#mindflayer x reader

[aka-indulgence]

Illithid Kiss

So I caved. Immediately. Mind flayers are hot, bite me

Thanks to @llamagoddessofficial for showing me 1 (one) image of bg3 mind flayer and immediately going AWOOGA

Yes I made an ao3 link, I ‘ve been taken over help

(Mind flayer x Female!Reader

Mind flayer goes by he/him)

Vaussur took you in as his thrall for what feels like a long time ago. Despite being a mind flayer, for his kind, he had surprise you at every turn, acting unlike how you expected an illithid to act- like how the rest of the mind flayers in his hive acts. Lenient and forgiving with you, letting you roam with your mind free (for the most part), you find yourself unexpectedly getting attached to him.

What do you do, when all of a sudden your mind flayer ‘master’ asks you to tell him about human love? When he asks you to show him more directly? And most importantly…

Would you kiss a mind flayer?

Content warning: Mind control involved (consensual), suggestive themes, master/servant romantic relationship

—————

“Tell me, pet. What does it mean to love like a human?”

You’re snapped out of your musings at the voice, echoing both through the room and chambers in your mind. You look away from the window, from the alien society outside. Vaussur was looming behind you, a curious glow in his eyes that looked soft, somehow.

In the shadows of the room he looked ominous, almost spine-chilling. Illithid armour glinting in the faint light, while the rest of his body was merely a silhouette save for his glowing, golden irises. It reminded you of stories people back home used to tell you when you were young: to close and lock the doors at night and close the windows lest a monster sneak into the room. You didn’t know what a mind flayer was, back then, but seeing him now, he fits the stories perfectly.

Yet, he keeps surprising you with his curious mannerisms- his strange questions. You turn to face your ‘master’.

“Why do you ask?”

“As you might guess, it’s not something I can speak of amongst other illithids,” he says matter-of-factly, with a bit of humor in his eyes. “But its still something I’m personally interested in, nonetheless.”

You giggle. “What do you mean? Do you study humans?”

Mind flayers don’t have mouths. But from the way his tentacles moved, it almost looks like Vaussur was smiling at the sound of your giggle. But he answers seriously.

“I have been, as of late.” He gives you a meaningful glance. “Of course, illithids are the superior race and our ways of living are equally superior. … But I find myself becoming curious. We don’t have such customs in our society, and what I’m about to say is unbecoming for a mind flayer, but…”

You look at him curiously as he struggles to speak his words.

“I… envy you.” He whispers. “You have no idea how exquisite your mind tastes, my dear thrall. … How tender, the sweetness in every drop of thought in that delectable mind of yours, the warmth and comfort your memories radiate… You come from a world where a small, innocent, kind thing like yourself could flourish and bloom- thrive, even. How can such a world exist?”

The way he describes your mind in frightening and alien detail, reminds you of what he is- an illithid, a being that literally has a taste for brains. But even so, the way he described yours, though a little unsettling, almost sounds like a poem, words woven carefully just for you. Try as you might, it sounds like a compliment to you.

“W-well,” you stutter, staggered by his flowery words- coming from a being that has never seen much of life in the sun. “I think humans are more social than mind flayers. You communicate out of necessity, working together like a hivemind for the elder brain… right?”

“Right. You remembered what I told you? Smart pet, you prove me again and again why you’re my favorite thrall.”

“Um!” Being called a thrall wasn’t flattering, but still you feel your mind spin from the praise. “Thank- thank you. As I was saying, humans communicate and cooperate too, but we don’t do it just out of necessity. We find joy in the comfort of other humans- and other beings too, if they’ve formed a bond. We do it because we like it. We make bonds with people in our families and our communities, for companionship and… sometimes more. We can work alone, but most suffer from being solitary.”

You don’t know what kind of love Vaussur was asking you for, but you thought keeping it general was a good start at least. And the safest option, considering the other possibility.

“Interesting… not unlike illithids.” He comments.

“Really? How so?”

“As a non mind-flayer, you would not know this, but… it’s very unhealthy for a mind flayer to be completely alone.” You raise your eyebrows in surprise while Vaussur continues. “No elder brain, no other illithids, no thralls. Mind flayers are surrounded and connected by thoughts. To strip the familiar away from them… I’ve heard stories where they’ve gone mad.”

“Wait- mind flayers can go mad?”

“Of course. We are superior but not perfect- even I can admit that. Mind flayers can’t thrive in isolation, we must rely on another living being. It’s a disgrace for a mind flayer to accept it, let alone admit it- especially to admit they rely on thralls so heavily beyond labor.”

“I didn’t know that.” You remarked, seeing the illithids in a new light. Most of what you’ve heard from when mind flayers were merely myths and legends, and from what you’ve seen directly from their society indicates that they’re a self-sufficient, self-aggrandizing people. To know they could be attached to anything other than themselves, or at least to their elder brain… and Vaussur had so easily conceded this information to you.

“Wait, if it was a disgrace, why are you admitting this to me right now?”

“Because I’m no different. And it is no disgrace to say that I need you to stay with me.”

Your mouth hangs open at his honest confession, like it was factual. You try to ignore the little flips your stomach is doing, and whether or not it was a good feeling.

“I’ve also heard that there are different types of love. Platonic and romantic, I think they’re called.”

“Yes, yes there is, it’s-” you stop yourself, even as you quieten the excitement in your chest at the mention of the other type of love (to your puzzlement). “How do you know about that?”

“During my time on a ​​reconnaissance mission. I was looking for possibles hosts to implant with tadpole.”

You fail to hide the distaste on your face at the mention of ceremorphosis. If Vaussur saw it, he doesn’t react.

“I heard them talking about it. I think they were discussing whether what they felt for each other was one form or the other. Their discussion about the romantic one became particularly charged.”

He refocuses on you, and eagerly asks, “What is… romantic love?”

He was trying to sound calm and analytical but you could hear it: excitement. But why would a mind flayer be so interested in romance, of all things?

“It’s… like I said earlier,” you swallowed. You don’t know why you felt so bashful about it, like you were in a group of children talking about your parents kissing like it was a scandal. “It’s when people have more… intimate relationships with another. It’s not very different from platonic love, but different nonetheless. It’s…”

How do you explain romantic love to someone who doesn’t know what it is? How is it different from platonic love? Just having to explain what love is to him proved itself quite confusing to you, as the more you tried to grasp the definition of love to you, the more it slipped away.

“It’s like…” you grasp again, “romantic love is when you meet another person, and you feel a, a… a spark. It’s more intense than platonic love, where you just feel this… attraction to the other person, where you want to be as close to them as possible, and just their presence can make you really happy. You do things with them things you wouldn’t do with any other people you have in your life, intimate things. Someone you want to share your life with.”

You feel a little helpless as you clasp your hands together, trying to convey what you think love looks like to someone who’s never experienced it. Even with your loose explanation, Vaussur is rapt with fascination, his luminous glare unblinking. 

“I’m sorry if this is confusing to you…”

He shakes his head. “That’s more knowledge than any mind flayer knows. And… if it proves hard for you, pet, maybe you should show it to me.”

“I… show it?”

You were about to ask how, but as soon as you thought that, a word echoes in your mind.

With a kiss.

Your eyes widen, and unfortunately, it looks like your mind was loud enough for Vaussur to notice.

Without skipping a beat, he asks you, “Can you… show that to me? Kissing?”

Added with his forwardness, you fluster, but you try to calm yourself. Vaussur is a mind flayer. He’s never experienced any kind of love, let alone romantic. He really is just curious, he’s not trying to charm you… right?

You try to explain it to him.

“I c-could, but… kissing you would be more… romantic. One of the intimate things people do together to be romantic.” You said that twice. Your mind is tripping over itself. “You have to- no, you should do it with someone you care about deeply, the one you want to keep in your life. At least, that’s how you make it more meaningful.”

Vaussur doesn’t speak, not immediately. A strange look washes over his face, his brows furrowing. Subconsciously, he brings his hand to a tentacle, stroking it thoughtfully.

“I don’t see the problem. That describes how I feel about you perfectly.”

Everything goes quiet for you.

… “What?”

Vaussur doesn’t skip a beat.

“That’s how I’ve felt about you since I took you as my thrall. That is not a strange concept. I’m intimately familiar with that feeling.” He pauses. “Unless this is hesitation because I’m a mind flayer.”

“I- no that’s not it,” you say, the ice freezing your tongue melting. “It’s, I just- do you… love… me?”

“Perhaps. If that really what love is, then yes. But illithids don’t have ‘romance’ or ‘love’. So I need you to show me what it is.”

You shake your head, you can’t believe the situation you’re in, looking at the floor. The mind flayer that’s called you his thrall might very well love you- even be in love for you. People have described mind flayers as soulless, one of the defining characteristics they were often associated with, something you’d accepted as fact, until you were captured by one. Despite his illithid tendencies, the air of superiority, lack of care for non illithid lives, and strange fascination with brains; for what he is, Vaussur’s acted with more humanity than what you imagined a mind flayer was capable of.

You’ve noticed that most of your favorite qualities in him come out when you have his attention.

Though he’s always been imposing and quite frightening, you can’t believe that you’ve… thought what it’d be like to kiss him. At times when he seems to go against his natural instincts, like keeping you away from the feedings, how he praises you when he defends you from other mind flayers, how you were precious to him, and the way he held you protectively whenever you needed to cross their domain.

You’re amazed at yourself when you answer him with “... Alright.”

When you pick your head up from your musings, you startle from how close he was to you. You could see the patterns in his illithid armor, the intricate swirls and spirals, turning to complicated geometries as they reach the edge of the armor, extending from what looks like a mind flayer skull in the middle of the collar area. Long, dark purple robes extend from underneath, covering most of Vaussur’s skin. You withhold the urge to trace your fingers over the shapes.

You look up, way up. You were no stranger to this- even among mind flayers, Vaussur was particularly tall. He loomed over you, your head only reaching somewhere in the middle of his chest, and you’d have to crane your neck whenever he commanded you. But now, with the prospect of… kissing him, he seems all the more imposing. The closes thing you could to kissing him properly would probably be on one of tentacle.

“Um…”

Vaussur makes a strange sound, a sound that tickles your brain. A laugh…?

Before you could worry about what you were about to do, you feel a magic presence all around you, like someone was holding you. Your feet lift off the floor as you’re picked up by his psionic energy, bringing you face to face with him. There’s expectance in his burning gaze, something that makes you feel small and defenseless. You feel his thoughts seeping into your mind, mixing with yours: the want to be closer, of warm affection… and something possessive. You’re not sure if he’s trying to make you feel the same things for him, or if he’s simply communicating with you the way a mind flayer would with each other. It scares you a little, especially feeling his more foreign emotions- but whatever it is, you know he’s being genuine. You don’t sense a hint of malice in all the rush of feelings he’s emanating.

Despite your timidity, you can’t say those feelings were wholly unpleasant. You find you’re actually leaning into it, closing your eyes to try to feel it coursing through you. When you open them, you find the courage to brace your hands on his plated shoulders. Brilliant citrine eyes glance down at them, and you realize how small they must look to him.

Your brows furrow a little as you look for a good place to… kiss an illithid. Your fingers curl, and you try to position your head a bit to the side. You could feel him watching your every move, and you swallow.

You lean in. You could smell him, somewhat like vanilla and something else, and you’re surprised that you like it. Your lips press to the side of his face, above two of his tentacles, and kiss him. Vaussur closes his eyes and hums- you could feel him physically and mentally relax. His skin was strange, smooth and slick with a thin film of something; but you didn’t dislike it.

You pull back, parting with a little cup! as you did. Vaussur looks a little more… floaty, like he was dreaming.

“... Can you do that again?” He murmurs

You purse your lips together, hands letting go to twiddle your fingers, not quite knowing where to look.

Apparently Vaussur takes your hesitation negatively.

“I feel your nervousness, puppet. What’s the matter? … Did you not like it?”

You didn’t know mind flayers could even sound hurt, but he did, though he tried to hide it from you.

