”

He exhales deeply and his smile widens, his eyes sparkling even more than before. “Oh good. I was nervous you were going to say no. Tonight, after dinner, come to my tent. We’ll find somewhere quiet.”

You start to breathe normally again, your heart calming down to purr like a small kitten rather than a full grown puma. You smile genuinely, “I look forward to it.”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles back before turning to catch up with the others. You are left standing alone, a good way behind your party, wondering what just happened.

 ~*~

You find a good place to make camp not long after your conversation with Gale. You take the time to clean yourself up in a nearby stream while the others busy themselves setting up their tents and getting out cookware to make the evening’s meal. You’ll never get used to the feel of an enemy’s innards being plastered to your hair. It feels good to wash the day’s trials away in the flow of the water. It’s no warm bath, but you feel mostly clean and refreshed afterward. You pull your linen shirt over your head and make the short walk back to camp. When you return to your tent, Karlach is waiting for you.

“Well?” Karlach playfully punches you in the arm.

“I think we have a date tonight after dinner,” you say, entirely unsure of yourself now that you say it out loud. Did you read the situation correctly? Is that what this was? 

“Ah, see! Didn’t I tell you?! You two will make the cutest babies, all pudgy and pink.” It’s your turn to swat at your bestie. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Karlach. I’m not even sure that’s what this is. Maybe he just wants to talk about fighting strategy or how to rid ourselves of these worms.”

Karlach looks at you like you’re out of your mind. “C’mon, soldier. You know what he wants.” She raises her eyebrows in a teasing manner.

You scan the camp to find Gale finishing his tent set up across the fire from yours. He beams at you when he notices you staring.

Karlach shakes her head. “Seriously, soldier, what happened to you? Why don’t you think you deserve to be happy? Why don’t you think you deserve to be loved?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern. 

The question hits like a gut punch. This tiefling knows you better than you know yourself. “It’s a long story for another time,” you tell her after a beat, sounding a little more defeated than you mean to. 

She doesn’t press the matter, but follows up with, “because whoever made you think that is wrong. You deserve everything in this fuckin’ life that you fuckin’ want.” You know her well enough to know that she’s being completely sincere right now. You thank your lucky stars to have found a friend like Karlach.

“Thank you, friend. Truly, that means the world to me,” you reply, blinking hard to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. 

You stand with your confidante for a brief moment, a deafening silence between you when she pipes up again. “Aces! I think the food’s ready,” Karlach exclaims, seeing that you need an out from the conversation. She’s always good like that.

~*~

Dinner is a hearty venison dish, courtesy of Wyll and Shadowheart. After the filling meal, many of your companions conveniently find their way into their tents for an early night’s rest. Karlach gives you a thumbs up before heading into her tent. Watching each companion pull their tents closed, your heart starts to race again thinking about your impending meeting with Gale. You close your eyes and inhale a calming breath before putting one foot in front of the other and making your way over to his tent. He’s sitting outside, face buried deep in a book when you arrive. You clear your throat quietly to announce your arrival. He looks up, slightly startled, but soon relaxes again. 

“Welcome, welcome. Let me just…” he trails off searching for something, “Ah!” He picks up a broad leaf and gingerly places it in the book where he left off reading. “For another time,” he says, stowing the book in his tent before turning to you. “Shall we? I found the perfect spot for us,” he extends his arm for you to take, making it easier to guide the way in the pale moonlight. You step closer to take his arm. He smells like a posh library: cedar and paper. The smell is intoxicating. You wrap your hand gently around his proffered arm, the material of his tunic is soft, but the muscle beneath is more defined than you would have expected. Surprisingly, by taking his arm, your nerves are all swept away and you are able to fall in step with him rather easily. 

The conversation is light as you walk, the destination not far. You arrive at a clearing with a cliff overlooking the valley below. He was right, the spot is perfect for a quiet conversation. He pats your hand on his arm and motions for you to sit. You mourn the loss of being able to touch him, but do as instructed. The wizard sits next to you, close enough that a shift in weight would brush your legs against each others’. He sits in quiet contemplation for a moment and you look over at him, not sure how to start the conversation. He is so beautiful when he’s deep in thought. He gazes into the horizon, his brown curls catching the starlight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breath. 

After a moment, he starts, “I’m glad you agreed to come with me tonight,” he says quietly, just above a whisper. Is he about to tell me bad news? You suddenly feel a stab of nerves again. He continues, in that same soft voice, “I enjoy being in your company. From the moment you grasped my hand to pull me out of that stone, I’ve felt a closeness with you. I can’t explain it; but I would like to explore it, given the opportunity. You make me feel safe and not just in the heat of battle, although that is very much appreciated too. There have been more than a few times… I’m not even sure where you come from or how you know; but there you are, right by my side every time I need you the most.” 

His gaze turns to you, his visage softer than you’ve ever seen before. “I feel that together we can accomplish anything. And that is a powerful feeling.” He takes your hand in his; his grasp strong, but his skin soft. His fingers are not calloused from twanging bowstrings all day like yours are. You sit like that for a moment, your hand in his, gazing out over the valley together. “You’re awfully quiet. Please tell me you feel the same and I haven’t just made a fool of myself,” he breaks the silent tension.

“Gale…” you start, turning your body to him to grasp your still held hands with your other.

“Ah, well…” he cuts you off, pulling back his hand, convinced that you’re going to turn down his advances.

“No, no. I do. I do feel the same. Every last bit of it,” your voice urgent, but barely above a whisper. “It’s just…”

Gale turns to take you in, noticing the apparent worry on your face. “Just… what? You can confide in me. You can tell me anything.” You gaze into his eyes and you know he’s right. You could tell him anything and he would continue to be by your side. You break his gaze and stare up into the vastness of the night sky, looking at constellations you don’t recognize.

“...I’m just not sure why you’d want me. I’m certainly no goddess. I’m sort of a walking disaster,” you say. You’re not one to readily admit to being less than perfect at anything. Admitting weakness and self-doubt to the man you yearn to be with terrifies you to no end. 

Gale frowns briefly, “You say this to a wizard with a magic-consuming orb encased in his chest.”

You both chuckle, breaking any tension that remained. “OK, you got me there.”

Gale takes your hand once again. “You are right though, you are not a goddess. You are real. And smart. And honest. And kind. And good.” He kisses your hand lightly, punctuating each statement. “You brought our merry band of misfits together in this fight against a powerful evil. You even got Shadowheart and Lae’zel to not be openly hostile with each other. And I find that very admirable.”

He reaches a hand to lightly brush a loose strand of auburn locks from your face, your hand rising to meet his touch. You lean your cheek into his palm. The intimacy and tenderness is almost more than you can bear. In that moment, the entire world stops. Thoughts of your insecurities, your comrades back at camp, the threat of the Absolute, the fear of being killed any moment - it all dissolves from your mind. Right now there is only you and Gale and the starlight. 

You sigh lightly, contentedly, and close the gap between you, timidly placing your lips on his. They are soft and warm. He tenderly returns the kiss. Maybe Karlach was right. Maybe, just maybe, you did deserve to be happy just this once.

[astaribun]

Any body but me

Fandom: BG3

Pairing: Tav x Astarion

Rating: E

Tags: Trans!Tav, Transmasc!Tav, Tav is stealth, Tav has had top surgery, Tav has had no bottom surgery, Pan!Astarion, everyone is anxious, and traumatised, angst, fluff, dysphoria, Trans affirming, (vampire) bite kink, I have a thing for fangs clearly, (im)proper use of tadpole mind-link, bratting begging, orgasm control

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

Oh gods, the consequences of my own actions, Tav thought. Flirting with Astarion had been fun and, honestly, hard not to with how this sassy Elf encouraged it at every opportunity. His dreams, when not taken over by the guardian, had been full of Astarion in all kinds of ways. From romantic picnics to wet dreams to nightmare rejections, Tav'd truly not had a moment's peace since the abduction and the tadpole in his head wasn't even the biggest cause for gods' sake.

And now he was hopelessly tangled in the web Astarion had spun for him. A web which felt so much tighter now that it was clear your favourite vampire wanted to sneak off to the woods to have sex. Most people would probably be ecstatic, but Tav was worried. He had so far avoided any need to disclose he was trans and relished in being treated as just one of the guys. But what would happen when they undressed and he didn't have the parts one might expect? A rational part of him chimed in that surely Astarion had slept with a trans person or two before, but the dysphoria and fear were so much louder.

---

At the same time Astarion was dissociating in his tent, also worried about having sex with Tav. This was all his plan and yet... He'd only ever done this in service of Cazador, bringing people back for him and to their doom. For his plan to work he had to use his body one or two more times and get Tav on his side. Sweet enthusiastic kind Tav who'd shown him he could break Cazador's rules, who'd kept offering him his tasty blood even though he'd practically attacked him that first night.

Maybe Tav would help him if he just asked? No, no one trusts a vampire, not truly. Tav must be doing it because it made him stronger. And because the poor Elf boy was falling for his seduction like so many before him. But then why did his heartbeat spike in fear at his proposition? Oh hells, could Tav be a virgin?! He had better be gentle, after all, he had to keep Tav on his side at least until he could have his revenge on Cazador.

---

And so when Tav finally walks up to the clearing with legs made of jello and a stomach ready to cast acid splash he is greeted by a shirtless Astarion whose smug look falls off his face in seconds. He rushed to cup Tav's face. "Are you alright darling? this seems like more than the normal amount of nerves," he muses.

Fuck, Tav thought, if he hadn't asked I could've just held it in. Instead tears well up and he starts shaking. "I-", his voice cracks, "Iliedtoyou", he blurts out. Well, it's not inaccurate, but gods is it a terrible way to start this conversation.

"Wha- what do you mean?", Astarion asks, "do you not want this? me?" Although it's subtle, a twang of pain slips out on that last word. The plan can't fall apart already! Did he push too much? Picked the wrong target? Hells why does nothing ever go his way.

No words seemed right, his head too loud to think, and time ever ticking on, Tav did something most likely stupid: He kissed Astarion, catching them both by surprise. Though when they regained the ability to think he found himself pushed away by Astarion.

"What in the hells are you doing, you better start making a lot of sense real fast" Astarion exclaimed. Tav wiped away his tears and took a small step back. "I'm sorry, I do want this- you- us." He stuttered. "But?" Astarion asked. "But I'm trans."

"Gods, is that all? Here I was worried it was something like you being..." He trailed off clearly catching himself about to say something he didn't want to admit, "some monster using a disguise spell or something".