“No, no!” you stressed, “I’m just! It’s! … I’m just… shy.”

His eyes widen. You know what he must be reading from your mind right now: curiosity, interest, maybe even… fondness.

When you look at his mouth you feel a mix of emotions. Were you afraid? Were you excited…?  … No you don’t want ot think of what that meant, it’s too much. You stare for his mouth a moment longer while you try to gain the courage to kiss him.

You decided to work up to it.

Your hand reaches for a tentacle tentatively.

“Can I…? Touch your..?”

The tentacle flexes. Vaussur seems clueless as to what you want to do with it, but he lets you have it.

You give it a feather light touch, tracing a finger down its length. You realize how… sensual this feels, and you wonder if mind flayers ever enjoyed the pleasures of the body…? If they could? Vaussus gasps quietly, the tentacle reacting to your touch, twitching closer to you.

You’ve found yourself imagining what it was like to stroke his tentacles, of what would happen. Vaussur closes his eyes, letting you run your hand down. It’s smooth and slick with illithid mucous, cool to the touch, almost slippery. You think you like it. The other tentacles start to curl and sway closer around you, as if looking for your attention. You feel a sudden sense of pride fill you, at the effect you had on this mind flayer, just by touching him lightly.

His tentacles start their own exploration of you; timidly at first, but they quickly gain confidence and start to lavish you with tender caresses. One prods and brushes your cheek. Another traces along your collarbone curiously. The third free tentacle slides behind your back and holds you steady. The one you’re holding- clearly enjoying what you’re doing to it, curls around your arm.

You tittered. It’s like they had minds of their own. You wondered… what would happen if you kissed him on the tentacle?

You lift it up to you and give it a gentle peck.

Apparently, they were sensitive because as soon as you did, claws closed around your back and hips and pulled you flush against Vaussur’s chest, squeaking as he did. He lets out a deep, pleasurable sigh that turns your cheeks red while he grips you tightly, wantingly. You’d always assumed that a mind flayer’s body would feel cold, but even though his skin was covered in fluid, he was warm. Very warm.

So were you.

His golden eyes were glowing brighter than ever, his tentacles caressing you and start to float and curl languidly around you. His mouth is open before you, and your breath mixes with his.

You don’t feel fear.

“Please, my human,” he implores, “teach me. Teach me how you love.”

You didn’t hesitate this time. You felt naturally drawn to him. Willingly, you lean into him, his body, his feelings. You wrap your arms around his neck and somehow, your lips found his mouth and you started to kiss him.

As you expected, kissing Vaussur was nothing like the kisses you’ve experienced with other humans, or even other humanoids. You aren’t sure how to describe it, it felt you were kissing all around you rather than on one single spot, he surrounded you. His tentacles start to wrap you more tightly- around your head and neck. Though the thought of how vulnerable you were in this position with a mind flayer- that he could eat you so easily- did cross your mind, it only did so briefly. You were worried earlier that kissing a mind flayer with their mouths that opened four ways accompanied by lamprey teeth, meant to suction and grind into skulls might feel horrible but… you’re delighted that that wasn’t the case. The sensation of having him surround you and hold you so lovingly tightly was quite pleasant.

He hums, the sound vibrating around you. He starts floating backwards with you, slowly settling into his bed, his hands wandering, feeling you. You could feel him in your mind again, but he wasn’t intruding. It felt more like he was asking for your permission. You happily let him in, and you feel yourself cradled by his thoughts: soft, warm adoration for you.

Despite what the natural order tells you, you felt safe with him.

Vaussur had seemed confused earlier, not knowing what to do with himself while you spoiled him with your kisses, but he’d started becoming more confident, evident from the way he holds you and the tentacles’ affectionate touches. He starts taking control, sitting up a little and folding you backwards, reciprocating your kiss with new fervor, deepening it. His claws start to dig into you possessively, and you squeak, his power overwhelming you.

A flood of satisfaction floods your brain, and it isn’t yours.

I like those sounds. Vaussur’s voice purrs in your mind. Give me more.

You gasp and mewl, squirming in his hold, which only excites the illithid more, tentacles winding around your head tighter. One hand manages to stray from the tangle of limbs, only to quickly get reclaimed by his slender fingers, entwining with yours.

Don’t be scared, sweet human. He teases diabolically, I promise I won’t eat that delicious mind of yours. You’re safe with me.

You don’t know how long he kept you like that, hungrily taking your mouth while his hands and tentacles wander. When he was finally sated, Vaussur gently pries his tendrils off your face, and lets you go. You take a gasp of air, the blood in your head slowly draining away, and you cool down. You could feel warm imprints on your face where his tentacles and mouth were. Already, you find yourself missing the closeness you shared, his warm mouth on yours.

It felt like he was sucking your face in the best ways.

… You feel scandalized by your own thoughts, and you cover your mouth bashfully.

“I felt that.”

Damn it!

Vaussur chuckles, his eyes flickering with smugness. His gaze wanders over your face, like he was admiring his ‘work’.

He looks happy, eyes crinkling at you.

“Just like I promised. Your mind is still yours, untouched, undigested. Though… there are marks on your face. I rather like it.”

You don’t know how red your face is right now, fingers scrambling on it as if you could see it better that way.

“W-what?”

He chuckles again, and your frantic thoughts stop when a finger brushes your cheek.

“Thank you. For showing me that, puppet.”

Slowly, you smile, small and demure. “Your… welcome. Thank you for keeping my mind safe. I…” you swallowed, laughing nervously, “I liked it.”

Oh. Oh, he liked that.

“I did too. Immensely. You’re… incredible.” He praises you. “I would not be opposed to it if we did it again.”

You’re suddenly intimately aware of the fact that you were on his lap, practically straddling him, his arms keeping you close. He’s just invited you to another kiss, and you… like that idea. Sheepishly, you say the same.

“I… I wouldn’t either.”

You’re hoping you’ll get to kiss him again soon. Maybe more.

He lays you down beside him, and as he presses the top of his tentacles to your head, you realize it was his attempt at giving you a peck. You smile, and you instinctively curl into him, tentacles floating around you protectively.

Rest, human. He urges. You’ve done a lot today. Sleep.

You let him mentally compel you. It was nice, being able to sleep whenever you wanted without having to toss and turn before hand. You feel sleep quickly take you and your eyes fall close.

…

Vaussur stays up a bit longer after you, admiring his pretty ‘thrall’ that he feels lucky to have found. His fingers comb through your hair and behind your ear.

You’re… extraordinary.

You smile in your sleep as response. He thinks that might be the prettiest thing he’s seen in his illithid life: you being happy while you were with him.

He doesn’t think these soft, tender feelings are natural for a mind flayer. He wonders if he inhabits a human body.

You curl a little, trying to escape the chill, and Vaussur pulls a blanket up to you, and covers you. He needs to rest soon too, to shed his armor and sink into bed with you by his side.

His small… cute… vulnerable little human.

Whatever he may be in his previous life before the ceremorphosis, one thing is clear to him now.

He loves you.

And no one else can have you.

[moonselune]

I love your posts so much! I was wondering if I could request some post canon GN!mindflayertav x minthara (and whoever else you'd like to add)

I did choose just to do Minthara for this, but I did get really into it, so I hope you enjoy it!

Minthara x GN!Mindflayer!reader | Tentacles of the Dark

The Underdark bows before Minthara.

It is not an easy conquest, nor a swift one. The labyrinthine tunnels twist and turn in endless darkness, home to creatures that have never felt the warmth of the sun. The drow houses wage war amongst themselves, the duergar grasp desperately at their crumbling rule, and mindless horrors stalk the shadows, waiting for the weak to fall. Yet, Minthara carves her path through it all with unwavering precision, her enemies falling like chaff before the scythe.

And you—her most trusted consort, her Illithid lover—stand at her side.

You had feared, once, that she would see you differently after your transformation. That the warmth she held for you, as much as a drow raised in Lolth’s web could manage, would turn to something cold and calculating. That she would see you as a useful tool at best, an inconvenience at worst.

But those fears were unfounded. If anything, Minthara only loves you more fiercely.

She does not flinch from the writhing of your tentacles or the abyssal black of your eyes. She does not shy away from your hunger, nor from the power that thrums through your every word. She embraces it, revels in it, sharpens it to her advantage. In her arms, you are not a horror to be feared, nor a monster to be pitied. You are hers. Her love, her most prized weapon, her shadow in the dark.

And you conquer the Underdark together.

The war is brutal, but Minthara is relentless. Cities crumble before her armies, the banners of lesser houses torn down and trampled underfoot. In the court of the Underdark, where backstabbing is as common as breathing, none dare challenge her reign. Not while you stand at her side, a being of mind-breaking terror wrapped in the elegance of your new form.

It is not just your psionic strength that she values, nor the way your enemies fall to their knees with a single flick of your power. She values you—your mind, your cunning, your unwavering loyalty. And in turn, you devote yourself to her cause as deeply as you do to her love. And Minthara, ever the devoted lover, ensures you are well-fed.

You reach for a discarded brain on the battlefield, plucked from the corpse of some nameless soldier, only for Minthara’s gauntleted hand to strike it from your grasp.

"Absolutely not," she sneers, kicking it aside with disdain. "A peasant’s mind? Dull. Impotent. Beneath you."

You blink, tentacles twitching in bemusement.

"I was hungry," you say, watching the ruined organ roll across the ground.

Minthara exhales sharply, beckoning to one of her attendants. A scholar is dragged forward in chains, trembling beneath her gaze.

"I will not have my love tainted by the thoughts of the weak," she purrs, tilting your chin up with the sharp edge of her dagger. "Only the finest for you, my love."

The scholar barely has time to scream before you drink deep, his mind unraveling beneath your hunger. It is rich, layered—complex enough to satisfy, though it pales in comparison to the power that thrums through Minthara’s own mind. When you are finished, she is smiling in satisfaction.

"Better," she murmurs.

There are nights when the echoes of your past creep into the edges of your mind. When you wonder, briefly, what you would have been had the tadpole not rewritten you from the inside out. When you think of the mortal body you once wore, of the laughter and warmth you once held close.

But then Minthara’s hand finds yours, her grip firm, her presence grounding. She is not a woman prone to softness, not in the way others might be, but her devotion is ironclad. She does not whisper sweet nothings or coddle you with gentle reassurances. Instead, she pulls you close and reminds you, again and again, that you are hers.

She loves you in battle, where your psionic screams bring even the mightiest foes to their knees.

She loves you in court, where your mere presence bends the minds of diplomats and nobles alike, their lips spilling secrets they did not mean to share.

She loves you in private, where your many limbs and appendages trace lines down her spine, where your once-human hands now crave nothing but her.

Minthara is a conqueror, a warlord, a queen of the Underdark.

But for you?

For you, she is simply a lover.

And in the depths of the world that once sought to destroy you both, that is more than enough.

I was really worried how this would come out, I personally don't like the option to become a mindflayer and will never choose it. But I actually really liked the complexity of it and how different it was to write it. I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[oh-my-damn]

Cat Behavior

Pairing: Astarion x Female!Tav/reader

Summary: You've noticed certain behaviors in your vampire lover. And it's adorable.

Wordcount: 1600

Warnings: None. Pure, unadulterated fluff. Fun and sassy (and in love) Astarion. Astarion being a kitty-cat.

Masterlist

The best part about getting that damn worm inserted in his head was the fact it took away some of the side effects from being a vampire.

Astarion had never been able to enjoy the benefits of being one - for 200 years he was forced to do his masters bidding, always hiding in the shadows and being fed rats to sustain himself - if he was allowed to eat, at all. That's without even mentioning the things he was forced to do, the matter of his consent not even an afterthought in Cazadors mind.

But the tadpole had taken away those issues, even if it was only temporarily for now, which allowed him to enjoy the things about himself he hasn't been able to for the past 200 years. Those things included his speed and agility when fighting, using his fangs as both a weapon but also as a way to taste the sweetest nectar he could ever imagine. Nothing quite compared to sinking his teeth into your beautiful neck, the little shivers in your body as he drank from you.

Except maybe one thing.

The tadpole allowed him to be in the sun, again.

When the nautiloid first crash landed and he was thrown from it haphazardly, he thought it would be the end of him. He woke up on that beach, and he immediately felt heat - something he hasn't felt in several lifetimes. He thought that would be the end; that he would perish right there, on some disgusting beach surrounded by smelly fishermen and even smellier mindflayers, burning in the sun.

But when his scarlet eyes popped open after minutes of feeling that heat but no pain, he realized that whatever had been done to him must have had an affect on his vampirism, in some strange way.

And since then, he has cherished being in the sun – almost as much as he cherishes being around you.

You've noticed how he tends to gravitate towards the sunny spots wherever you go. The first time you took note of it was in Grymforge. Astarion had managed to find the only spot in your entire camp where, despite Grymforge being in the Underdark, a small beam of sunlight had made it's way through the rubbles.

You chose not to comment on it, though. It didn't surprise you to learn that he wanted to enjoy the sun for as much as possible, after hundreds of years of lurking in the shadows. Seeing him in that spot in your camp reminded you of the first time the two of you spent the night together - or rather, it reminded you of the morning after the two of you had spent your first night together.

Waking up to see him standing in that clearing, his eyes closed and head tilted backwards, soaking in the warmth of the sun. You hadn't fully realized what it meant at the time, being so early on in your acquaintance, but you understood now.

Which is why you've never mentioned it to him when you notice him subtly moving around whenever you're in camp, to try and find the best patch of sun to sit in. Part of you is unsure whether he is even aware he is doing it - it starts out with him leaning towards where the sun is moving, and then shifting short distances when it moves too far; all while still reading his book, or talking with the others, or drinking his wine.

The one time it does annoy you, however, is during times like today.

You're all back at camp, enjoying a well deserved half day off, and the sun has been beating down on you for most of the day. The afternoon is lurking, which means the sun is slowly moving across the sky, preparing to set for the day.

You're sitting around the un-lit campfire with the others, Karlach and Wyll sitting at your left, Gale and Shadowheart at your right, and Halsin and Jaheira straight across.

Everyone is talking casually or reading a book, seemingly all enjoying an afternoon of quiet resting before your next big confrontation interrupts it.

You and Astarion are sitting on a blanket, each of you with a glass of well deserved wine in hand. Well, perhaps sitting is not the right word; he is leaning back on his hands with his legs in front of him, and you're resting your head on his thigh. He's deep in conversation with Halsin, and you wouldn't have considered Astarion to be as interested in the druid as he seemingly is, if it wasn't for the fact you suspect he might be just a teensy bit attracted to the beefy elf.

You're having a conversation with Karlach and Wyll, the two of them asking questions about your past and defending their inquiries with the fact that you know so much about them and they barely know anything about you.

You're replying with chuckles and smiles for the most part, indulging them, carefully taking sips of wine with your head leaning on Astarions thigh.

The sun moves slightly on the blue sky, as it always does this time of day, and you want to curse at yourself for not seeing what happens next coming in advance.

Just as you're about to reply to one of Karlach's questions, your pillow (Astarion's thigh) is snatched away from under your head, resulting in it thunking against the grass. Your boyfriend shifts away, completely oblivious to what just happened as he lets out a delighted laugh at whatever Halsin tells him.

Your let out a hrmpf at the impact, your brows pulling into a frown when you sit up, rubbing the back of your head with your fingers, "Ow."

Karlach and Wyll both watch you with widened eyes, their gaze bouncing between yourself and Astarion, the latter still completely unaware of how he just moved away from you to accommodate for the moving sunbeam he always chases.

"What just happened?" Karlach muses, tilting her head. The question makes Astarion glance over at her, taking a sip of his wine, "What do you mean?"

You narrow your eyes when they find your lover, letting out another disgruntled noise, "My head just hit the grass, you oaf!"

You push at his shoulder (gently) to make your point, making him spill af few drops of wine, "Hey, watch it! This is a perfectly balanced red!"

You glare at him, his scarlet eyes searching your face in confusion, "Astarion!"

"What?!" He exclaims, looking utterly confused as he looks between you and the others, "What is it?"

"You made my head hit the ground when you moved, you doofus!" You exclaim in exasperation, scooting closer to him to get back to your former position, your lips forming a pout, "Apologize."

That makes him frown instantly as if the notion of apologizing is obscene, his nose wrinkling as he glances down at the blanket, "What are you talking about, I didn't even move?"

"Yes you did!" You exclaim, and Karlach chimes in with a "Yeah, you did," which makes you look at him pointedly.

Astarion's expression only gets more confused, but he glances at the others who look equally confused yet entertained by whatever is happening between the two of you right now.

You let out a dramatic sigh, sitting up to point at your former spot, "We were over here, now you're over here. See? You always do this."

"Do what?" He asks in annoyance, "I don't even remember moving."

"I know," you quip, grabbing his glass of wine out of his hand to take a sip, "But you always do it. As soon as the sun moves, you do too."

He blinks in surprise, and the others around you snicker in response.

"What do you mean?"

"You move with the sun, vampy," you jest, cupping his confused face in your hands, "And normally it's real cute, but not when I'm using you as a pillow. Got it?"

His eyes search yours, his lips lifting slightly at your teasing expression, but he looks a little embarrassed when he asks, "I move with the sun?"

"Uh-huh," you nod, ruffling his hair and making him sputter in protest, "Whenever the sun moves so you're no longer in it's direct path, you move to wherever you need to in order to get back in it. It's very cute, all things considered, but it's not very practical when I need to use your milky thighs for resting. Okay?"

He pushes your hands off at your little comment, making the others chuckle, and instead he reaches up to curls his hand around the back of your neck. He smirks, clearly embarrassed and a little flustered but trying to hide it as he pulls you closer, "All right, I think we all got it. I move with the sun."

"Yep," you quip, "Just like a kitty cat."

His eyes narrow as the others laugh, and then the two of you have a staring contest, each refusing to back down. Your smile turns wider, enjoying the teasing banter between the two of you, your previous gripe already forgotten.

"Are you calling me a cat, darling?" He asks, his voice lowered, "Is that what I am to you?"

"Yes, just a cute kitty. Like Halsin!" You muse, glancing over at the wood elf. Astarions eyes dart over to look at him momentarily, and you can tell he gets even more flustered when the large elf only smiles back at him.

"You hear that, Astarion? Guess we have more in common than we thought."

[obsessedwhyyes]

Beneath the Blood and Starlight

Summary: Awoken from a nightmare, you seek a moment of reprieve down by the river, only to find your mysterious vampire companion - covered in blood. As you help him with his mess, you realise that perhaps there's more to his rakish, teasing façade: a vulnerability that you had not anticipated. A moment of intimacy ensues.

Rating: T Word Count: 3096 Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Content: Act 1, pre-romance, fluff, early bonding, non-sexual intimacy, flirting, feral cat Astarion. Warning: Starts with a nightmare sequence featuring depictions of ceremorphosis, in case that's an issue.

A/N: What was meant to be a cute, fluffy little drabble grew arms and legs and turned into several thousand words. I wanted to explore some non-sexual intimacy, in the context of Act 1 where everyone is still learning about each other, so here we have some typical Act 1 Astarion flirting, some banter, and some exploration of Astarion - the person, rather than the vampire spawn.

It was a night like any other.

The campfire warmed the faces of the merry band of travelling companions you had accrued throughout the course of your journey. The strangest bedfellows one could ever imagine, but amidst the chaos of your journey up to now, the sound of laughter was a joyous reprieve; a rare moment of peace.

Your gaze was drawn inexorably to Astarion who sat across from you. Firelight danced across his pale skin as you watched him, and he caught your eye then. A mischievous smile played at the corners of his mouth and your heart fluttered, just a little.

“Darling,” he purred, raising a finger to point to you, “you’re bleeding.”

You were?

Your hand reached for your face, feeling a slickness trickling from your nose. Strange. You hadn’t noticed any pain.

Suddenly, the firelight seemed too bright, the laughter too loud.

Something was wrong.

You opened your mouth to speak, but your body was wracked instead with a fit of coughs. You could not breathe.

You doubled over, and an ache spread throughout your jaw - a pain unlike anything you had ever experienced. Your innards felt ready to burst out of you.

“Are you alright?” Astarion’s voice was tinged with an uncharacteristic concern. Moving quickly to your side, his cool hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. But as your eyes met his, you recoiled in horror.

A mindflayer.

Where Astarion’s once beautiful face had been, you were greeted with orange eyes, burning with malice, sharp teeth like cut glass within a tentacled maw, and slickened, wet skin. Yet, his voice remained the same, teasing and rakish - a jarring contrast that set your heart pounding, limbs begging you to flee.

You tried to scream, but your jaw felt wrong. It cracked, a sickening sound that reverberated through your skull. The pain was excruciating, blinding. Something writhing and slick attempted to push its way out of your throat and you choked.

Astarion-Not-Astarion’s hand, still cool against your feverish skin, stroked your cheek almost tenderly. “That’s it,” he cooed, his voice a twisted parody of his usual flirtatious drawls, “embrace the change.”

You looked around wildly. All of your companions had transformed, their familiar faces replaced by disgusting, terrifying… No, beautiful, evolved, magnificent alien features.

“Change,” they chanted. “Change. Change…”

You bolted upright, a strangled gasp escaping your lips. Cold sweat drenched your skin as you wildly scanned your surroundings. The familiar sight of your tent came into focus.

Your heart pounded in your chest as realisation set in. A dream. It was a dream.

It was a night like any other.

And that was precisely the problem.

Sleep, you decided, was no longer an option.

There was a river in the woods nearby and you were in desperate need to cleanse yourself of the sweat which clung to your still shivering body. Or rather, you needed something, anything to distract yourself. And so, packing washcloths, you left the confines of your tent and snuck away into the woodlands.

–

The sound of running water called to you, a moment of solace drawing nearer. Or so you thought, until a familiar figure came into view.

It was Astarion, sitting by the river's edge, moonlight gleaming across his pale… Bare skin.

Assuming you'd stumbled in on something you shouldn't have, you averted your gaze hastily, a blush crawling up your neck. “A-ah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude!”

“It's just my shirt, darling. No need for such modesty.” Astarion’s voice carried a hint of amusement, clearly privy to your embarrassment.

A moment passed as you attempted to recompose yourself. Looking up, he was indeed just shirtless. 

Thank the gods for that.

As you drew closer to him, you noticed the blood smeared across his face - evidence of a recent hunt.

Truth be told, he was a bit of a mess. Crimson streaks painted his cheeks and chin, with a particularly gruesome splatter across his left temple. Some of it had begun to dry, flaking at the edges. It was a stark, almost beautiful contrast against his pale skin - a reminder of the predator that lurked beneath his charming exterior.

You sat across from him, trying to ignore the way the moonlight played across his bare chest.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Out for a midnight stroll or were you just hoping to catch me in a compromising position?”

You rolled your eyes, though you were grateful for the familiar banter. You tried not to recall the events of your nightmare, the lingering tendrils of which still threatened to send you into a blinding panic. In a way, you were grateful to have stumbled across Astarion on your journey out here. As much as you told yourself otherwise, being alone was perhaps not what you needed right now.

“I just needed some fresh air,” you said, less than eager to give away the finer details of your predicament.

Your gaze fell on a needle and thread beside him, and a hole in his shirt draped across his lap.

“What happened?” you asked, nodding to his shirt, in a hasty attempt to change the subject.

“Ah, this? I was unfortunate enough to get tangled up with a particularly feral boar this evening. The little bastard didn't get very far though.”

Well, you thought to yourself, that explains the blood.

As he picked up the needle and resumed his repairs, long fingers moving with practised ease, you found yourself curious. “I didn't know you could sew.”

“I'm a man of many talents. I'd be happy to give you a… private demonstration, if you like.”

You sighed in mock exasperation. “Isn't it exhausting trying to talk your way into my trousers all the time?”