Well, that wasn't the reaction he expected. "So you don't mind that I don't have the parts one might expect on a guy?" Tav asked, his voice already steadier. "My darling boy, I am well versed in all configurations, you needn't worry your pretty little head over something like that," Astarion said reaching out and petting Tav's hair gingerly.

With relief washing over him Tav felt ready for tonight for the first time and while their first kiss hadn't been ideal there were hopefully many more to have tonight. "So do you still wanna do this?" He asked sheepishly, not having enough courage to press his lips to Astarion's again without an invitation.

"Of course, I clearly need to create better memories for you than whoever or whatever made you worry so" Astarion spoke in that same sensual whispery tone he always used. He placed Tav's hand gently on his chest and cupped his face with the other pulling him in for a kiss. At first slow and gentle and then hungrier, fangs dragging across Tav's bottom lip.

Astarion gently tugs at his shirt and Tav lifts his arms to help get it off. A few more chaste kisses before Astarion starts trailing them down Tav's neck and chest, giving special attention to the ageing crescent scars, on his way to where pants now block his path.

In wordless command, Astarion tells Tav to strip and lay down, getting undressed himself while watching intently. "I'd like to taste you", he purrs, "may I?". With a small chuckle, Tav replies "You've tasted my blood before, Astarion~". Rather than answer Astarion got on his knees and pulled Tav closer.

He kissed and nibbled the inside of Tav's tighs first, enough to leave a mark but never to draw blood. It was torturously slow and it dawned on Tav what his plan was. He was going to have to beg, wasn't he? Fuuuuuck, maybe he should've just said yes, he thought, but then I wouldn't have had this...

If Tav thought it was bad then he was wrong. As Astarion got close to Tav's pulsing wet pussy he made sure to let his breath pass over the sensitive parts screaming to be touched and nothing else always going just around, waiting.

"Astarion-", Tav breathed, "please", arching his back looking desperately for friction. "Ah ah ah, say it," Astarion grinned, "tell me what you want." He then stopped his teasing touches completely to look up at Tav from between his legs.

Tav couldn't look at him as he spoke "Taste me, touch me, fuck-" , but something made him look directly in those deep red eyes as he pleaded "please, Astarion, I need you". And gods was he rewarded. Finally, those lips went from torture to pleasure and Tav couldn't help but moan.

Astarions tongue skillfully hitting his clit in an almost hypnotic pattern was driving Tav mad. However, the insecurities crept back in as they tried to convince him that Astarion couldn't possibly see him as a guy right now. Who could when they had a mouth full of pussy and heard the high-pitched moans no voice training could change.

Just as all the built-up pleasure was sinking away a voice pierced the loudness in his mind. "Bad boy~" The instant heat roaring through his whole body blew away the doubts as just those words said oh so dominantly. "Stay right here with me and just feel" Astarion added as he lightly grazed Tav's sensitive folds with his fangs.

What could Tav do but obey? He was safe in Astarion's mouth and hands and those were skilled indeed. Spurred on by Tav's renewed enjoyment and pleased with his new tadpole party trick Astarion upped his tempo and started alternating between licking, sucking and gently nibbling at the clit. Until, finally, when he felt how close Tav was giving him one final command: "Come for me, pet."

Tav came, hard, crying out Astarion's name. He felt miles away while Astarion savoured the taste of his success. The sexy bastard was still licking his lips when Tav started coming down into his body again. When he met Astarion's gaze the vampire spoke, out loud, "Such a good boy for me~". And that was the last push Tav needed before he got to his knees and pushed astarion over and onto his back. "Fuck you," he growled. "I just did, darling~," Astarion replied, smirking.

Seeing him laying there so casually, erection standing tall, eyes still hungry in a way that was so different from when he wanted his blood was not something Tav could've prepared for. But boy was he going to make use of it. And if that was part of Astarion's plan he didn't care, he was having fun and felt safe, so why not?

Tav gracefully crawled over Astarion and tasted himself on Astarion's lips. A hand found its way into his hair as the kissing turned passionate and downright dirty. The perfect time to stealthily line up and instantly sink down on his dick. The moan that elicited was oh so sweet and left those fangs he knew so well perfectly on display... Tav couldn't help but give a little squeeze.

In response, Astarion quickly buried his teeth into Tav's neck and started thrusting ferally. Whether intentional or not, the familiar tinge of the mind link sent raw words and feelings straight gay to Tav who sent his in return to create a feedback loop of pleasure and desire as they rode and fucked each other in animalistic instinct. Neither of them lasted long before they climaxed together and collapsed in contentment.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Magnificent

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 643 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: Bhaal worship, mentions of Y/N past, hurt/comfort, angst, comforting Astarion

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

Astarion patted the damp cloth over your sweaty forehead. You’d been ill for days but it seems the worst of it was now as your fever tried to break. You laid on your bedroll as Astarion kept watch over you. You stretched, your shirt riding up and revealing a long scar under your stomach, stretching hip to hip.

“What’s that?” Astarion asked, shocked to see such a large scar, he had never seen you without clothes but how could he have missed that?

“A story from a lifetime ago.” you said quietly as you ran your finger over the scar.

“Well I love a good story, and you aren’t going anywhere so… enlighten me.” he said, getting comfortable next to you.

You sighed, “It’s a rather sad story, are you sure?” you asked, adjusting yourself nervously.

He nodded, you let out another sigh before starting, 

“I… had a lover once. They were… Perfect. I couldn’t see the atrocities they caused, so blinded by love. And once I found out… I never stopped them… The horror was for love… The things I did for love like that… It was maddening. Full of sweat and regret. That love burns you, maims you, twists you inside out…” you paused letting out a shaky breath. “It was a monstrous love. And it made monsters of us….”

Astarion wiped the stray tears off your cheek, you hadn't realized you were crying. You sniffled, “I couldn’t remain like that… couldn’t bear to be the thing parents warned their children about at night. I couldn’t serve Bhaal just for love. Maybe it never was love… When I left, I was given a parting gift,” you motioned to your scar, “a friendly disembowelment that wasn’t to be survived.”

You sat up, taking the wet cloth from Astarion and hiding your face in it. You kept the cold rag on you, finding relief in it. You felt a hand wrap around your wrist, slowly pulling your arm away from your face. Your eyes met his. 

“Centuries have passed since and yet… I feel those deaths. All by my hand. Deserved or not. I couldn’t stop myself until it was too late. All for…” you hiccuped at the end, unable to finish. 

“Love…” Astarion whispered as he pulled you into his chest. “People do stupid things for love. Naturally, that's why I avoided it.” he laughed slightly, trying to lighten the mood. “But I understand… I must have brought Cazador thousands. Knowing I was leading them to their doom.” he rubbed your arm, trying to comfort you.

“That’s different, you did that to survive.” you argued slightly. 

“You survived too… Love may make us fools, but it can also make us victims.” he said, tilting your face up so you could look at him. “Victims of a dream. Where nothing and no one can harm you. Just you and your love, forever, in perfect bliss. They always draw you in with that dream, and then, it’s too late. You’re swallowed up in their plot. The things we do out of survival are not always pretty, but they have a purpose. Don’t consume your soul with guilt for things you had to do.” he brushed away a few more tears, kissing your cheeks. 

“I forgave myself a long time ago. But I’ll never be able to forget what I’ve done… a monstrous love…” you whispered the last bit.

This was the first time Astarion was hearing all this. You were much older than he, and he had yet to discover every little thing about you. That was going to take time, just as it did with him. “What kind of love will we have?” he asked, caressing your face. 

“Magnificent?” you asked, not finding a word adequate enough to describe what you felt towards Astarion.

He laughed, a good hearty laugh, “Magnificent indeed little love.”

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope you guys like this, just a little something something. Still recovering sickness wise but doing better. Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Talk soon XOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!

[alpydk]

Cabinet of Oddities (Part 7)

More Gale which we all love. I have a plan for where this is going but I end up changing the ideas as I write. Hopefully, it all goes well though.

Ao3 link Ao3 link (Full)

Summary: Gale tries to talk with Nana through the only method he knows - the weave.

For the next few days, Gale’s mind spun. He wasn’t sure if it was the tadpole taking over his brain, and maybe he had imagined seeing Nana transform that night, or if it was the orb causing him moments of delirium from the pain it brought. Each morning he would wake to find a new magic item left by his tent door, silently dropped during the night. He was grateful and would try to thank her but after requesting that she quieten down previously she had become more withdrawn entirely. Each night she would wander into the forest alone and he would see her transform under the moonlight, each time as brilliant as the last. She would sit either staring at the night sky or she would talk to herself. He would hear her struggles, her hopes, her dreams, and each time he would want to approach her. But as the nights passed this became more and more impossible. How could he disclose everything to her now?

As sunset fell he felt he had to start up a conversation with her, he wanted her to stay with them tonight. He wanted to apologise to her, not for the way he had spoken to her, but for the way he felt she had been dismissed. He knew all too well what it was like to be placed into a box, to have expectations put upon him, to most of all be ashamed of who he was. He wanted Nana to be safe with them, to not have to hide who she was, no matter how strange, or mysterious. As she stood to leave for the evening he spoke out. “Nana, don’t go.” His voice sounded so much more needy than he had intended and he coughed slightly to shift the nerves.

Nana turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden request. She looked around at the other members of the party for confirmation. Karlach smirked knowingly, sensing the spark between the two of them. Astarion frowned as he had been enjoying the peace. He felt that it had been easier to handle Nana without being interrupted every two seconds by whimsical dialogue, and it had certainly been easier to think with it now being quieter. In some small way he’d started to become fond of this new dimmed version of her. Nana sighed unsure what to do.

“Please, at least spend some time with me this evening, rather than by yourself.” Gale’s voice was soft and welcoming. He gestured over to his tent. “If anything, I would like to discuss something with you.”

Nana’s eyes lit up, she bit her tongue to avoid saying the things swirling in her mind. Gale. Alone. Tent. Instead, she simply nodded and headed in the direction he pointed.

Gale stood and signalled his departure to the others. “Go get her” Karlach playfully spoke, giving Gale a huge grin. He gently shook his head and approached Nana who waited patiently for him.

“Nana,I- I wanted to apologise.” His tone was genuine and he considered placing a hand on hers to show how heartfelt this was. He however resisted, remembering the times she had rejected his physical touch, and instead chose to stand watching her, his eyes fixed on hers looking for any expression of forgiveness. 