“Who says I was trying to talk my way into your trousers?” Astarion gleamed.

You fixed him with a doubtful look, eyebrow raised. In response, he reached into his pack which rested behind him, and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to you. As you unfolded it, you gasped. Delicate florals, intricate patterns adorned the fabric, embroidered with a meticulous care and skill that you would have attributed to the tailors and seamstresses of Baldur's Gate’s Upper City. It was as if he had captured the essence of a moonlit garden, with silvery threads weaving a tapestry of nocturnal blooms and shadowy vines.

“Gods, Astarion. You made this?”

He nodded, a flicker of genuine pride crossing his features.

“It's beautiful,” you breathed as you ran your fingers across the stitches. “What a wonderful talent to have.”

Something shifted in Astarion’s expression - a flash of vulnerability quickly masked. 

“Yes, well, one must find ways to pass the time. Keep it, if you like,” Astarion continues, attempting to feign disinterest. The look in his eyes told a different story.

“Thank you,” you said. You meant it.

A moment of silence passed between you, punctuated by the gentle bubbles and burbles of the river as it flowed.

“I don't think I have any special talents of my own,” you mused, more to yourself than to him.

Astarion glanced up, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I'm sure you have some hidden talents. I'd be more than happy to help you explore them, if you like. In my tent, perhaps?”

You raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze.

Astarion grinned, unabashed. “That time, I was trying to talk my way into your trousers.”

You laughed then and gods, did it feel good to laugh on a night like this, even with the familiar feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. This dance between you - this constant push-and-pull - had become almost comforting in its familiarity. Of course, you had considered his offer - he had not exactly been subtle about his intentions with you. But you weren't quite ready to give in. Not yet, anyway.

Your laughter settled, and something in the mood shifted as Astarion turned his gaze from you to the river.

“Truth be told, Cazador didn't give us much beyond the clothes on our backs. I had to learn some things for myself.”

The admission hung heavy in the air. His voice was uncharacteristically soft, despite the venom that laced his voice at his former master’s name. 

“I'm sorry,” you said softly. Once again, you meant it.

He shrugged, forcing a lightness into his tone. “It’s not all bad. Using my hands to create something beautiful - it's a welcome distraction. It lets me feel… well, not good, but less terrible for a while.”

You nodded. You never knew quite what to say in these moments. Astarion had only recently begun to open up to you regarding his past, and each story drew forth a maelstrom of emotions from you. Sadness at the gods-awful role he was thrust into; guilt at not having been there for him sooner; anger, not only at Cazador, but at those who had the opportunity to save him but chose not to, as though his vampiric nature made him less worthy of the safety that all who live, crave. You could only imagine the feelings which raged like a tempest in him.

It was in moments like these that you had to admire just how brave he really was.

You were snapped out of your ruminations when Astarion finished his mending. You caught a glimpse of a sharp, pointed fang as he used it to cut the thread - an action which shouldn't have been as fascinating as it was.

He stood and slipped on his shirt.

“Well?” He asked, with a twirl and a flourish. “What do you think?”

“Perfect as always,” you replied, then paused. “Except for, well, the blood on your face.”

Astarion’s eyes widened in indignation. “And you're only mentioning this now?”

You shrugged, fighting back a grin. “I thought the feral look rather suited you.”

“You absolute freak,” he scoffed, but there was no real heat behind the words.

“I can help if you want.”

As you dug into your pack to procure a washcloth, your intentions clear, Astarion’s reaction was immediate and visceral. He recoiled as if you'd brandished a weapon, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Absolutely not.”

Pride and uncertainty marred his voice. You recognised the look in his eyes - the same wary glance of a feral cat, torn between the desire for help and the instinct to flee.

“Come on,” you coaxed, keeping your voice soft, even. “It's not like you can look in a mirror.”

You had hoped humour would de-escalate the situation.

It did not.

For a moment, anger flashed in his eyes - a cornered predator lashing out. But as he met your gaze, something in his expression shifted. The fury melted to uncertainty, then a flicker of longing so brief you almost missed it.

Astarion’s body language was a mess of contradictions. He leaned slightly towards you, as if drawn by an invisible thread, only to catch himself and pull back. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, but the words lacked his usual bite. “I don't need– I mean, I'm perfectly capable of–”

“If you don't need my help, that's okay. We don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

Astarion’s eyes darted between your face and the cloth, held loosely in your hand. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“Why?” he asked.

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. Why are you helping me? Why care?

“Because I want to,” you answered simply.

Something in Astarion’s expression cracked then, a hairline fracture in his carefully constructed façade. He gave a jerky nod, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Well,” he said, his tone aiming for nonchalance but missing by a mile, “if you insist on playing nursemaid, who am I to stop you? Though I warn you, darling, caring for me can be a dangerous pastime.”

The words were pure Astarion - flirtatious, guarded, with a hint of threat. The words weren't quite acceptance, but they were close enough.

“I'll take my chances,” you teased softly, patting the ground beside you, prompting him to sit.

He complied with an obvious reluctance, perching on the edge of the riverbank as if the ground might swallow him whole.

As you wetted your washcloth in the river and moved closer to him - close enough to feel his cool breath on your skin - you notice him tense at the anticipation of your touch. His eyes were squeezed shut, face turned slightly away from you. But you were gentle as you placed the cloth to his cheek and began to wipe away the streaks of crimson from his face.

The sounds of the world around you dulled, faded to a murmur as you tended to him, as though the leaves had stilled their rustling and the river its gurgling. In this moment of suspended reality, your focus narrowed to Astarion’s face and the myriad of emotions playing across it.

His hesitation, his vulnerability - it struck you how monumental this simple act truly was. Here was a man - a vampire - who had known centuries of cruelty; who had learned to weaponise his charm and keep the world at arm’s length for his safety. And yet, he was allowing you to see him like this: uncertain, teetering at the edge of trust.

The weight of his concession settled over you like a blanket. Each micro-expression that flickered across his features told a story of internal struggle - the tightening of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow, the way his eyes squeezed shut as if bracing for pain that wouldn't come. It was a dance of contradictions; a battle between ingrained distrust and a longing for gentleness.

In this frozen moment, you realised that what you were offering wasn't just a clean face. It was acceptance, care, a touch unburdened by expectation or demand. And for Astarion, perhaps accepting it was an act of bravery greater than any he'd shown in battle.

With careful strokes, you cleaned the blood away from his cheek. You worked slowly, mindful of the tension in his jaw. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, he began to relax under your ministrations.

“Turn your head for me?” you asked, softly.

Astarion complied without a word, tilting his face to give you access to the other cheek. His eyes remained closed, but the furrow in his brow had softened.

You resumed your task, gently working your way across his features. A stubborn smear of dried blood at the corner of his mouth, another at the hollows of his cheekbones, droplets that had spattered at his forehead - all melted away before your eyes with each glide of the wet cloth, unveiling his pale skin.

As you worked, you found yourself studying him in a way you never had before. His elven features were a study in contrasts - ethereal beauty intertwined with the weathering of time and hardship. High cheekbones caught the moonlight, throwing delicate shadows across his face. His skin, where it wasn't marred by blood, was like polished alabaster, smooth and luminous.

As you gently moved to cleanse his temple, your fingertips brushed against a strand of his hair - silk curls spun from starlight.

Yet it was the imperfections that truly drew you in. Fine lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes, like a map of laughter and sorrow etched by the years. His brow, while regal, bore the weight of exhaustion, a testament to the burdens he carried.

There was something mesmerising in the juxtaposition - this timeless, otherworldly beauty marked by the unmistakable signs of an unlife born of hardships and losses yet unspoken between you. But each line, each weary shadow, only served to enhance a grace that time and pain could never fully erase.

Your hand paused, cloth hovering near his cheek, as you realised you'd been lost in studying him. In that moment, beneath the moon’s gentle gaze and the river’s whispered song, you saw not just the elf; the vampire; the mysterious travelling companion, but the man - beautiful, vulnerable, and utterly captivating.

Astarion’s eyes fluttered open, catching you in your reverie. For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. The air between you was filled with unspoken words and possibilities. 

It was… intimate.

“See something you like, darling?” Astarion’s voice was soft, lacking its usual sharp edge of sarcasm. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that made your breath catch.

You smiled softly, resuming your gentle ministrations.

“Just making sure I didn't miss any spots.”

You weren't quite ready to voice the thoughts swirling in your mind.

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by rippling sounds of water as you periodically dipped your washcloth in the river to wring it out.

As you shifted to clean the last traces of blood, you finally looked up again to meet Astarion’s gaze fully.

“There,” you said. “I knew there was a handsome man somewhere under all that filth.”

Astarion’s lips quirked into a smile - not his usual smirk, but something softer.

“Well, I suppose I should thank you for your… attentions,” he murmured.

The moment stretched between you, fragile and charged with possibility. For a heartbeat, you thought he might lean in; might close the distance between you. But the moment passed, leaving behind a mix of relief and something that felt dangerously close to disappointment.

You cleared your throat, breaking the spell.

“We should probably head back to camp,” you suggested, your voice steadier than you felt.

Astarion nodded, rising to his feet with his usual grace. As you gathered your things, you felt his eyes on you, thoughtful and considering.

“You know,” he said as you started back through the woods, “I think you might have one hidden talent.”

You glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow in question.

His smile was enigmatic, tinged with something you couldn't quite name.

“You have a remarkable ability to surprise me. And that… that is no small feat.”

As you made your way back to camp, the weight of your nightmare felt lighter. And if you walked a little closer to Astarion than strictly necessary, well, that was just to avoid tripping in the dark. Nothing more.

It was a night like any other and yet, as you settled back into your bedroll, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and Astarion. A new understanding, perhaps, or the first trembling notes of a melody yet to be fully composed. Whatever it was, it sang you to sleep, keeping the nightmares at bay just this once.

No Pressure Tag List: @roguishcat @silverfangmarks @sparrowbard

Masterlist can be found here.

[bvnnyjo]

let me be your mirror | astarion

pairing: astarion x gn!tav / reader

warnings: spoilers for early romance w astarion, fluff, kind of follows canon dialogue, reader pining hard, reader is an artist this has been done with this exact scenario surely, astarion calls reader “darling”, “my sweet”, also “dove” which isn’t canon, reader and astarion aren’t really together but i mean. yeah they are. not proof read!!!!!

word count: 1.1k

you had been drawing astarion for much longer than you’d care to admit. though the dates scribbled on the bottom of each page betrayed you, exposing that you had drawn astarion close to every day for a month.

it started off innocently, you drew all of your party members when you had first met them. you were stressed and overwhelmed with your situation at hand, the tadpole snugly sat behind your eye squirming to remind you of your devastating truth: you’d soon become a mindflayer if you couldn’t find a cure. on nights you couldn’t sleep or mornings you’d woken up early, you found yourself drawing. it had always been a way you’d let off your steam, now was no exception.

when the stress of your situation died down, as did your drawings of your now friends. you had a couple day’s worth of gale and lae’zel, and probably a week of shadowheart. but astarion? it seemed every time your tool of choice hit the paper he had been the outcome.

you weren’t ashamed of it by any means. astarion is a gorgeous man, blood sucking monster or not. his eyes captivated you (as proven by the amount of drawings of them alone), and his voice had your attention like no other. if the nature of things were any different, you might be willing to confess you were in love with him.

so when the night came and everyone had fallen asleep but the two of you, and astarion had let it slip that he hadn’t seen his reflection in two hundred years, your heart broke. he didn’t know the way his curls hooked around his ears, or the way the corners of his mouth would turn up ever so slightly when he’d successfully kill a goblin. and his eyes, gods his eyes. you’d have to be dense to miss the way they light up at the very sight of you. knowing he didn’t get to enjoy the very things you adore about him devastated you.

“what color were they before?” you asked, arms wrapped tightly around your legs to hug them close to your chest. “your eyes, before you were turned.” your cheek pressed against your knee as you looked to him.