“You don’t need to, Gale.” She looked down at her shoes, embarrassed that he should be the one apologising. “I understand. I was too much, and I’m trying to be better.” 

Gale felt hurt by her reply. That she felt that she should change or try to improve on who she was shocked him. “No, Nana, you don’t need to be better. You’re perfect as you are.” He forgot himself and reached for her hand and took it in his own. He wanted to feel the softness of her skin. He wanted to show that he wasn’t put off by her, that he wasn’t scared of her.

Her lips curled into a gentle smile and the green eyes she wore seemed to lighten up. She slowly pulled her hand from his grasp though and saw the look of disappointment pass across his eyes. “Sorry… I just. It’s difficult to explain.” She paused trying to move on from the feelings stirring within her. “Thank you though, for the compliment. It means a lot.”

Gale nodded in recognition. “So you will start regaling us with your thoughts again, or at least regale yourself some more?”

She looked away and chuckled. “I’m sure I can manage something.”

An uncomfortable silence built up between the pair. Gale didn’t know how to broach the subject of the knowledge he had discovered and Nana could feel her pulse quicken simply at being close to him. “Nana, do you know anything about magic?” He chose to go with what he knew. The Weave, Mystra, spells and incantations. 

Nana shook her head. “There was a time when I had some idea of how it worked.” Her eyes seem to glaze as if a far-off memory had come into view. “That’s a very long story for a different night though, one with more wine, otherwise currently, no. I rely on my bow and my survival instincts and that’s really it. Why do you ask?”

“If you are willing, I’d like to show you something. You see, magic is my life. There’s nothing like it.” He took a pause trying to come up with the best way to explain it to her. “It’s like music, poetry, physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses.”

“We have a very different idea of magic then. I seem to remember it being brutal and painful.”

He frowned at her description. “I suppose for some it can be like that. But in my life, it has been entirely different. I’d like to show you what I mean by having us reach into the Weave together.”

“And it’s safe? I’m not going to be teleported elsewhere and lose a hand or something?” She gave a nervous laugh not knowing what to expect.

Gale smiled back reassuringly. “It’s quite safe. I’ve done this many times before, and besides, if anything goes wrong, we can stop at any moment. It’s no trouble at all”

“If you’re sure, then yes. Show me the Weave.“ She approached him cautiously.

Gale smiled. Finally, a chance to show a level of trust with her, to help them both communicate on a level deeper than mere words. “Then follow my lead.” He moved his body close behind hers watching her gaze as he took the steps. He kept a respectable distance from her, hoping not to make her feel uncomfortable. With ease, his hands danced creating a purple spark from his fingertips. She was mesmerised. She couldn’t take her eyes off them as they moved, imagining the effects they could have on her body. “Now you.”

Nana snapped out of her trace with a look of confusion. “What do you mean “now you”?”

“Repeat the movements just as I did. You can do this.”

Nana heard the confidence in his voice and with some very stiff motions managed to generate the same spark of magic. It took all her strength not to start bouncing in excitement at what she had achieved. She focused her mind on the unusual feeling in the air, it was pleasant but unknown to her. Like the poems, she had read on love and comfort. She quickly looked into Gale’s eyes, the sensation growing each moment she was caught in their depths.

“Now for the verbal components. Repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao”

He watched her repeat the words curious if this was just a natural skill of memorisation or a form of mimicry that came with being a changeling. He’d be able to connect with her soon enough and then they could share their feelings openly. He could tell her that he knew but not just with words but his feelings. That he still cared about her, despite what she was. He just had to be patient for a little longer.

A quick glow of the weave around them, the feeling of intimacy growing. A sliver of Weave that tasted sweet on the tongue. Now would come the final but the easiest challenge. Simply having her open her mind to the weave, opening it to him. “I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can.”

Nana hesitated for a moment. Harmony? She pictured moments from her life, the swamp, him, but nothing would stick. There had been no harmony to picture in full, only brief glimmers of moments such as this one. She stumbled back a little, her skin brushing against Gale’s hand and her concentration wavered. The sensation around them flickered before vanishing completely. She turned her head disappointedly towards Gale.

He gazed back at her, a brief moment of sadness as if something important had been lost forever. “It looks like magic’s not on the cards tonight. Perhaps I’m not quite the teacher I fancy myself to be”

Nana could only apologise. She felt as if she had let him down, and had failed to do something that had meant so much to him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened.” She looked away from him ashamed of what she had done.

Gale could only try and put her mind at ease. This isn’t at all how he had expected the evening to go but with magic, there was always a small chance that something would go wrong, especially with someone inexperienced. He regretted that he hadn’t communicated what he knew about her naturally but now was again not the time to discuss it with her. “Don’t blame yourself. Mystra can be a fickle mistress. Coy to a tee.”

She gave a small smile of understanding. “I have enjoyed tonight though, being alone with you. Maybe, we could try again another night?”

“I’d like that,” Gale spoke with a small blush. “You see, I’m not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity.” His tone was quiet. He spoke to her with a genuine sense of longing, that he wanted to be alone with her, not just for magic items, and mindless conversation, but to get to know her, body and soul. “Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You’re one such event that, one day soon perhaps, I’d like to embrace.”

The floodgates opened in Nana’s mind. “Embrace?” Her face turned a shade of scarlet at the idea, his hands running over her body, the softness of his fingertips upon her thighs, his tongue entwined with hers. “Your tongue- I have to be somewhere else right now.” She stumbled out the words before she could say anything else that might get her into trouble.

Gale simply chuckled at the effect he had on her and let her go. There would hopefully be another time to talk with her, one where he could be honest too and reveal everything about his condition and about Mystra.

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 27 of 28, 18+)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

CW: There is EXPLICIT SMUT in this chapter.

Act I - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Act II - Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | 

Act III - Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 (18+) | Part 28 (END)

AO3 Link is here, my love.

Word Count: 5,624

——————————

Act III, Chapter 6 - The Return

Astarion stood at the dock, staring out over the water. The silver moonlight shone brightly, as if it wanted to cheer him on. It was a full moon too, just like it was when they defeated the Netherbrain. 

It felt like a lifetime ago.

He had come here every night, sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for a whole hour, just… waiting. And every night, he left feeling a little disappointed.

But tonight felt different.

Yesterday, as the sun rose in the sky, he had hummed a song he remembered, a song she had sung to him. The melody had lulled him into what he thought was a reverie. But he had fallen asleep. And he had dreamed.

He had dreamt of her.

So he stood at the very same spot where he had last seen her, looking out over the water, and for the first time in a while, he hoped.

Against the soft, rhythmic splashing of the waves, he could almost hear her voice, a warm, rapturous melody that made him feel like he was sitting in front of a cozy campfire, with her sitting in his lap as he sipped from her neck, savoring her warm blood. He could imagine her taste, sweet on his tongue, lingering like honey wine, warm and soothing, just like her. 

The singing in his mind grew louder.

“Gods, it’s like she’s right here,” he mumbled to himself. “I’m losing my damn mind.”

He was so sure that he was going crazy that he didn’t even question when the water at the foot of the docks began to swirl in a whirlpool. But as it grew bigger and faster, he began to step back, away from the edge of the pier.

Then he stopped. Her voice was getting louder.

The whirlpool glowed for a moment, then an intricate circular rune began to appear above the water, lines steadily being drawn in a light blue hue that was very familiar. Hope bubbled in his heart like a spring.

Magic crackled in the air as the lines drew out the rest of the pattern. The circle closed and there was a flash of bright light. He covered his eyes against the supernatural glare.

He heard a soft thud and opened his eyes. He blinked.

In the echoing silence, Astarion said her name like a prayer.

***

It was strange, suddenly being back in Toril. You weren’t sure how much time had passed on this side. After all, a whole year had passed for you. But when you looked up, you saw Astarion standing before you, looking a little more pale than you remember. He called your name, like a supplication, and you nearly cried.

As your fey form faded back to your human form, you leapt into his outstretched arms.

The two of you held each other tightly. Nothing short of the end of the world would tear you two apart.

Finally, you moved back so you could see his smiling face, keeping your arms around him. “How long have I been gone?”

He tipped his head in confusion. “Twenty-eight days.”

You blinked. “That’s it?”

He frowned. “Why…?”

You stepped back. “I… I’ve been in the Feywild for a whole year.” You started to cry in relief. “I thought time went faster here, I thought everyone would be gone!”

Astarion pulled you back into his arms and pressed his forehead against yours. “It’s alright, darling. I’m here.”

He let you cry for a little while before he pulled back. “Well. You’ll have to tell me all about your year away,” he said as he stepped back and offered you his arm. “We have a lot to catch up on, it seems.”

***

As you walked with him to his home, he told you briefly about the others. Wyll and Karlach had left for Avernus together a couple of weeks ago when Karlach’s engine started to give out. Shadowheart and Gale had moved to Waterdeep. Jaheira and Minsc were still around in Baldur’s Gate. Halsin had taken the orphans in the city and left for Thaniel’s lands.

“I’d like to let them know I’m back safely,” you mentioned casually.

“I’ll write to them,” Astarion said, just as the two of you reached his home. It was a small townhouse in the city that had belonged to one of the murder victims of the cult of Bhaal. No one wanted to claim it, so Astarion took it, and had been slowly patching it up.

He opened the five locks on the door and opened it with a flourish, guiding you inside with his hand on the small of your back.

The ground level was bereft of any furnishings. A plain foyer led to a small kitchen and pantry, with a small side room and a door to a stairwell on the other side. The stairs were honestly a bit of a mess with chipped stonework and sharp edges on the steps.

“What’s upstairs?”

He shrugged. “Nothing much right now.” 

You took a quick peek with his permission. There was only a small room on one side of the hall and a covered balcony on the other that faced the river. It, too, was empty, with dust and cobwebs everywhere.

This place needs some work.

However, once you followed him down to the basement, you were a bit in awe. 

The stairway opened into a cozy sitting room, minimally decorated with a rug and some cushions for lounging. You noticed that some ornate daggers were displayed on a mostly empty bookshelf. There were a few colorful tapestries hung on the wall to give the room a bit of life, and a small fireplace to keep it warm. Against the wall across from the fireplace was a chaise lounge, a throw blanket haphazardly tossed across it.

There were two other doors for the washroom and bedroom. The luxurious washroom had two sinks and a tub large enough for two, with a door that connected to a grand bedroom with minimalist, stylish decor. There was a king sized bed covered in black silk sheets, and night stands on either side with two drawers each, clearly stuffed with knick knacks and jewelry. Bookcases lined two of the walls, floor to ceiling. They were only half filled.

“You have a lot of shelving,” you noted, looking at the empty bookcases on either side of the door leading back to the sitting room. “Planning on collecting more books or knick knacks?”

“Perhaps I’m waiting for someone else to fill the other half.”

You turned to look at him, and his shy expression made your heart skip a beat. Somehow, he always seemed so much more attractive to you when he suddenly showed signs of being a normal person instead of a charming rake.

“Perhaps someone would take you up on that,” you commented as you followed him back to the sitting room. He led you to the cushions in front of the fireplace and sat down with you.

“Shall I?” you asked with a grin.

“If you could,” he replied.

You sang your fire cantrip, and you noticed that he was watching you with a content smile on his face. As you watched the wood burning, listening to the crackle and pop of the embers, he curled himself around you and held you close.

“How did you know that I was coming back?” you asked.

“Just a hunch.”

You laughed softly at him using your own line.

“But I really did,” he insisted, though his pout wasn’t making it any more believable. Then he took your hand in his. “I dreamed of you. You were singing on the dock in the full moonlight, and you turned to me and waved for me to come to you.”

“I thought you didn’t like to dream. How did you even fall asleep in the first place?”

He turned away, looking a little embarrassed. “I… I hummed your song. I was surprised it worked, to be honest.”

You blinked. Then you laughed. “Will wonders never cease?”

“Gods, I hope they do. I just want to laze around in bed with you for a whole week.”

“I still need to eat, you know. And find some way of making money so that I can eat.”

He huffed. “I can make enough for both of us.”

You looked at him curiously. “And what have you been doing while I've been gone?” 

His eyes glittered with amusement. “It turns out that if you kill bad guys, you can get away with murder. And no one wonders when their bodies suddenly disappear.”

You grinned mischievously. “So you're telling me you've become a hero of the night?”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Stop that, you're making me sound like one of those blasted romance novel protagonists.”

Cackling with merriment, you patted his knee. “I'm actually quite proud of you, despite my teasing.” 

Astarion held you close. You could feel his happiness, like sparkles of light on the edges of your own emotions. Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed happily in his embrace. 

After a few moments, a serious question came to mind. “Do you miss the daylight?” you asked quietly. 

He shrugged. “It was… hard, at first. I hate to admit it, but Wyll and Karlach helped me… accept my circumstances. If not for them I probably would have been a wreck for much longer.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

“And I’ll forever hold a grudge.”

When you frowned, he smiled and tapped you playfully on the nose before he leaned down and nuzzled you. “I’m joking. You were trapped in another plane. I can hardly blame you.” He sighed. “It'd be nice if I could find a way to not burn in the sun. I haven't given up, but I've come to accept the shadows as a part of me.”

You smiled at him, so proud of his growth. So proud, in fact, that you hesitated to tell him that there might be a way. 

He picked up on your silence, however, as he searched your gaze. 

“You're thinking about something.” He tapped your forehead. “What did you learn in that Feywild?”

You swallowed. You hemmed and hawed. But finally, you decided to tell him, and trust him to make his own decision. 

“There might be a way to prevent you from burning in the sun.”

“Weren't you already doing that? Before”—he gestured with one hand—“you disappeared.”

You shook your head. “That wouldn't have lasted more than a day.” Mother chastised the hells out of me when I told her what I was trying to do. “There's… another way.”

He stared at you for a few moments, observing your expression. “You sound hesitant.”

You took a deep breath. “Because you’re not going to like it.”

“Try me.”

You wrung your hands nervously. “You… you’ll have to bind yourself to me. With a seal.”

“Oh. So like a warlock. Is that all?”

You looked at him in panic. He doesn’t understand. “It’s not the same! Because I’m not a full archfey, my… mortality… affects how the pact works.” 

He raised an eyebrow.

“It means that you are linking your life to mine and keeping me anchored to this plane so that I can stay in Toril when I use spells more powerful than a cantrip,” you quickly explained. “But I'm mortal. At some point, I'll pass away. And when that happens, your life, which is tied to mine, will end too.”

He was quiet for a moment. “And this will let me walk in the sun?”

You shrugged. “It might. My mother thinks it should, in theory. But she wasn’t sure because a vampire spawn has never contracted with an archfey before.” And an archfey would never contract with a vampire, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Astarion hummed in thought. After a few moments, he nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

You were a little shocked. “Wait, you’d bank your eternal life on a maybe?”

“I have the freedom to make my own choices.”

“But I’m mortal! You have forever—”

“I told you. I’m not afraid to die. But to live forever without you? I don't even want to consider it.”

Ugh, I knew he was impulsive. You swallowed. “This goes for me getting killed too.”

“Then I’ll just have to protect you.” He paused. “Does it work in reverse? If I’m killed…”

“I’d just be released from the pact,” you replied, noting that he sighed in relief at your answer. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Never been more sure of anything.” He took your hand. “So bind yourself to me.”

Smiling, tears in your eyes, you held his hands tightly. “We’ll have matching seals,” you said as one last ditch effort to get him to reconsider. “You’d have to live with that fashion faux pas for the rest of your life.”

“Hmm, well, when you put it that way…” He laughed. “Come now, do you honestly think a small thing like that will stop me from wanting this? When can we make our pact?”

“Erm…We can perform the ritual tonight, since it’s a full moon. Otherwise, you have to wait for the next one.” You wrung your hands again. “Are you sure?”

“Stop trying to delay this.” He tipped his head. “Unless, you don’t want this?”

“I…” You paused. Did you? Astarion waited patiently for your answer, but you could tell he was getting worried by your silence.

Do I want to be with him for the rest of my life? Yes. Of course I do.

You took a deep breath. “I want this. I just want to be sure that you do too.”

Astarion smiled. “I do.” He leaned in a bit. “So. How do we do this?”

You got up and led him to the bedroom.

“Oh, is this one of those sexy rituals?” he asked as you took off your shirt.

“Not really,” you half-lied, even though your mouth went dry when he followed suit and removed his own shirt. Gods, he really looks like he’s sculpted out of marble. You took off the rest of your clothes, dropping them on the ground before kneeling down on the cold stone floor in just your underwear. You patted the spot in front of you. “Kneel here, please.”

“So polite,” he said with a smirk as he removed the rest of his clothes and knelt before you. “Not that I mind, but why must we be dressed in only our underwear?”

“In case our clothes catch on fire.”

He raised an eyebrow. 

You shrugged. “We’ll be fine. I think.”

Astarion let out a soft huff. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“No.”

He blinked. Then he shrugged. “Well then. I guess we’ll fumble through this together.”

You slowly straddled his lap, his eyes going wide for a moment, but he didn’t stop you. You took his hands and placed his right palm against the small of your back, his left hand covering his right. You did the same to him.

“Whatever happens, whatever burning sensation you feel, don’t let go.”

He nodded, understanding. Staring into his eyes, you began to sing.

My strength will be yours

Within this seal I weave onto thee

Our hearts will combine into one

I will forever be with you

Tonight, our souls meld

Our fates aligned by breath and by blood

Let our lives be ever intertwined

Bind us always in starlight.

Astarion winced as the rune began to take hold on the small of his back underneath your palm. You could feel the same rune on your own skin, like a burning quill, drawing an intricate pattern into your flesh. When you felt the circle finish, you let out a sigh of relief.

“It is done,” you said, leaning back and moving your hands to his shoulders. “You want to see?”

He nodded, and you got off his lap and turned around. Reaching down, he traced the circle’s lines with his fingers. “And the same rune is on me?”

“Should be,” you said, shifting around to kneel behind him. “Yeah,” you confirmed as you touched the light silver-blue seal. “We match.”

He turned towards you, and you realized with a sudden rush of heat to your cheeks that he was quite happy. His exuberance was making a sizable bulge in his underwear.

“Darling,” he purred, leaning closer. “Perhaps we should celebrate.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. “We’ve yet to enjoy each other, now that the world is no longer coming to an end.”

Yes, it was time. A mixture of eagerness and nerves made you tremble slightly as you nodded.

Astarion smiled and stood, holding his hand out to you to help you up. Hand in hand, he led you to his luxurious bed, playfully pushing you down and straddling your thighs. You expected him to lean down and kiss you. Instead, he took your hands in his.

“This will be a first, being with someone I truly care about.” He held your hands delicately, as if you would break under the slightest pressure. “I don't even know where to begin.”

“We could start with a kiss, perhaps.” You smiled shyly up at him. “This is new to me too.”

His eyes widened, but you quickly clarified. “I've had a few awkward fumblings hidden away in closets and storage rooms, nothing… Real.”

“Oh darling,” he said, sounding eager. “Then consider this your real first night.”

He kissed each of your hands tenderly before setting them down gingerly beside you. His gaze became intense as he leaned down, his body covering yours. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling his sculpted muscles, his smooth skin. When your lips met, he let out a soft moan as he slowly drew out the kiss, gently nibbling your lower lip before coaxing your mouth open. Your tongues met, hesitantly at first, but the kiss grew deeper, your breaths quicker as his hips moved against yours.

Your legs opened on their own, just so you could feel the brush of his body against you more intimately. As he leaned down to nuzzle your neck, he hooked his hand under your knee and spread your legs even wider.

“My sweet witch,” he murmured in your ear before playfully biting your earlobe. “Will you give me a treat?”

“Did you say please?”

He smirked. “Please,” he asked in a low tone.

“Alright, since you asked nicely,” you replied breathlessly. 

He let out a deep, knowing laugh before he let his fangs graze along the sensitive skin of your neck. “Gods, I’ve missed you,” he rasped before he bit down.

You let out a soft cry as the pain and pleasure mixed in your mind. His hips rolled, rubbing himself against you in a most pleasurable rhythm, and you lifted your own hips to meet his pace, the thin cloth of your panties growing wet. To your surprise, he released you from his bite after only a small taste, kissing your wound before lifting himself up to meet your gaze.

“Saving some for later,” he said when you gave him a questioning look. His eyes fluttered shut as he licked a drop of blood from his lips. “I want you fully awake for what I’m about to do to you.”

Your cheeks heated with the implication. Oh goodness. 

His hands grazed the neckline of your bra, his finger lingering at the laces that kept it intact. “Shall I take these off for you, my dear?”

“If you can,” you said with some sass.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Perhaps.”