“my eyes?” astarion sounded surprised you’d asked him such a thing. “i don’t..i don’t remember.”

that felt like the final nail in your coffin. your heart ached more for him now that it had before, if that were even possible. if he didn’t remember his eye color, his hair color was probably long forgotten as well. it felt impossible to wrap your head around, you knew the shade of your eyes and tone of your hair by heart. the idea of forgetting it, well, you were sure you’d have to be dead to forget.

“what’s going on in that head of yours, darling?” his tone almost made you forget your sadness. it seemed anytime he spoke to you now his words were laced with honey, drawing you in and sticking to you.

“you haven’t seen yourself in two decades,” you repeat his previous words back to him, “you hardly remember your own face, is that not the least bit devastating to you?”

astarion hesitated before replying to you, trying to chose his words carefully. “of course it is. but there’s nothing i can do to change it, so why bother being upset?”

you chewed the inside of your cheek. of course you had the solution. you had probably close to twenty drawings of his face alone that could provide him some solace about the entire thing. but what if he thought you were weird for it? none of them knew of your little hobby, he could expose it to the others and they could cast you out for invading their privacy. and well, your infatuation toward him was nothing short of romantic. you weren’t sure he needed to know that, but exposing your drawings to him would make it clear.

“i can feel your tadpole wriggling around, what’s wrong, my sweet?” his voice sent a shiver down your spine before you finally managed to speak.

“let me be your mirror,” you offered, raising your head from your knees. you could practically see his thought process, and you didn’t miss the small smirk on his face. “what do you want to know?”

“i want to know what the world sees when it looks at me,” astarion held his usual cocky tone for a moment, but for a second it faultered. “what you see.”

“close your eyes,” he obeyed, wondering what it was exactly you were making him close them for. it wasn’t until he heard shuffling in your tent beside him that he opened them and called out to you confused.

“what are you doing? what in your tent could ever allow you to be my mirror?”

“hush, would you?” you roll your eyes at him as you step out from your shelter and back toward him. you took a deep breath before sitting back down next to him, offering him the pile of papers. “here.”

for the first time since you had met him, astarion was speechless. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting from you, maybe a few put together compliments for him to tease you about before leaving the conversation at that. but this? he had no idea that you could draw, let alone that you’d use such a talent to draw someone like him.

“i know it might be weird, sorry,” you hide your face from him, afraid of his reaction. “i’m sure it might not be comforting to know someone you had barely known until recently has been drawing you for-”

“i don’t find it weird,” he interrupted you, gently grabbing your chin with his pointer finger and thumb, “look at me,” guiding your eyes to his, astarion offered you a smile. not a cocky smile or his usual smirk, but rather a real smile. one you weren’t sure you’d seen from him before. “thank you…for this. they’re beautiful. and i…i could never express my gratitude to you,”

you removed your chin from his hold and waved your hand at him, dismissing his words. “don’t say all that astarion. you make an amazing muse, it’d be criminal of me to not make use of that.” you chose to pretend the burning in your cheeks had been from the fire and not the blooming embarrassment.

“criminal, hm?” it didn’t take long for the astarion you had grown attached to to return, smirk plastered on his face. he leaned forward to press his forehead to yours before speaking again, his voice low and almost sultry, “well we wouldn’t want you to get arrested again, now would we, dove?”

“you ruined the moment, astarion,” you huff, pulling your legs back to your chest to rest your head on your knees again. “it’s getting late. we should sleep.”

astarion nodded, standing from his place and offering you his hand to help you up. “yes, i’d hate for a lack of sleep to ruin your muse,” he teased again, handing you back your drawings. “i’ll see you in the morning, darling.”

reblogs, comments, and likes appreciated !!

[wolfish-trickster]

In sickness

Astarion x female!reader/Tav

Word count: 3.9K

Summary: you wake up with an extremely high fever. As bad luck usually has it all companions have to leave the camp. All except the only undead one who has long forgotten what being sick feels like.

Warnings: angst to fluff, (child) SA and abuse, typos, possible bad grammar, i know jack shit about dnd (only have been obsessed with bg3 for two weeks) so some companions and over all logic might be ooc, enjoy :3

A/N: this is my first time writing for Astarion, I tried to be as accurate as possible from all the videos I've seen of him. Also I started writing this while having 39.9°C myself so reading it could feel like a fever dream 😅

"Karlach, can I hug you?" you mutter.

Everyone sitting around the campfire spits out their stew which Gale worked very hard on. All their eyes studied you as if you've already turned into a mindflayer.

"If you so desperately want to cuddle I volunteer," Astarion raises his hand.

Shadowheart yanks it down with a scowl. "As if she'd want to cuddle a bloodthirsty icicle."

"Unlike you my dear, my warm heart makes up for the cold body."

"What makes you think my heart isn't wamer than yours?"

"The clue is in your name, genius."

"As much as I'd love to, soldier," Karlach adressed you, completely ignoring the bickering of the two of them, "I'd hurt you and that's the last thing I want. But I appreciate it."

You didn't have the heart to tell her the truth after the sweet smile she showed you. But you had to. "I'm just," you hugged your shoulders even tighter, "I'm really cold Karlach. Maybe if you could, just a bit..."

"Warm you up?"

You nodded.

Gale studied your shivering frame. "Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," you dismissed him.

"Fine looks different," Shadowheart let Astarion's wrist be and walked up to you, cupping your cheeks, feeling your temperature. "You're hot."

"Wow, and water is wet," Astarion scoffed and took a sip of his wine.

Shadowheart glared. "I meant her body."

"Me too!"

"Her temperature, you fool. It's way too high," she turned back to you, eyes softer, "I know you're cold, but we can't warm you up. We need to pull your temperature down."

"No," you groaned. You felt like you were freezing. Cooling you down? Is she out of her mind?

"We have to! If your body warms up any more your organs could fail and we could lose you!"

Before you could protest she already started dragging you to her tent. Astarion creeping up behind you. "Excuse my intrusion but what kind of logic is that? Look at her! She's shivering and you want to freeze her even more?"

"A coldblooded guy like you won't understand," said Shadowheart as she forced you to lay down on her bedroll. "Humans have a certain body temperature at which all of their body functions work properly. If infection gets in the immune system rises the temperature in order to get rid of the virus or the parasite, since they can't survive high heat. Unfortunately neither can humans," she kept explaining as she searched for the correct vial in her bag. "If our temperature stays high for way too long some of our organs can fail which could lead to dire consequences."

"I know but please," you propped up yourself on your elbows, "all I need is couple of minutes. Then you can do whatever you want with me."

"Sorry," she said as she finally pulledout a small vial filled with icy blue liquid. "For how long have you had the fever?"

You shrugged. Around noon you noticed your face getting warmer but you guessed it must've been from the traveling under the sun with barely any shadow on your trail. Then as the sun kept getting lower and lower you still felt warm, even when the rest had to put on another layer of clothing to shield them from the soft wind. It was only an hour ago when your warmth left you, replacing it with freezing cold and shiver all over your body.

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter," Shadowheart gave you the vial. "Bottoms up."

You studied it. The liquid inside almost resembled water. Slightly colored but still. A big difference from dense potions she had in her arsenal. You opened it and drank it in one gulp. Coldness bloomed inside your chest and you wrapped yourself in whatever your hands reached.

Astarion crossed his arms. "Not that I doubt your healing abbilities but-"

"Then don't doubt them," Shadowheart smirked and pushed him out of her tent. "She needs rest now."

It only took minutes for your body to stop shivering. Your cheeks didn't feel like they were on fire anymore. Finally.

Your eyelids became too heavy for you to keep them open. Consciousness slowly slipped from you, but not before hearing faint voices of your companions.

"I should've taken her to her own tent though..."

"As if that makes any difference where she lays."

"But it does make a difference where I lay! Her tent is the only available now."

"Problem solved then."

"It's right next to yours."

".....well shit, Shadowheart."

☆

It was quiet. Awfully quiet. Not a good sign when it comes to your little group.

You attempted to stand up and go investigate but the entire world spinned beneath your feet. Yup, no walking for you today. Begrudgingly you layed down again, annayed at your weak body. Those times when you sprang up and fought goblins seemed like ages ago. Oh, how you took them for granted...

Shadowheart's tent opened. Even with closed eyes you could hear these footsteps weren't hers. They were soft, light, like a sneaking cat's. You opened your eyes. It took some time for them to adjust but even blurry you could make out curly white hair and pale face with two red eyes like two drops of blood on snow.

"What time is it?" You groaned.

"Almost noon," Astarion answered and sat down, cross-crossed right next to your flaming body. You couldn't take the heat anymore and threw the blankets as far away from you as you could, which was slightly past your feet.

"I take it you're not cold anymore?"

You shook your head. "Where is everyone."

"Shadowheart and Gale went to a nearby village to fetch some medicine for you. Karlach went with them to," he coughed a bit and imitated Karlach's voice, "protect them since our bravest soldier is fighting her own battles. In my opinion she just wants to check out the local tavern. It has been some time since we've come across a decent one. I swear the bigger the city the more their wine tastes like vinegar," he scrunched up his nose and you giggled.

"You could've went with them. Maybe you'd find a fine wine bar and restock. Or you were too worried about little ol' me?" You teased.

"Oh please, I'm not some drunkard who can't go a month without a fine bevarage. Even though their offer was tempting I selflessly volunteered to stay behind and look after you," he waved his hands around like a diva that he is. "So tell me darling, what ails you?"

You turned on your side, facing him, eyes closed. Just yesterday you would've given anything to feel warm, you'd even risk it and throw yourself into a bonfire. But now you wanted nothing more than to jump into a frozen lake instead. "I'm hot."

"I'm aware."

"Astarion," you moaned out his name to which he chuckled. Not the first time he heard his name fall from your lips like that.

"Alright, what am I supposed to do? All the instructions I got were "look after her" with no other details."

You sighed. "Just bring me a glass of water please."

It took some time but at last Astarion marched into Shadowheart's, now temporarily yours, tent. He found you eyes closed splayed out like a starfish on the slightly cooler ground, the warmth of the bedroll long forgotten. Astarion croched down and brushed his fingers over your sweaty forhead. It felt almost as if he touched a burning oven.

Shadowheart's words echoed in his mind. High temperature for way too long, failing organs, dire consequences. Damn it, for how much longer are they going to stay on their little field trip?

Your soft sigh pulled him out of his thoughts. Unknowingly he placed his full palm on your burning forhead which pulled out a soft content humm from you. What does Shadowheart call him? Cold blooded?

"Darling," he leaned in and whispered to disturb your short nap as little as possible, "I have an idea. I will attempt to cool you down with my body until your medicine comes. We'll finally have a proper cuddle, what do you say?"

Eyes still closed you nuzzled into his cold palm even more. Astarion took it as a yes. A big mistake on his part.

☆

You were slipping in and out of consciousness. Pain pounded in your head and if that wasn't enough the whole world kept on spinning and spinning. You heard voices. Something cold on your forhead. It felt nice. Comforting. You whined a bit when the cool object left. However you didn't have the energy to chase it and return the good feeling. Something shuffled in the background. Some fabrics. You couldn't care less, you just turned on your side, ignroing the uncomfortable feeling of your sweaty shirt clinging to your back.

The hem of the shirt moved up. Someone was pulling it off of you. Panicked you opened your eyes, unable to make your vision focused and clear. All you could see was a shirtless male body, much bigger than yours, hovering above you. Two blurry limbs pulling your shirt over your head. Something came back to you, a distant memory. One you naively thought has left your brain for good. Tears welled up in your eyes and you weakly tried to push the fabric down to cover yourself again but the stranger was stronger.

"No, please no," you whispered, unable to make any louder sound out of the weakness.

"Relax, I know you don't want to but Shadowheart-"

"No," you said a bit louder. You couldn't remember what or who was Shadowheart, or whose voice was speaking to you. The only thing on your mind was escape. It was only after the man has fully taken off your shirt when you gained enough strength to scream. "Robert stop it!"

Your leg flew up in a weak attempt to kick but he caught it. "What?"