His eyes narrowed as he deftly undid the laces with one graceful pull. “Easy,” he purred as he lowered his head to nuzzle between your bare breasts. His gaze stayed on yours as he lightly skimmed his fangs across your skin before taking a nipple between his lips. As he gently sucked and pulled on one, he teased the other with his forefinger and thumb.

You let out a pathetic little moan. 

He chuckled. “Sensitive, are we?” Shimmying down your body and laying kisses as he went, his lips reached the hem of your panties. Without breaking eye contact, he bit the fabric and pulled it halfway down your thighs.

“You’re already so wet, my love,” he murmured as he propped your ankles over his shoulder. “Are you so eager for my touch?”

You were. You could feel his lust, pulsing like a living thing, and it was doubling your own desire. “Feeling how much you want me is heating me up so much.”

He grinned as he pulled your panties off and flung them over his shoulder. Then he held your legs against his chest, pressing his cheek to your calf. He closed his eyes for a moment before turning his head to kiss it tenderly. “Good. I want you to feel every bit of it.”

Taking your legs off his shoulder, he spread you wide. Bending down, Astarion laid a trail of kisses up your inner thigh. With his face between your legs, he grinned. “All of that nectar, just for me.”

You forgot how to breathe when you felt his tongue against your core. He masterfully pleasured you, alternating between delicate licks and taking in your bud between his lips and sucking hard enough to make you scream. He was making your insides coil up, the tension building with each touch.

He brushed against your folds with his finger, caressing your bud with his thumb as he moved up your body, kissing a wet trail up your stomach, around the curves of your breasts, along your collarbone. He nibbled playfully at your neck before lifting himself up on one elbow to look down at you.

You felt his finger penetrate you as he stared, watching your reaction. 

You gasped as he pushed deeper.

“Darling, you’ll need to loosen up,” he teased. “Or I’ll never fit.”

Oh gods. Your breathing hitched at the thought.

“Did the thought excite you?” He pressed another finger into you. “Of me spreading you open, taking you, claiming you?”

You whimpered with need.

He laughed, low and deep. His fingers moved faster, his thumb stroking your core with more pressure. He watched you carefully, making sure every touch brought you to greater and greater heights, until you felt the dam finally burst under all the delicious pressure. Pure bliss flooded your body, and you let out a strangled cry.

“Astarion!”

“Good girl,” he murmured. “So good, coming for me.”

Then he slipped a third finger inside of you while you were still spasming, and you shook with the intrusion. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, slowing his strokes as you came down from your high. You spread your legs wider for him, your hips jerking forward to meet his hand.

“Who knew? My sweet little witch was secretly a wanton temptress.” Kissing the corner of your lips, Astarion pushed himself completely up and away from you with a knowing smirk. With your eyes glued to him, he peeled off his underwear.

Your eyes must have bugged out, because his smirk became extra arrogant. “Like what you see, my sweet?”

You nodded. But you were a little concerned. He’ll never fit.

As he crawled back over you, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I can’t wait to sink into you. I’ve been waiting forever for this.” He kissed you again. “Waiting forever for you.”

You felt the tip of him nudging your entrance.

Oh my goodness. He’s…

He pushed. You winced. He stopped.

“Deep breath, darling.”

You obeyed.

“That’s it, that’s my sweet love,” he coaxed as he pushed a little further inside. “You feel so good, better than heaven.”

He slowly rolled his hips in a steady rhythm, and with every stroke, he sank a little deeper into you.

Fuck, he is so thick, he’s splitting me open.

His attention was so hyper focused on you that when he finally hilted inside of you, he paused, watching you squirm underneath him, his mouth slightly open as if he wanted to take a bite.

“Look at you, so helpless under me,” he murmured. “Giving me your trust.” He kissed your cheek tenderly. “You do trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” you said in a breathy voice. “Make love to me.”

He laughed softly. “I was going to use the word ‘fuck’, but if you want it sweet and gentle, I can do that for you.”

His hips rolled slowly as he built up a steady rhythm, making sure you felt every inch of him as he showed you how much he loved you.

But after a few minutes, you could tell he was ebbing in and out of being present, and you held his face in your hands. “Astarion?” you asked gently.

He blinked, his gaze refocusing on yours. “I’m here, my love.”

Something isn’t right. This isn’t quite what he wants. “What do you want to do?”

Astarion glanced away for a moment before giving you a smile that you knew was a lie. “Whatever you want to do.”

You ran your hands through his hair soothingly. “I want you to be happy. I want you to tell me how you want to make love to me.”

He stared at you for a moment, his hips slowing and finally resting himself inside of you. “I…” He trailed off, swallowed, and tried again. “I’ve always had to… perform, for the sake of others. But with you… I just want to ravish you, darling.” He leaned down and nuzzled your cheek. “But I don’t want to hurt you, either.”

You could feel the hot pulse of his desire and shivered with the depth of his need for you. Oh. Oh my.

Astarion lovingly kissed your jawline. “I want to fuck you so hard you forget where you end and I begin. I want to be so lost inside of you that I never want to return.”

With a fluttering breath, you wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your ankles into the back of his thighs. “Then take me the way you want to,” you whispered.

He lifted himself up onto his haunches and grabbed your hips. You only had a split second to realize what his smirk meant before he rocked his hips and slammed into you, pushing all the air from your lungs. You gasped and began to make helpless, breathy noises as he fucked you as hard as he promised. He reached down with one hand and cupped your cheek tenderly, a clear contradiction to his ravishing thrusts.

“You make me so happy,” he said before he fell upon you again, slipping one hand between your bodies. His fingers rubbed your core as he nestled his head on your shoulder. You could feel his breath against your neck as he spoke.

“Will you let me bite you when you come?”

“Yes,” you breathed, unable to deny him anything.

“Thank you,” he said against your skin, his tongue flicking out as if he was tasting your skin, preparing to bite. He pressed his lips against your pulse and kissed you gently, even as he was thrusting into you even harder and faster, making his eagerness to both come and to drink from you readily apparent.

You were out of breath with his continuous pounding, so you reached up and touched his cheek, just as he looked directly at you. A blast of passion came through your empathy, and you moaned helplessly from its onslaught, the intensity of his gaze making your heart thump even quicker.

He smiled knowingly. “I just felt you tremble around me. You’re close, aren’t you?”

You nodded, unable to use your voice.

He gave you quite possibly the sexiest little grin before taking you with even more vigor, stroking you rapidly. “Good girl. Come for me, please,” he rumbled.

For whatever reason, that was enough to make your body ignite. You swear you saw fireworks behind your eyes as your climax took you hard, shaking you down, making you scream out Astarion’s name over and over like a prayer.

He purred more praises, coaxing you through your completion. You looked at him in a haze of bliss and noticed his pupils were blown out. 

“My sweet treat,” he murmured before he licked your pulse and bit down on your neck.

Your vision went black, then pure white in half as many moments. Pleasure erupted from your neck and your core, and you swear you came again, your channel throbbing and squeezing around him.

Distantly, you could feel him letting go of your neck, hear him cry out as he thrust once, twice, thrice more before stilling, his hips crushing yours against the mattress.

“Fuck,” he rasped, staring down at you. “You are fucking amazing.”

He rolled over and took you with him, draping you over his body as you caught your breath. When you finally looked up at him, you noticed he was staring through you. Reaching up, you cupped his cheek.

“Are you with me?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, even though he didn’t need to. Perhaps it was the comfort of the motion, since his body didn’t need the air. When he opened his eyes once more, they were solidly focused on yours.

“Yes. I’m here with you,” he whispered as he leaned his cheek into your touch.

You knew he was telling you the truth, that his mind was in the present. You could feel that bubbling affection, a fountain of fondness that enveloped you, made you feel cared for, made you feel seen. “Will you be alright?”

His smile flickered for a moment. “There were a few moments when… I wasn’t here. But I came back on my own. It… may take a bit of time, but I think I’ll be alright.” He hugged you tight. “As long as I have you to return to.”

You hugged him back. “I’m glad. I’ll do whatever it takes to help.”

“I know, darling.” He brought your forehead against his and took a deep breath again. When he looked up at you, his smile was genuine in its softness. “I love you. And I’ll always love you, until the very end.”

***

You woke in the morning, your neck and, well, your whole body sore. You could hear sounds coming from the washroom and knew Astarion was primping for the new day. 

Wait. Day? 

You immediately sat up, and immediately regretted it as the blood rushed from your head. Groaning in discomfort, you slowly keeled over and held your head. 

You could hear Astarion walking over and sitting on the bed next to you. When you raised your head, he was holding a potion out to you. 

“Drink this. You'll feel better.”

You gratefully took the bottle and drank it in one gulp. “Oof, this potion tastes like iron shavings and over-cooked mushrooms.” You blinked. “Huh, but my head feels much better.”

Astarion was looking at you with a withering glare. “I made that just for you, you know. It's not my fault your journal didn't have better instructions.”

You looked at him in surprise. “You kept my things?”

“Well, of course. Who else would have them?” 

You shrugged. “I don't know, I thought…” You paused. You didn't want to tell him that you thought only Shadowheart would have remembered to grab your pack. “Well, I don't know.”

Astarion continued to stare at you until you began to fidget under his scrutiny. “I know you're lying, but it doesn't matter. What does matter is that I have your things, and that your potions journal is impossible to decipher.”

You could only laugh; you had written your apothecary notes in a shorthand that only you knew. You were honestly impressed he got as far as figuring out the base ingredients for your headache potion.

He put his hands on his hips. “Well, now that you're feeling better, let's go face the new day, shall we?”

Day. Daylight. You panicked. 

“What's wrong, darling? Afraid it might not work?” 

“Of course I’m afraid! I was told it could work, not that it would.”

“Only one way to find out.” He scooped up your clothes and tossed them at you with a ‘hurry up’ gesture. The moment you were done pulling your clothes on, he took your hand and dragged you up the stairs. You followed him to the shades in front of the window.

He stared at the draperies for a few moments before turning to you. “Ready?”

You hesitated. 

Astarion stepped closer to you and pulled you into his arms. “Whatever happens, whether this works or not, I won't regret bonding with you.” 

How did he know what I was thinking? Somehow, he had soothed your worries with just the right thing to say. You took a deep breath. “Alright. The moment you start to burn, I'm closing them.”

He nodded. 

You pulled the drapes open. The sunlight made a sharp rectangle on the stone floor. 

Slowly Astarion began to approach. As the light shone onto his face, you held your breath. 

Seconds passed. Then a full minute. 

And he did not burn.

He turned around to face you, his beatific smile nearly as blinding as the morning sun. “Darling, I can feel the sun again,” he purred as he walked back to you. “I believe this is cause for celebration.”

With that, he dragged you back downstairs and kept you busy long enough that he didn’t get to enjoy the sun any further that day.

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

Act III, Chapter 6 End notes: Whew, finally! Haha, I felt a little strange, writing a love scene for a different fandom and different characters, but I hope this was steamy for everyone. This is technically the end of the main story, but I’ve got an epilogue for y’all, aligning with the epilogue in the game, so hopefully that’ll be a nice cap to the end of the story.

The binding spell is sung here. Please forgive my terrible singing, haha.

Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

[tavyliasin]

ATG 9 - Mouse? Rat.

(In which a mirror is met, and a trap is set)

Pairing: Haarlep/Tav  SPICE Rating: 4/5 Content Warnings:  Sex, BDSM, Power Play,  Aphrodisiacs,

Spoilers Act 3, House of Hope Canon Compliance Canon Is Wobbly - Technically there is some canon detail of what House of Hope is like, and if we really stretch  we can fit this in to the canon. But it's probably going off course, we're heading towards uncharted waters now so we can sail free. Canon gave us the start, the foundation, set our course out of the dock. Now we head on into our own waves, going where the wind takes us. Other Notes This chapter ends on a cliffhanger because it was getting too long to do everything I wanted in one go. So we have a split, then we will come back in write where it stops... Song/Mood The Cabaret of Dreams - Seven Spires "I will be your host this eve, So sit back, relax, and I guarantee If you take it, embrace it, succumb to the dark, Escape into a night where no one knows who you are, You crave it, awake it, the coeur bizarre, Lose yourself to the twisted art. Hey! Don't be afraid Hey! You'll be amazed Let your demons out Let your spirit free It's only gonna cost you your soul." ----- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT -----

It had been a day . That was about as positively as Tavylia could spin it as she prepared another hop across the broken rock face above fields of lava, once again questioning every single life choice that had lead her to this moment. Not much further, just keep going. That was the mantra now, one foot in front of the other, and hope you still had both feet still attached at the end of the day.

It had been a whole week, really. Their arrival in the city had been filled with more and more dangers. Even with Ketheric gone, there was still Orin and Gortash, the pair of them both more than willing to draw Tav to their side in order to destroy each other and claim power solely for themselves.

Then there was Raphael. Because of course he would be waiting wherever she went. ---

They’d first met again in a brothel of all places, which had done nothing to help Tav’s conflicted mood. He’d spoken to her the same way as always, not a single mention of the “dream” that plagued her mind in every quiet moment, and the constant slipping in and out of seductive flirting and vicious mockery was eroding the last shred of patience in her soul.

“And what if I don’t need to turn against the Emperor? He has kept all of us safe for a long time now.” She wasn’t sure she believed it, but contradicting Raphael was fast becoming her favourite hobby.

“I didn’t take you for that much of a fool , Little Mouse. Perhaps I should’ve offered you a bag of beans when we first met? That could’ve saved a lot of time.” Even as he sneered, it looked like he was half undressing her, body and mind. The scented perfumes in the room, the luxurious pool behind him, and the edge of a bed visible behind the dividing wall were all adding to a simple equation. The solution was not one that could be settled with paper, pencil, and abacus.

Fuck you, Tav thought, but her mouth gave different words to the sentiment. “You don’t even have beans, do you? Besides, everything about you screams that you should not be trusted, whilst the Emperor is capable of actually displaying compassion.” Oops.

“Oh good gods, you didn’t sleep with it, did you?” A look of horror crossed his face, and Tav could hear Lae’zel physically gag behind her. “Of all the depravity in all the nine hells… It’s using you, Little Mouse, selling you a sweet little story to get what it wants before it discards you, or worse it’ll turn you into a creature just like itself. I had thought you wished to avoid that particular fate, at least.”

Tav remembered, as he’d mentioned before, that Raphael had a habit of shielding them from the Emperor’s view. “Did it ever occur to you that I might be the one using him?” She was suddenly glad she had left Astarion at camp to relax today, as she didn’t want him to misunderstand what she said next. “Emotion can be a weakness, a weapon. If he were to turn on me, I already have another card in my hand.”

“Oh, very impressive, Little Mouse,” he replied, in the most patronising tone he could muster - an impressive feat given how patronising his usual tone was anyway, “you really think that will be enough? I can offer you something else, a trump card for your deck.”

“Don’t tell me, it involves another deal?” she glared, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“So you do have a little intellect left in that pretty little head of yours! Obviously nothing in life is free, but we made a deal before, did we not? I kept my end of the bargain, you kept yours - quite the lucrative relationship, wouldn’t you say?” His smile widened a little, more small gestures almost like a bow. Always the same dance, Tav thought to herself, considering his words. Hold on did he call me pretty?! She pulled her thoughts together again. “I can’t deny that. The answer was hardly satisfying, though, and we’re still far from resolving that particular issue.” “Ah ah ah, Little Mouse, you know that I never promised resolution to the problem. I told you the meaning of what was written on your lover’s back, no more, no less. And you killed my old enemy for me, no more, no less.” “Fine. Deal done. What do you suggest this time? Just more words?” she couldn’t resist pushing him right to the edge of his patience, delighting in watching him lose his composure for just a moment as his jaw clenched a little too hard. The Cambion smoothed his hair down casually, though not a single strand had been out of place. “Actually, this time we will be needing more than a simple verbal contract. I’m afraid you’ll need to sign on the dotted line.” “I’m not saying yes without details.” Tav put her hands on her hips, glaring a challenge towards him.

“Always so ferocious, aren’t you? You can keep your daggers to yourself, for now. I’m not even asking for your soul, my aim is not to own you.” He smiled, with unnerving charm. “I’ll even sweeten the deal and pay may half in full first. A gesture of goodwill, if you like.” “Remarkably generous, for a fiend. What exactly are you offering?” Tav couldn’t help the insults, but her curiosity was piqued. “Orpheus.” He said plainly, for one horrifying moment making Tav wonder if he actually knew what had happened with the Emperor. If her reaction showed on her face, Raphael was ignoring it. “I can give you the means to free Orpheus from his prison, and in turn he can free you from the hold of the illithid creature and solve that little tadpole problem for you. He won’t take any convincing to help you with your final foe, either.”

“You sound very sure of yourself. What’s the guarantee he won’t just murder us all on sight for having the tadpoles in our minds in the first place?” “He won’t.” Lae’zel spoke up from behind her. Tav had almost forgotten anyone else was in the room. “Kithrak Voss. I’ll speak with him, I am certain he will aid us when the moment comes, and Orpheus will be on our side.” “See?” Raphael’s voice took on a musical tone for a moment. “You’ll be just fine . Besides, you’ve made it this far, have you not? I don’t make pointless bets, either. I have the hammer, a particular weapon that is the only way you can free the Gith Prince from his prison, and I’m willing to give it to you right now.” Tav considered him, eyes scanning every inch of his body language and expression for the barest hint of a lie. She found nothing. “And if it’s not my soul you want in return, what is it?” “The Crown.” He replied, simply and without any of the usual dancing around the point. It was almost unnerving. “Bring me the crown once you have defeated your foes, and consider our deal complete.”

Easy enough, on the face of it. But he was not the only one looking for it, and Tav wasn’t about to just sign anything without giving it a lot more thought first. “I’m not saying yes, but I’m also not saying no. I’m not foolish enough to erase a possible advantage, but I’m not about to just sign without reading all of the small-print.” “For once, Little Mouse, you’ll find the page to be really quite clear, no lines to read between, no secret catch. But if you insist on struggling pointlessly against the tide, well, just remember who to call when you’re running out of breath beneath the waves.” He held out one hand facing up, then briefly covered it with his other hand. When he revealed his palm again, a pair of small smooth stones glinted in the light. They looked fairly plain, and yet entirely identical. “Sending Stones. Simple little trick, consider it free of charge. When you are out of luck, preferably before you start growing tentacles, use this. Call out to me, and I will come to you. Then we can finalise our deal.” “That sounds remarkably fair of you.” Tav looked at the stones with suspicion, before picking one up and turning it over in her hand as if inspecting it for traps. “There’s no point overcomplicating things. I have what you need, and you can get what I want. Still, you ask for time, and I can be patient. For now. But consider, how long do you truly have left? Tick tock, Little Mouse, don’t wait 'til the final hour to beg at my feet. You’re smarter than that, at least.” He bowed with a flourish, though he didn’t break eye contact. “Until then, unless I see you sooner.”

---

Tav had almost slammed the door when she left, still feeling the smug look following her as she left the brothel. She had half a mind to spend some coin and a couple of hours with some of the staff just to blow off some steam, but there was little chance for peace with her companions insisting on talking over the pros and cons of the contract. Afterwards, another week had passed, but in that time the bitch Orin grew impatient and took Halsin from their camp, which is why Tav was now about to hop across a broken balcony in the middle of Avernus of all places. She didn’t want to imagine what he might be suffering through while they searched, so she had decided to try a new angle. The House of Hope. Raphael’s mansion. An expensive ritual to open the portal, but it had to be worth it. She would make sure of that.  “Stay out here,” she turned to her companions as she eyed up the balcony above, “if I need help I’ll send you a signal.”

“I’m sorry? You’re waltzing in through the window of the devil’s bedchambers and you want us to, what, go and read a book while we wait? Darling I know you’ve been reckless recently but this is too much.” Astarion looked genuinely worried, like one step wrong and he would shatter. “You have your disguises, I have the scrolls Gale gave me. If you can find anything in his archives that could help us find Orin and get Halsin back…it’s worth the risk. I can handle Raphael, don’t worry. Besides, apparently he isn’t home. It should be easy to take a little peek at his secrets.” She did her best to reassure him, even though she knew they were getting desperate. “I’m with Astarion on this one, but I’m well aware that trying to change your mind is futile.” Gale turned back to his companions, preparing to leave. 