When you realized your old trick won't work again you wriggled your ankle from his grasp and curled into the smallest ball you could. Your eyes stang with hot tears, body shaking from both the temperature and the fear. Trembling you waited. Waited for him to do something, anything. Nothing happened. No rough hands roaming parts of your body you didn't want touched. No further stripping. After a long time your heart finally stopped pounding in your chest, your tears have dried. Your headache has gone too. With a clear vision and even clearer mind you started to remember. You weren't a kid anymore. This wasn't your grandma's cottage. And the man patiently sitting in the corner with his head down was...

"Astarion?"

His head snapped towards yours. "There you are," he put on one of his charming smiles. A fake one as you've learned over the months. "For a second I thought you've been overcome by the worm already," he let out a chuckle. A high pitched one. The one he uses to mask his true feelings.

Your hand brushed your dry cracked lips and he understood. Cold water streamed down your throat, spreading the relieving coolness all over your chest. Once you've finished the glass Astarion put it beside you, tucked couple of blankets over your half naked bidy and moved to the corner again, as far away from you as possible. You grabbed his sleeve. "Stay."

"I can't."

"I'm sorry."

"What?" His eyes met yours, confusion swimming in his blood red irises. "Darling you have it a bit twisted. I should be the one apologizing," he took your hand in his and forced your fingers to stop clutching his clothes. It was still flaming hot. Not even the cold water has helped...

"No, I- hmm," you sighed and looked away.

Astarion sat down and studied you. For the first time he appreciated his skill of reading people in order to please them. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Your lips formed a thin line, eyes began to water.

Astarion raised his hands up in a panic. "Or not. Forget I ever said anything. Let's just wait until the rest returns. Until then we could play some nice games. Everyone loves those! Alright, I spy with my eye something that is blue. Guess what?"

His usual bravado was back. Not a hint about the concerned vulnerable Astarion that peeked out a second ago. You wanted that Astarion. No, you needed him. Out of all people he is the only one that could understand.

"Astarion."

"But darling, I'm not blue," he chuckled and attempted to give you the warmest eyes possible. "Try again."

"No, I-I want to tell you. What happened to me. Maybe I'll feel better afterwards?" You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes. Begging the soft Astarion to come to you.

He did. His over exaggarated smile fell into a sympathetic one as he proped up his chin on his hands. "Alright. I'm all ears."

You nodded. Suddenly you had no idea how to even begin. Where to begin?

He noticed your struggle. "It's alright, take your time."

"I just don't know where to begin..."

"From the start. That usually works," he playfully nudged you to lighten up the mood.

You rolled your eyes but with a soft smile. Alright. You've carried it inside for long enough.

"When I was a child my parents had to go on business trips a lot. They usually dropped me at my grandmother's house. She had a small cottage in the mountains. No neighbours, no kids, no friends. I hated going there," you turned on your side, facing him as memories from your childhood filled your mind. The long journey to her cottage. The cakes she always baked just for you, to get your energy back after such a trip. The smell of the cottage filled your nose; blueberry pie, old wood, moss. How you used to love that smell. It was the only good thing about that lonely place.

"But, once in a while my cousin visited."

"Robert," Astarion whispered more to himself than to you. As he slowly started putting the pieces of this puzzle together he realized how horribly scared you must've been few minutes ago.

You continued. "He was quite older than me. I loved him. He was the big brother I always wanted. We stole cookies together, he taught me how to climb a tree. He played with me lots and lots," you smiled during remembering of the nice parts. Then the ugly chapter of the story came. Your mouth fell into a straight line, your eyes lost all shine. "One day we begged grandma to make us a pie with forest fruit. She promised to fill the biggest basket she owned with berries and make us the best pie we've ever eaten. Then she closed the door and my cousin suggested we play a new game."

Your arms curcled around your shoulders. Subconsciously pulling yourself into a smalle curled ball again. "I didn't know the rules. He never explained them. But then he took of his shirt. And wanted to take mine off too. I tried to fight him off but he pinned me to the ground. That bastard ripped apart my favourite dress."

Astarion opened his mouth, ready to pull you back into present, to stop you from reliving that horrible moment.

"But," you said, "he was always clumsy with his belt. Always wanted to have a dagger tied to it. I kicked it and it ripped his stomach. Left quite the wound."

That....wasn't what Astarion expected. "My, you were feisty even in your childhood," he purred.

You chuckled. "Not really. I was aiming for the crotch but my legs were too short," Astarion chuckled and the shine returned to your face again. "My grandma came back before he could bleed out. She saved him. When she asked what's happened he said we were just playing. Then he left and I haven't seen him for ten years. When we met again he never even mentioned it, as if it never happened. He never told anyone. Neither did I. And neither will you."

Astarion nodded. "Cross my heart and hope to- uh. I promise."

"Thanks," you rolled on your back again. "Actually now that I've said it out loud, it doesn't sound that bad, you know? I mean, he didn't do anything to me, but I actually drew blood. If anything, he should be the traumatized one, not me."

You couldn't see it but Astarion's face flipped between multiple expressions. Shock, confusion, anger, and finally sympathy. "Let me stop you right there darling. First of all, don't ever dismiss it because "nothing happened". Something has happened and you have every right to feel what you do. Second of all, even though he's your family, in my humblest opinion he deserved to bleed out right then and there for scarring you. And third of all," he carefully took your hand and you sighed at the contact with something cool, "I'm always here for you. Just as you were always there for me. Don't close yourself from me. I know the feeling and trust me, it's better to let it out. Like you've taught me."

You squeezed his hand, grateful for his words. You did feel better, mentally. But physically you were ready to die.

"Astarion, could you do something, please?"

"Anything my love."

You bit your lower lip nervously and stared at your joined hands. "Could you cuddle with me? Shirt off and all that. Just like you wanted before I..."

His eyes grew concerned. "Are you sure?"

You nodded. Slowly you took the blanket off of you and propped yourself up on your elbows. You were sick of lying down all the time.

Astarion reached out to steady your frame as you slowly came to sit on his lap, straddling it. You hugged his cold torso and sighed in pure pleasure. This is exactly what your overheated body needed. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and clung to him like koala. To your dissapointment Astarion's hand remained respectfully on the waistband of your pants.

"Hug me back. Please," you whispered into his pale skin.

Reluctantly his arms circled you, carefully as if you could break if he held you too tight. After seeing your reactions his hands started to draw circles on your back, spreading the coolness all over it.

The two of you have been together, joined body and soul, multiple times. Even in a position like this with no pants as bariers at all. But this...this hug. It was by far the most intimate you've ever been with him.

He held you like that for hours. Even when his legs have long fallen asleep he didn't want to end this just yet. Out of all the times he has had creatures of all shapes and sexes ride him and cling to him just like you were now, what you did was different. Pleasant. For the first time he truly felt needed, in the most innocent way possible.

After your vertigo came back you wanted to lay down again but Astarion coukdn't let the feeling end yet. So there you were now, chest to chest, your arms hilding his torso tightly against yours, your hot cheek resting against a place where Astarion's heart would be beating out of pure joy if he was still alive. It only took couple of strokes on your back and you were gone, off to the dreamlands. Astarion would've followed you if it wasn't for the ruckus outside the tent.

"Tav, we're back!" Gale ripped apart the closed flaps on the tent.

"And we have a medicine for you! It took a while of persuasion but at last we have a potion for you that will pull you right back onto your feet," Shadowheart said proudly as she held up a vial with thick purple liquid.

"Shush you foold," Astarion pressed his index finger to his lips. His other hand came up to cover the little bit of your sideboob that was peeking out at the world. Respectfully tho, no touching at all. Just hovering above it.

Gale, Shadowheart and Karlach stared at the spectacle before them.

"What? I finally got to use my cold bloodedness for good," Astarion said proudly. "See how I'm becoming a goody two shoes like the rest of you? I'll be concidered a hero in no time!"

Ignoring him Shadowheart crouched down and felt your forhead with the back of her hand. Than your cheeks. "I hate to admit it, but you cured her," she stood up, "no fever at all."

"It could be temporary though," Gale pointed out, "as soon as Astarion stops...hugging her, her temperature will shoot right back up."

"All the more reason for me to keep holding her. An excelent observation wizard."

Gale frowned but said nothing. He did walk into his own trap there after all.

Karlach tapped the corc closing the vial. "What do we do with this then? Since Fangs has cured her on his own."

"We could store it for worse times. Or we could get high as hells from it. I did read it has different effects on healthy bodies," Shadowheart thought out loud while examining the potion in her hand.

"I wote for number two," Gale's arm shot up.

"I wholeheartedly concur," Karlach joined.

"Me too," Astarion held up his hand as well.

Shadowheart kissed her teeth. "No fun times for you. You need to be in full consciousness in case your patient gets worse."

Disapointed, Astarion let his hand fall back between your shoulderblades. "I guess that's a small price for having her body blissfully cliging to mine," he smirked at Gale.

"Get your fill while you can," the wizard said and took the vial from Shadowheart's hand. "When she's healthy again no right mind would want to cling to a piece of ice."

With that he stomped out.

"Thankfully, none of us are in their right mind in any time of the day," he smiled and like a cat that got its treat nuzzled his head ontop of yours.

"I do have one request," Shaodheart said before she could exit the tent. "Get out of my tent. I finally want to sleep."

"Oh, how lovely of you to say that, kicking out a caretaker with his patient out into the wilderness," carefully he stood up, his hands supporting your legs wrapped around his waist, "with no weapon whatsoever," he walked passed her out of her tent, "how much cruel can you be."

"Even more if you don't stop whining."

Astarion couldn't care less to shoot her a sarcastic remark back. You stirred in his embrace. He stopped in his tracks, ready to pull you back into present in case you slipped again. None of that was needed. You only snaked your arms around his neck and sighed his name into his neck, your breath tickling the two bite scars on the side of it.

And while Lae'zel and Wyll that have just returned from their own mission dealt with their three companions getting higher than the ceiling, back in your tent Astarion has been getting hits of his very own drug. You.

And he has already become way too addicted.

[ghost-proofbaby]

mind blown (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: when you get a certain achievement while playing baldur's gate 3, it catches your boyfriend's eye.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: slight spoilers for baldur's gate 3 game, TALK OF MONSTER FUCKING/TENTACLES, you literally have the option to fuck a monster in the game and that is the premise for this one-shot. it isn't described in great detail, but is a background bit. and eddie makes fun of you for it. a lot. oral (f receiving, insinuated m receiving at the end). use of nickname "good girl". minors dni.

wc: 3.5k+

a/n: for anyone who was forced to witness me rizz the emperor on my last bg3 stream - consider this my... apology? half the time i was writing this i couldn't take it seriously so please laugh with me.

also, shout out to @hellfire--cult for the best possible divider EVER.

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: MIND BLOWN! 

You don’t even notice when the notification pops up in the lower left corner of your screen. It’s the smallest of blips, hardly signified by the quiet ding from your Steam account in a pitiful attempt to congratulate you for the monstrous crimes you were currently committing on your screen. 

But hey, you’ve got to experience the entire game, right? 

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you click on the second dialogue option, eyes locked on your screen is disbelief in your own actions, “What the fuck.” 

2. Take its tentacle in your hand, invite it in.

You watch in absolute awe as, who would have guessed, your Tav takes the tentacle in their hand, inviting the Mind Flayer in. 

Oh, you’re not seeing Heaven for this. You’re getting kicked straight to Hell, receipts pulled up of this very moment in your lifetime. That time you only cackled when your younger sibling broke their wrist? Fine. That time you let a door slam shut on some random grandma? Forgivable. 

But making your video game character fuck the tentacled-should-be-enemy? No, yeah, you’re heading straight to the flames. 

“Oh. My. God.” 

You really, really, really should have noticed the achievement notification. Should have considered the fact that this was an achievement at all. Should have considered that your achievement would be public. Should have noticed who was currently online, and who would be getting the notification of your sins. 

Should of thought of your boyfriend, in the living room, playing the very same game on your shared gaming laptop that had been reduced to solely allowing the two of you to play Baldur’s Gate 3 at the same time. 