Shadowheart also laying a hand on the pale elf’s shoulder behind him. “She’ll be fine, somehow. Gods know she’s manage to stay alive this far.” The cleric shot Tav the kind of look that said don’t you dare prove me wrong, I will not speak kindly at your funeral if you mess this up. “Stick to the plan,” Tav said, “it’s the best chance we have. Oh and stay away from Hope for now, she risks drawing too much attention. Rule 1, remember? I’ll meet you in the entrance hall later.” As the others turned back the way they’d come, Tav steeled her nerves, swigging from a potion of leaping to give herself the extra strength to make it on to the balcony edge. ---

Tav almost immediately regretted not trying to quickly switch outfits before stepping into the lavishly decorated room. She was fairly certain that Raphael wasn’t home, especially from how Hope had spoken when they arrived through the portal. The plan was just to gather a little information, maybe see what they could learn about Raphael’s own plans before deciding whether handing him an item of immense power was just a step too reckless. But reckless, it seemed, was becoming the theme of the day. She stepped through the open balcony door cautiously, peering inside the room. 

Well, shit, this is awkward. Laying on the bed in his full devilish form was Raphael, dressed in what could only be described as the sluttiest leather harness that Tav had ever seen in her life. He turned lazily to look towards her, eyes travelling the full course of her body with a hunger that she could feel , even from this distance. He beckoned her closer, but remained on the silk sheets, chalice of wine in hand. “A lost little mouse is running through the house, a thief in the night, greedy and here to take. Why are you here, little thief?” His poetry was familiar at least, but there was something else…different. “Raphael? You look… I wasn’t expecting you to be home, and certainly not dressed like that. ” She tried in vain to prevent her gaze travelling across his form, rippling muscles just beneath crimson skin, lined with veins and a few little ridges that marked his body as just beyond human. Of course, the large wings, tail, and the viciously curved horns growing from his forehead were decidedly less human than the form she was most accustomed to seeing him in. However, it seemed like her reaction had amused him, as he began to laugh. “Raphael? Ha! No.” The voice turned colder, a sharp edge to the speaker's words now. “You will have a far crueller master than Raphael, soon. But what inspired you to pay him a visit?” Shit, Tav thought, but if it’s not him…who the fuck-“Come on, little thief, out with it. Why in all the hells did you sneak in through the bedroom balcony of the Archduke Raphael? If you had an invitation, the door would be open to you, and you certainly are not dressed like someone who belongs in here . The disguise will not fool me, you’re no debtor either.” Despite the harsh words, they seemed more amused than furious. As if this entirely unexpected turn of events was entertaining, rather than an invasion.

“Well, I’m in a little trouble.” She began, hesitating at the fiery eyes seeming to burn through her. Somehow, this one was more intimidating than Raphael, shaking her usually cocky foundation. “ That , Little Thief, is obvious . Nobody is foolish to turn up in this House when they have any other option.” They took a sip of wine now, gesturing for Tav to go on. “I’m not here for his deals, not yet. I was looking for some answers first.” She paused again. It was extremely distracting to be stood there looking down at the almost naked object of several quietly kept fantasies just laying on the bed. It was unnerving. “Actually, the first question - if you’re not Raphael, who are you? And why do you look just like him?” “I am Raphael’s personal incubus, glamoured to look just. Like. Him. He’s so terribly vain, only wanting to sleep with himself, but you know what they say. Better the devil you know. Usually information does not come for free, but I suppose we shall consider this a trade. Names next, then? Mine is Haarlep. You would do well to keep that in mind, you may find yourself in need of it.” They licked their lips idly as they continued to observe her. “Your turn, Thief.” “Tavylia.” she replied, eyes drawn to their lips involuntarily. “Tav, usually.”

“Ah so it is you. The Little Mouse that has the cat’s fur standing on end.” Haarlep seemed more intrigued now, sitting up a little to take a better look at the increasingly uncomfortable elf stood before them. “I’ve heard all about you. ” The emphasis increased with every word, as each syllable travelled across the room with an enticing intensity. “Then you have me at a disadvantage. I know nothing of you.” She stood stiffly, trying to keep at least a little of her pride intact as their gaze burned right through her. “Of course not, I’m his dirty little secret. ” They laughed, draining the last of their wine and placing the chalice on the bedside. “And you have been quite the thorn in his side. He might call you Little Mouse, but now I look at you… Little Mouse doesn't suit you, no, you're more like a rat. You actually stand a chance against a cat, if you're clever enough. Unfortunately for you, I'm no house cat. You'll find me considerably closer to a tiger than to the pet you've been playing with until now.” Tav felt the familiar prickling of danger running up her spine, every alarm blaring in her mind that she had walked into the wrong room at the wrong time, but still another part of her had control and was quite unwilling to leave just yet.

“Well, my little Rat Thief, now the introductions are over…” They stood from the bed now, raising to their full height, wings stretching out behind them in an impressive display. Even their eyes seemed to blaze with a brighter fire than before, the heat making the air stifling. “Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable without those old rags?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Tav would’ve taken a step backwards, had she found any strength in her legs to move at all. “I told you, Rat, that I already know all about you. So you have nothing left to trade if you want more answers from me.” They stepped closer, the heat from their body almost unbearable, the scent of cinnamon drifting enticingly from their skin. “It is entirely your choice. I’ll allow you to leave, if you wish, empty handed. Or, if you really want to know some of Raphael’s dirty little secrets , we can play a game. If you win, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” their voice lowered to a seductive growl, “but you’ll enjoy it far more if you lose.” Stopping just short of where she stood, they kept their eyes locked on Tav’s. She took her time to consider their words, and what they seemed to be implying. If Raphael truly is only interested in sex with his own form, well I’m shit out of luck. He’s just been playing the angle for the contract… But an incubus? Far simpler, right? They desire lust, sex, and will naturally gain something from the act…but what? “Alright, Haarlep, but I want to know the rules first. ”

“That’s cute, that you think you can make a demand of me. I can see where your eyes drift, Rat, and I promise you I can be everything you dream of, and more. ” They let their gaze wander over her body now, a direct challenge. “I can even, if you prefer, take a softer form. Raphael occasionally enjoys the pleasures,” they paused as their body shimmered and transformed into what could only be described as a feminine twin of Raphael, voice to match as they continued, “the very many pleasures of the Archduchess. The choice is yours, but you must agree to the game before we can play, Rat.” The new nickname was beginning to grate on Tav’s nerves, and yet every time Haarlep spoke, she felt more and more drawn towards them. It was becoming impossible to lie, as if the truth of her desire were being drawn from within simply by being in their presence. “Usually, I do not mind the body I lay with, as long as the experience is worth it.” She swallowed now, her mouth suddenly dry. “But…I have found myself wanting Raphael, all of him.” “Well then, Little Rat, far be it from me to disappoint,” another gesture and the cambion form shifted again to the masculine shape that plagued Tav’s dreams of late, “you shall have what you desire. And you shall find it far more pleasant than the company of the Archduke himself . ” Tav found herself sighing involuntarily, taking a step towards them, reaching out to touch-

“Ah ah ah, Rat, patience. I will only give you two rules. The way out of our game is simple; the same as any other, if you wish to cede defeat, all you need do is say Meow. Or, if for some reason your tongue is unable to form the word, simply hum it. I will know, and you will be free to leave. From what I’ve heard, however, I doubt you will have use for it.”  They reached out a hand towards Tav, stopping with their finger less than a millimeter from her lips, denying the touch that she craved. “My second rule, is that you only ever refer to me by my proper name. And I assure you, you will want to before we are through.” “Wait…” Tav spoke, desperate to do anything but wait. “What do you get from this?” “Simple. I get you. I’ve been watching for some time, listening, and you are so very entertaining. Am I not entitled to a little fun, too? I hear you even had fun with an illithid ! I must say I am impressed by that experiment of yours. Even I have not indulged in the particular flesh of a Mindflayer. But enough of that, what do you say? Will you step back out the way you came? Or are you going to take off those awful rags, so we can enjoy ourselves more freely.” Their finger still lingered tantalisingly close to Tav’s lips, without giving her the satisfaction of contact even if she moved closer.

“I…agree to your terms, Haarlep.” The incubus’s wing’s seemed to flutter slightly as she spoke their name, barely above a whisper. She was rewarded by the briefest touch, the tip of their nail tracing down their cheek to beneath her chin, lifting it towards them as they bend to speak close to her ear. “Excellent decision~” they purred, the reverberations of their voice alone travelling directly through Tav’s entire body, almost falling to the floor as their tongue teased the pointed tip of her ear, “now take your clothes off and lay on the bed.”

No sooner had they given the order, they stepped away leaving a vast emptiness in the space they had just occupied. They never took their eyes off her, but walked slowly around to the opposite side of the massive bed. The clothes were hardly enticing, but Tav knew when she was being tested. She removed each item swiftly, but with purpose and grace in her movements. At least she had been able to keep her own underwear beneath the debtor's disguise. She paused now, watching them for any reaction.

"I don't believe I told you to stop, Rat. Keep going…" Their eyes were burning with a cool fire, flickering irises reminiscent of the hells themselves burning within them. 

Tav was torn between a curiosity to see what might happen if she stopped, and the greater desire at what may follow if she continued. An easy decision, and soon she was completely exposed, though grateful for the heat in the room. 

"You needn't be afraid, little thief, I have no desire to harm you. At least, not in a way you won't enjoy…" The last syllable was drawn out like a brief growl, the fire in their eyes sparking once more as they noted her response. "Pleasure and pain are two sides of the same coin, after all, and it is such fun to balance on the edge."

Whilst they talked, Tav laid on the bed as instructed, feeling their gaze look beneath her flesh and to the potential it held. They looked like a hungry beast before a banquet. Haarlep moved to the end of the bed, taking another prolonged moment to examine every inch of exposed flesh, before they began to crawl across the bed above her. Their words earlier rang clearly in Tav’s ears, they stalked like a tiger, eyeing her like prey. Just the look they were giving her was raising the heat within her now. “You are so intriguing, Rat, so you’ll have no tricks here. It would be far too easy to charm you, seduce you with a trick to want me, but you’re already right here with barely a hint of coercion.” The sharp talon of a nail softly caressed Tav’s lower lip, the unspoken encouragement for her to part her lips. “And I’ve heard all about this tongue of yours - sharp words can rile him up, you know.” Now they pressed a thumb into her mouth, the tip of their claw just shy of piercing through but the pressure enough to sting with the sharp edge. “You’re welcome to try that with me, of course, but you may find yourself less able to speak before we’re done.” Tav moaned softly, the devil above her was a deeply erotic sight. They straddled her hips easily but kept the contact minimal, and she felt a strong desire to wrap her lips around the thumb that tasted of smoke and heat and cinnamon, but the moment she tried they pulled back again, leaving only a wanton moan in their wake. “Build up your appetite, Rat, you’ll dine well soon enough. But first I simply must know what is so fascinating about one little elf…” They almost seemed absorbed in their own thoughts as they bent to meet her lips, tasting the most chaste kiss and yet leaving a feeling of intense debauchery from just that simple contact. “Hmmm…” They ignored any reaction from Tav, shifting back a little now instead. Clawed hands gripped Tav’s breasts, pressure enough to hurt but simultaneously finding nerves that made her heart race faster. She was becoming impatient. “I thought an incubus would be quick to get to the point.” “Hah! Aren’t you adorable, I didn’t think you’d have the words now. You are aware that we carry a powerful aphrodisiac in our saliva? Perhaps such a small kiss is not enough to poison a ferocious little rat?” They eyed her closely, daring her to reply.