But you’re too entranced by tentacles and embarrassment and shit, is this kind of hot? Is The Emperor kind of hot? to think of any of this until it’s too late.

One moment, you’re leaning far more forward than you had realized, drawn into the screen as your mouth hangs wide open in that continued naivety of disbelief that the game actually allowed this, and the next, two hands are landing on the back of your chair and shaking you out of the trance. 

“Shit!” you can’t help but scream, scrambling wildly to yank off your headset with flailing hands. A few of your knuckles connect with something hard, and you spin quickly to find Eddie standing there with a hand clutched over his nose, “Oh my God, baby, I’m so sor-”

“Are you fucking the mindflayer?” he all but yells, not looking to be in an ounce of pain even as he continues to shield his face where your hand had blatantly smacked him. His eyes catch the screen in the same trance you had just been under before yelling out, “Holy shit, you’re fucking the mindflayer!” 

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“You are literally fucking the space squid right now.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re fucking a glorified piece of sushi right now. You are literally-”

For the second time in the span of what hasn’t even been a full minute, your hand slaps Eddie’s face. This time, it’s more purposeful, slamming your palm right over his mouth before he can continue what you can’t even be sure is teasing. 

And you’re missing the entire scene. Thank God for learning to quicksave as a reflex, you suppose. 

“Eddie, I swear to God, do not speak another word when I drop my hand,” you threaten, no real violence behind your words as he glowers at you. You can see all that mischief swirling behind the look he gives you, every possible bad idea to ever exist in this Universe manifesting in those big brown eyes as they stare widely into yours. “Do you understand?”

He nods. Your mistake for trusting him, you suppose. 

The moment your hand has dropped from him, it reveals that giddy smile, dimples screaming for your instant regret before he even opens his mouth to say, “Play it again.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Go ahead,” he waves towards the screen where the scene is beginning to wrap up, your current companions interrupting the moment in horror. If you had still been entranced, you would have been an absolute mess. But all your focus had been stolen away to the boy towering over you, “Reload the save. Replay the scene for me.” 

Your brows furrow as you cross your arms, shaking your head, “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you repeat yourself more firmly, leaning into your stubbornness, “I am not replaying the scene for you after you just made fun of me for partaking in it.”

Eddie wastes no time pouting as he throws himself down onto the bed nearby, looking at you with unimaginably forced disappointment, “Come on. You’re no fun.” 

You hate how cute he looks right now. Bottom lip jutted out for dramatic effect, legs splayed out to straddle the corner of the bed. He leans back on his arms, torso elongating as you watch him take every steady and expectant breath. He looks determined. 

Unlucky for him, you’re just as stoic in your decision.

“C’mon,” he whines softly, changing his approach when he realizes the cocky exterior isn’t chipping away at that set look on your face, no faltering in your decision to ignore his request, “Please? We both know that I’m not going to be fucking the squid, so this is my only chance to see the-”

“He’s not a squid,” you groan, starting to turn your chair to face the screen again and continue your gameplay, “Might I remind you just how hot my guardian was prior to the whole tentacle reveal? You can’t even blame me for succumbing to this, you know.” 

His lips press together tightly, biting back a grin.

“Your guardian was very hot. But, pray tell, baby, why did you choose to fuck the tentacled version?” You’re not having this conversation. You blatantly refuse to, picking your headphones back up and beginning to slip them over your ears when Eddie’s hand shoots out to stop you, “Wait. I have an idea.” 

“I’m not reloading the save so you can see the scene, Eddie-”

“What if…. I technically don’t watch the scene?” 

You halt all movement willingly, headphones still hovering in midair even as Eddie takes his hand away. “What do you mean?” 

He leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs, sly smile shimmering on his lips as he finally abandons the god-forsaken pout. He’s radiating pride as he simply asks, “Wanna have your mind blown in real life?” 

Your entire body flushes with heat, starting to actually get embarrassed that Eddie wasn’t letting this go. 

“With God as my witness, if you do not stop making fun of me for this, I will kick you out of this room and lock the door.” 

“I’m not making fun of you,” he says slowly, inching off of the bed, dropping to his knees on the carpet of your shared bedroom, “Not in the slightest, sweetheart. I’m making you an offer.” 

You eye him cautiously as he slowly makes his way closer to you. When he’s nearly tucked under your desk, you’re quick to bring your knees up, still terribly weary and unsure of where he’s going with this. 

“What do you mean then, having my mind blown in real life?”

Eddie’s smile has gone downright salacious as he easily fits himself under the desk that holds your computer, situating himself perfectly so that if you were to drop your legs back down, he’d be kneeling prettily between your knees. 

“Reload the scene. And drop your legs, yeah?” 

He says it so casually, nonchalance dripping from his tone as if he’s just asked you to pass him salt or inquired about the weather rather than the actual request he was insinuating. It has your knees pressing more tightly together, your chin dropping on top of them as you stare down at him in the cramped space. 

“Are you… are you seriously suggesting what I think you’re suggesting right now?” you question, each word falling from your mouth slowly. 

It had been a while since either of you had really gotten your hands on one another. Not on purpose, of course. The two of you had simply fallen victim to the immersive game, spending most of your free time either playing your individual campaigns or joining one another on a multiplayer one. Afternoons melted away from gameplay, and the two of you were usually already to the point of exhaustion once you’d end up in bed together. There had been a certain lack of affectionate touches, suggestive squeezes of your thighs and faux-innocent kisses of the neck. And neither had noticed, minds equally preoccupied on thoughts of pixelated characters and harrowing journeys over a screen. 

You can’t remember the last time either of you outright suggested sex. 

“Deathly serious,” you can see the shine of his teeth as he flashes them in the dark space. You continue to hesitate until he quickly adds on, “Only if you want to, of course. If not, I can always fuck off and leave you to Squidwar-”

“I want to,” you interrupt, ignoring the new nickname for the Mind Flayer that he had started to taunt you with. You carefully let your feet slip off your chair, avoiding knocking him in the face with your ankles. He aids you, a careful hand running from the back of your knee and down your calf as he guides your legs to rest on his shoulders. The fact that you had started gaming without pants was suddenly very helpful. 

“Good girl,” it’s sort of ridiculous, the way his words cut right to your core, nearly making you let out a small gasp. Your body is suddenly very aware of just how long the accidental bout of celibacy had been, “A few rules before we begin. You’re going to reload the scene, and really watch it this time. Headphones and all, got it?” 

He places a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, and this time, you can’t bite back your little gasp. It only elicits a chuckle from him as you eagerly nod. You could care less about the game at this point, but you can’t seem to find the words to tell him this. 

“If you stop focusing on the scene, I stop eating this pretty little pussy.” 

If you weren’t so light-headed from the way his breath hits your clothed core currently, you’d probably see just how ridiculous this entire scenario was. It was downright laughable. Even a little shameful, honestly. By no means was it the weirdest situation that you and Eddie had turned into a game of sex, but it was certainly up there. 

God, you were in love with a fucking weirdo. And it made you just as weird, if not weirder, as he was. 

He gently slaps at your knee, forcing your attention to focus back on him, “Got it?” 

“Got it,” you manage to choke out just as his hands begin to trail up to your hips, playing with the lace of your panties teasingly. 

You lift yourself ever so slightly off the chair as he slips your underwear off, bringing the fabric down agonizingly slow. He has to shuffle plenty, guiding your limbs around just to finally remove the garment, but you hardly pay attention to all that awkwardness. Your Tav is still on the screen, awaiting instruction just as you were. 

When Eddie finally has your panties off, knees back to hanging on his shoulders, you can hear him let out a soft groan at the sight of you. 

“Fuck,” he sighs gently, leaning his cheek against your knee ever so slightly, “The tentacles really do it for you, huh? Already fucking soaking-”

“Shut up about the tentacles,” you groan out, throwing your hand back in exasperation, “For the love of God, please shut up about the-”

“Ah, ah,” he tsks, pulling farther away from you, “Might I remind you the whole point of this is all those tentacles on your screen right now, baby? Maybe I should have you hook up your speakers instead of your headphones just to make sure I can hear the entire scene.” 

You’d honestly forgotten about the scene at this point. It was the least intriguing part of your evening now. 

When you stay quiet, biting your lip to avoid making anymore smart ass remarks that would only prolong what you desperately wanted, desperately needed, he finally takes it as his cue. 

That damn grin, dimples and all, look up at you with all the ill intent in the world as he gestures for you to slip on your headphones. You do it immediately, and just before you’ve fully engulfed your ears with them, Eddie says, “Now, please do the honors, and hit F8 for me, doll.” 

Immediately, the only noise you can hear is the ambience from the game. One swift punch of your F8 key pauses it entirely, sudden music replacing it as the reload screen appears on the computer. Eddie waits, staring up at you for a few moments, probably having memorized just how long these damn reloads take from how much the two of you save scum in the game (Ironic, given during your first playthroughs, he’d scolded you endlessly for save scumming rather than just trusting the dice and letting it all play out.) 

After a few beats of stillness, you can see the scene prepared and ready for you to begin to click the options again to initiate the scene in your peripheral. Your eyes are still locked on Eddie’s, though. 

He makes no move to move any closer to you, though, still smirking before he finally mouths ‘watch the game’. 

It’s only once you do as you’ve been told that he has his mouth on you. 

He starts slowly as you distract yourself with the screen, peppering kisses along your knees and inner thighs, working his way towards your pussy. Teasing you, taunting you, dangling what he knows you want so badly that it aches and has you spasming around absolutely nothing. It takes more effort than you could care to admit to focus your vision on the dialogue options, and even more to remember which one is going to initiate the goddamned scene. 

When your shaking hand reaches for the mouse and finally clicks the correct option (thank God), his mouth finally hovers over your slick folds. 

Whatever the Emperor says falls on ringing ears. Subtitles are useless, the words blurring together on the screen when his tongue takes its first stride across your core. 

Your knuckles are paling from how tightly you grip your poor mouse, and you almost consider what you would do if this situation leads to you breaking such a vital piece of the shared gaming setup, but Eddie’s mouth is quick to distract you. You feel the vibrations of the hums falling from his lips just as they trail to wrap around your clit, forming suction as he gives one harsh suck that has your mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Your eyes can barely manage to stay open as you blindly click for the next dialogue option being presented.

Kiss the tentacle and hope that it’s an erogenous appendage. 

Not quite the same path you’d taken before, but it’ll get the job done. Especially when Eddie’s fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs even harsher, pressing himself even harder against you as his tongue dances over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Kitten licks, but every single one sends a bolt of electricity up your spine. 

The sound that comes from the Emperor in the game doesn’t matter to you, completely overridden by the audible groan you can just barely catch from Eddie as your headphones begin to slip off. 

Was that… a good sound? 

You hadn’t noticed you’d breathily recited the words you read across the scene until movement below the desk catches your eye, and Eddie is nodding into your cunt more eagerly than the character on the screen could ever be capable of. 

It’s the type of eagerness that has you whimpering, the kind of enthusiasm that guides one of your hands away from the keyboard and down to tangle into the roots of Eddie’s curls. 

He’s going to be the death of you. 

His grip tightens until he’s tugging your hips hard enough to bring you further slumped down in your seat, letting your thighs cradle either side of his head. His nose bumping your sensitive clit as his tongue circles teasing against your entrance. Once, twice – and then it dives in, pushing you to arch your back, a soft cry leaving you as you yank at his hair. 

With a heaving chest, you find yourself reciting another line of words from the screen despite making no move to click any options, “Do it again. Please, God- do it again.” 

He lifts to look at you at that, smiling wide with glistening lips and chin alike, “God? Oh, you’re making me blush, babe.” 

“Eddie-” you start, but a smack on your thigh from one of his ringed hands effectively shuts you up. 

“Play the game, and I’ll do it again.” 

Your hand smacks against the mouse, and you must click the right option, the exact command you’d just demanded of Eddie, because the scene continues on. 