Tav was briefly reminded of a very uncomfortable moment in the temple of Shar involving a half eaten giant spider. She could feel the heat lingering on her lips, and almost heard Gale’s voice shouting at her in her memories- “Stop licking the damn thing!”

She almost laughed, but Haarlep was bending towards her again. “Well, Rat? Do you want more of a taste?” Their claws gripped and pulled on sensitive skin, her chest flaring with a bright heat and pain. Tav remembered now the night she had danced with the Raphael’s true form, a dream more real than she realised. She reached up and grabbed Haarlep’s horns, pulling them in to a deep and passionate kiss. Their tongue danced between her lips, drawing out her breath, tasting every moan that started low and sang up through her throat. It was as if they were drinking in every single spark of her arousal through her lips, a taste of fire, cloves, cinnamon and smoke. Even their hands on her skin felt like the heated more, and she held on to the viciously curved horns until her wrists were snatched away and pressed down above her head. “Well well, you are entertaining…” Haarlep purred, licking their lips, “So, so delicious .” This time, Tav was lost for words, a fact that seemed to make the incubus smile with satisfaction. 

“Good…good, little thief, though you might have bitten off more than you can chew this time. I was only going to give you a little, but you went ahead and took all you wanted.” They let out a low chuckle. “I hope you’re ready, you should be feeling it…right about now.” Tav’s head rolled back onto the silk pillows, pressing down as she bit her lip. She was feeling it alright. The it in question was a powerful surge of libido, which started in her mouth where their tongue had drawn their devilish designs on her own like a curse. It spread like butterfly wings opening through the centre of her chest, chasing on down to her middle with the fluttering of a hundred desires. By the time the heat pooled between her legs it was damn near unbearable, pulling her hips up desperately towards the incubus who still knelt over her, their hand still effortlessly pinning her arms above her head. It continued further still into her legs, which Haarlep easily pinned by hooking their feet over her shins. By the time the sensation of pure lust had reached every inch of her being, Tav barely remembered how to breathe, where she was, or anything beyond the deep aching need to be touched.

The entire time, Haarlep simply watched, holding her still, refusing any contact besides the easy restraint. Their tongue licked the taste of her from their lips, revealing the hint of sharp teeth for one tantalising moment. “I don’t think I need to ask what you want, now, do I?” Their voice was just beside her ear as they bent close again, still just keeping their bodies from touching. Their wings spread out behind them. “But I would just love to hear those pretty lips beg.” Tav groaned. This was torture, but she was beginning to feel that reckless confidence rising up in her again. The game was on. “Fuck. You.” She managed to hiss out between desperately quickened breaths. This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, why am I antagonising the-“Not. Yet.” They replied, tail coming down viciously on her upper thigh like a whip. The pain stung, her eyes almost watered as she felt the hint of a bruise beginning to swell where the blow had landed, but the contact had also given her a taste of what she desired. Haarlep laughed, they knew this game well, and they were ever so intrigued by a mere mortal who would be so willing to play it. “Perhaps I should be surprised how you’re still alive,” they punctuated the pause in their sentence with another lash of their tail, “and you don’t even know yourself, do you?”

Despite their question, Tav wasn’t given space to answer as the game intensified. Tail lashing with brutal precision, dancing on the knife edge of agony and ecstacy ever time it struck home, the incubus ever watching her reactions. If she had the presence of mind to look more closely, she would’ve noticed their red skin now bore a few flecks of her own blood, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond the maddening embrace of pure hedonism. “I am beginning to like you, Rat. You’re bearing this all so very well, you might just be my new favourite pet~” They bent to her neck now, pressing their heated lips against skin that begged for their kisses. There was no affection beyond the lie of a false love, and despite the look in their blazing eyes they did not devour her in one bite, nor did they treat her with patience or reverence. No, the incubus wanted to pull every nerve in her body like a puppet’s strings, and gods it was good . 

Astarion was a practiced lover, focused on her, and leading her towards more experimental experiences by building the trust between them. The Emperor had looked directly into her mind and harnessed her hidden desires to bring them closer, an act she could only describe as respectful violation. The brief moment she had shared with Raphael showed her a kind of greed and selfish wanting that made her head spin every time she thought about it. But Haarlep? They were unique.

Haarlep’s touch was like fire dancing through her body, they lived and breathed pleasure, their entire being was designed to feed upon the shudders running through her body as they dug their clawed nails into her hip and traced a lustful path along her collarbone with lips, tongue, teeth . Tav struggled a little against the hand pinning her wrists, but it wasn’t freedom she wanted. Freedom was a word away, a word that almost sought her tongue to form the sound but was chased back every time by a fresh wave of utter delight leaving her drunk on lust.

“Ah you are refreshing, ” they breathed against her ribs, chuckling softly as another whip of their tail drew a fresh moan from Tav’s lungs, “and such pretty songs you sing, little thief, and you will sing mine soon~”

Their teeth grazed along over-sensitive skin, tongue flickering to press against tender flesh as they moved down to her breasts, releasing her hands now from above her head. She ached for the restraint, but found no breath to complain. Instead her hands balled into fists, gripping desperately at the decadent fabrics as the incubus reached the peak of her breasts with their wicked mouth now, their free hand beginning to tease her tense thighs.

For a few minutes, there was quiet. Haarlep finally stopped talking, their mouth busy drawing yet more infernal symbols with a quick tongue upon every inch of Tav’s exposed chest. She missed the voice, though, yearning for the deep tones to seduce her soul from her body- Shit, and I in danger? The thought tried to find purchase in her mind, but it swiftly left the way it came as she felt a finger finally find the source of the searing heat below.

“My, my, little Rat, aren’t you just full of desire~”, their voice began to fill the still air once more, musical and intrigued, “do you wish for more? I’ll need you to speak up now~”

The teasing touch, circling but never entering, sparked a new fire in Tav. The insulting nickname enticing the stubbornness to rear its head. “Make me.”

The incubus growled, wings fluttering for just a moment with something like a warped mirror of irritation. This wasn’t enough to get under their skin, was it? But oh, the challenge had been set, and they were not going to let this one get away with it. Their tail cracked through the air in a vicious arc, landing a stinging blow across her breast, and at that same moment they thrust their finger inside.

Tav howled. An unhinged noise, the satisfaction of finally having something in that aching emptiness that needed to feel this, and the delicious searing pain of the cambion tail drawing blood from pale skin. But that was all - she was left breathless, wanting, as Haarlep pulled back from her, leaving only that one motionless finger waiting. If they so much as twitched their taloned fingertip within her, she might have burst there and then, but they didn’t.

“So, are you going to ask nicely, Little Rat? You might be able to sneak into this house but do not think you can so easily steal from me. ” Their eyes burned brighter, and if Tav had any sense of what was going on around her she would’ve noticed the flames raising from the bed. Not a true fire, this was an illusion, one that was beyond Haarlep’s control. The light highlighted every inch of their chiseled body, their wickedly curved horns almost glowing as they continued to glare at her.

All it took was a slight twitch of their finger, and a fresh wave of arousal stirred within her entire being coalescing into a single, desperate word: “Please…”“Good~” they purred, wings spreading a little wider, free hand raising into the air to summon-

Oh shit, Tav whispered in her mind, somewhere between a pleased expletive and a note of concern, those are vines-The living vines rose up from beneath the bed, entangling her wrists securely, others below her coiling around her ankles and knees, positioning her legs bent, held open, displayed for the fiend’s amusement. “Very good~” they continued, before lowering towards her abdomen. A teasing bite drew blood from the curve of her hip at the same moment a second finger found its home in warm flesh, both moving now and finally drawing the first climax out of her soul with a long low sound that was almost unrecognisable. Haarlep ate it like an appetiser, far from sated. And given their kiss earlier, Tav was also completely given over to her need now.

The room fell quiet once more, aside from the sound of a thrumming heartbeat and the lewd echoes of Haarlep’s talents, as they moved lower to give another kiss. Far from the chaste kiss of a first love, the incubus put their tongue to work in tasting everything even as their fingers built up an intensity of motion.

Every nerve was alight, the sting of wounds from their lashing tail still burned brightly, pleasure and pain dancing a tango in every inch of Tav’s body. Her mind was almost empty, entirely focused on the swarm of sensation that was devouring her consciousness almost as voraciously as Haarlep was devouring her-

---

Haarlep almost regretted enthralling Tav, the spell was hardly necessary, and they had only used it moments ago. Her mind was not allowed to drift now, they demanded that of her, demanded that she think and feel only them , but their peace was about to be disturbed.

They felt the air shift, the currents changing, charged with the familiar electric crackle of magic as the shimmering doorway appeared behind them.

“Well, well, well,” the master of the house spoke with an air of calm irritation, “I don’t believe we had any scheduled guests today. And what, or rather who , the FUCK do you think you are doing, Harlot ?” The insulting nickname made them bristle, even as they continued to pull a shuddering orgasm from Tav’s burning body with a feral scream. Still, this could work in their favour… They folded their wings and sat up slowly, leaving their hand still inside her to keep working her nerves as her mind focused only on them, entirely unaware of the new arrival.

Raphael’s expression was complex, unreadable, as he took in the scene before him. His personal incubus grinning back at him with his own smug face, lips still wet with her desire. Her. What the fuck was she doing here? In his bed? Exposed, wanting, and having the audacity to not even look his way for a second.

“Little Mouse?-” ----------- ----------- ENDING NOTES ----------- -----------

It felt bad to split the chapter, but it was also very necessary~ finally we bring Tav to play with Haarlep, and naturally Raphael knows something is going on... I fear writing this and its sequel fundamentally rewired my brain, and gods am I glad that it did~ Until tomorrow, loves, when you will have more... Oh, did I almost forget? This one gets a LiArt~