You’re not watching the screen. Not consistently. Your eyes can’t stop flickering down to your boy, to his dark eyes shining up at you as he keeps his face buried between your thighs, the only thing giving away his current grin being the slightest crinkle beside those eyes. 

The entire sequence from before is simply playing out, just as before, but your mind stays on the feeling of Eddie’s tongue on you. When he releases one of your thighs and brings his fingers into the mix, stretching you out far more fully than his tongue had, you’re preening beneath his touch. Gasps, moans, whimpers, sobs – they all fall from your lip as he knows just how to work you. All the right touches to bring your neglected body to the precipice, practically worshiping you on his knees as the brightness of the screen exposes your face to him. Eyes tightly screwed shut, mouth wide open, lips swollen from poor attempts to keep your noises down through biting them. 

It only encourages him further. Only has him forgetting entirely about the game as well, the only goal on his mind being making you cum on his tongue. 

And you do. 

In hot waves, broken calls of his name, both hands tugging mercilessly on his hair. Your thighs are squeezing his cheeks tightly as you clench down on his fingers. 

Somewhere between all the whispers of his name, numerous squeaks of please falling from your mouth, he slows down. He gives you a chance to bask in the after-warmth of it all, your entire body buzzing as you catch your breath. You truly, genuinely hadn’t expected to cum that quickly. But it had been a while, and if anyone knew your body well enough to get you off in record speed, it was the man currently still seated on sore knees with a winning grin on his face. 

“Your headphones aren’t even on anymore, you cheater,” he teases, sounding just as out of breath as you felt. 

You detangle your fingers from his hair, retracting your hands just far enough for one of them to flip him off, “Shut up.” 

Your eyes are still closed, head leaning back almost painfully as the headphones cut into your neck. If you could live in this moment forever, you probably would. 

He presses forward, placing a quick peck to your sensitive core that makes your legs try to squeeze together instinctually, “Make me.” 

At those two words, you finally open your eyes, slowly lolling your head towards him, eyes narrowing at the challenge. 

“Get off the floor and onto the bed, and I will.” 

You don’t have to tell him twice. 

The entire process somehow manages to remind you just how ridiculous the situation was. Watching Eddie clamber clumsily out from beneath your desk, cheekily flashing you the set of panties he’d taken off of you that he shoves into his pocket. Eyes glued on him as he flops himself down onto your shared bed, still looking far too proud of himself. 

Your heart swells as you look at the absolute idiot, knowing he was yours. 

“Well?” he asks expectantly, raising his eyebrows as he shimmies his shoulders jokingly, “You gonna make me or not, sweetheart?” 

You’re quick to start to jump out of your chair, just eager to be close to him again, deciding the game could wait until tomorrow. Just as you do, however, Eddie puts up a hand, biting back an even wider smile.

“I’m only reminding you because I won’t hear the end of it otherwise,” he drawls, slowly pointing a finger back towards the desk, “Don’t forget to press F5.”

You roll your eyes, but you do as he says. 

It works. It’ll save you time next time you reload the game – allowing you to skip the entire encounter, considering the way you’ve discovered there are far more fun ways to have your mind blown. 

Now, however, it was Eddie’s turn.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

(please let me know if the tagging worked!!)

[munsonbrackets]

Astarion x undying male reader

Just imagine Astarion having to lure back someone who can’t die for Cazador. 

Like Cazador didn’t tell him anyone specific, just someone pretty, which you are. Undeniably.

So he lures you over from across the bar, gets to talking, does the chatting he usually does. And you are so nice to him, but he refuses to be locked in another coffin for 200 years for not doing what Cazador said, so he lures you to Cazador.

But just a small problem with you being lured to Cazador to be turned into a spawn. You are a random dude who just cannot die. Not in the “nothing can kill me, i'm unkillable and immortal!” kind of way. No. That would be too simple. You cannot die in the “bone snapping, skull shattering, viscera brought to life once more.” kind of way.

So when Cazador attempts to turn you, you just kinda wake up again. With all of your blood still in you and a REALLY pissed off true vampire looking at you. And Cazador tries, tries again, tries 100 more times and he just cannot turn you. 

And you really can’t be bothered to stay for another 100 trials, so you just leave, first chance you get. All of the spawn think you’re one of them, Cazador being too embarrassed to tell the truth. That he was too weak to turn you.

You leave Baldur’s gate, no need to have a pissed off old vampire coming after you. Especially not when all of his plates are silver, the dude has got money.

And a while later, when you get kidnapped and forced onto the nautiloid. You were scared for the first time in a long time. You had never had an illithid parasite put into your skull. The nautiloid then came crashing down and you were half expecting to just vomit it up. The other half of you wondering whether or not your affliction with death would prevent you from becoming a mind flayer. You always heard that mindflayers very much lacked in the soul category, maybe that’s why you could never stay dead?

But you decide to go at it, you’ve been gone from Baldur’s gate for a few 100 years, maybe someone there could help. On the way you find many companions, Gale of waterdeep, Lae’zel the githyanki, Shadowheart and the rest of your astounding group.

But most importantly, Astarion. Astarion the vampire spawn. Which the group found out about fast enough, specifically when he tried to bite you. You just could not tell whether or not he knew you. Recognized you.

That is until you and him sit alone, watching the stars. 

“You remind me an awful lot about someone I used to know.” Astarion practically whispered it out, seemingly unable to make up his mind whether or not he was gonna let the words out.

“Do I now? What was he like?” You mutter back, your eyes still fixated on the stars. But you are still so aware of him next to you.

“He was… I can’t completely remember. I met him once, maybe twice.” Astarion pauses and a shuddered breath is forced out of his lungs, he’s tense. Possibly remorseful. “But he was beautiful. He would look at everyone like they were infinite. He did that to people. Made them feel invulnerable.”

You ignored Astarion’s indirect, very direct, compliment.

“What happened to him?”

The words left your lips faster than you could really think about them. You tried easing the tension by laying flat on your back, using your palms as pillows for your head. 

Astarion’s breath almost hitched at your words, but he took a second, seemingly in thought. He was probably considering whether or not he should tell you the truth. You realized you had put him into a curious position, and with the battles ahead, you were inevitably going to see Cazador once more. Cazador would definitely recognize you.

“You handed him over to Cazador, didn’t you?”

You forced the words out this time. Every single part of your very being, screaming at you to be quiet.

Astarion swallowed harshly.

“Yes. I did. I wish I could say I would do anything to bring him back from whatever wretched fate Cazador forced him into. But I can’t. It’s never that simple is it?”

An involuntary chuckle left your throat and you saw Astarion whip his head towards you, his anxiety rising a thousand fold. You quickly sat up, looked at him reassuringly, and then you gently folded his hand between yours.

“I’m certain he forgave you long ago. Especially knowing what you went through, I highly doubt he blames you.”

And in Astarion’s eyes you recognized the same man from all those years ago, the insecure vampire spawn with the twinkle of the entire universe locked in his eyes.

You hoped that you made him feel as invulnerable as the first time you met him.

[bigsoupspoon]

A Safe Respite

Summary: You take Astarion on a private evening date to a bath house inside of Baldurs Gate.

Pairing: Astarion x Afab Reader

Warnings: Fluff, smut, minor angst, bathing,

Word Count: 2300 approx.

Rating: 18+ - If you are under 18 please do not read.

The day had been difficult and dangerous, multiple citizens abruptly transforming into mindflayers and the Absolute cultists posing a threat everywhere they go, not to mention attempts to infiltrate Baldur’s Gate for leads to destroy the Elder Brain. By the time sunset came, you and your companions were all accounted for back at camp, and decided to start the night with a celebration of the victories earned thus far.

“I think we all deserve a little fun after today’s tiresome events, there’s a tavern close by I used to visit from time to time. They make the best honeyed mead in the Gate.” Wyll promptly suggests.

“Aye, I second that suggestion.” Agreed Halsin, already nearly finishing a bottle of wine.

“Are you coming?” Shadowheart nudges, hoping you would join.

“Although that does sound fun, I actually have something else for the two of us planned for the evening,” You reply, now looking at Astarion, “Unless you’d prefer the tavern of course?”

“A private rendezvous planned by my lover? How could I ever say no.” Astarion gushed coyly.

The group collectively threw you several looks that implied “Have fun,” and with that, you took Astarion’s hand and walked up towards the bustling streets of the city.

* * * * * * * * * *

You make your way to the local bath house, one you had seen earlier in the week and decided to pay a visit to soon. The same clerk is working who recognises you from your interaction just hours before.

“Everything you had requested has been organised, I hope the room is to your liking.” They smile, and lead you around the corner to a private room.

The scent of the lavender oil bath embraces your noses as you walk into the room. It is dimly lit, containing multiple candles surrounding a circular wooden tub in the centre, filled with freshly drawn warm water. Leafy vines have grown to obscure the windows and further around the roof and sides of the room, some of the smaller fronds hanging down with flowering buds beginning to grow. Your specific request of wine and fruits was dutifully fulfilled, as they sit on a small table placed next to the tub for easy reaching.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion says.

“I wanted some space just for us, someplace where we could take it easy for the night.” You reply.

“Well, how thoughtful of you, my dear.”

You take Astarion’s hand, and lead him into the room, and begin the remove your clothes and then his. He seems pleasantly surprised by your offer to remove his clothes for him, but lets you do so anyway. He helps you into the tub first, supporting you as you take your first step into the water, and he follows a second after. You’re sat next to him, getting used to the warmth of the water for a few moments. You then begin to pour two goblets of wine when you feel his eyes watching you.

“Come here, my sweet.” Astarion invites, as his hands find your hips and pull you towards the front of him, so you are placed on his lap, your inner thighs caressing the outsides of his.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re trying to seduce me with all of this.” he teases.

“There’s actually something I’d like to do first, if that’s alright.” You poke back.

“Is it alright if I touch you?” You ask, eyes searching his for consent.

“Darling,” he coos, “I thought you’d never ask.”

You lean into Astarion closely, chests warmly pressed together, feeling his nose gently scrape the side of your neck, your arm outstretched to grab the cloth on the small table behind him, and dip it in the warm water of the tub. Once it is soaked through, you gently wipe it across his collarbones, swiping away any grime and blood brought on by the earlier events of the day. You tenderly move down his body, cleansing his chest and stomach, then proceeding to his arms and hands.

Astarion stares at you with a small, soft smile across his lips, watching you clean him, take care of him. His eyes softly caress your face, carefully taking in the moment of peace and safety, something that he wasn’t familiar with, but had longingly ached for.

Resting the cloth on the side of the tub, you check in with him again.

“How does this feel, my love?” you ask Astarion.

He initially smiles at you, but then his face becomes serious, it takes but a second for him to search his memories for a time where he was able to feel this kind of security.

“I can’t remember a time where I felt this kind of….intimacy. Its nice.” He answers honestly.

“Close your eyes, alright?” You ask.

You pick up the cloth again, gently swiping across his face, removing the last of the dirt and blood. Astarion’s eyes are softly closed, he basks in the moment as he can feel his skin being cleaned. He tenses in the beginning, his forehead creasing ever so slightly, he’s not used to this kind of gentle touch, but after a minute or so his breathing slows and deepens, relaxing into your touch as the safety of you embraces him fully.

Once his face has been cleansed, you place a small and delicate kiss on his cheek. Astarion turns his face towards you until his lips graze yours, staying in this moment for just a minute more. His hand caresses the back of your neck, prompting you to stay there. He kisses you slowly and deeply, and for those few seconds, everything else in the world fades away.

Your head spins lightly when you eventually pull away, cheeks warm and rosy, it seems Astarion feels the same way too. He rests his forehead against yours and places his hands on the small of your back.

It’s a peaceful and pure moment between the two of you, simply enjoying the quiet company of each other, a brief respite. The only sounds are your soft breaths and faint music from a tavern playing off in the distance.

“Allow me,” he gently takes the cloth and douses it in the tub, and returns your actions of cleaning him down. Astarion is careful to brush over the healing marks on your neck from his fangs the night before. He leans in and gingerly kisses the area of your neck where he last tasted you.

Your breath hitches as his teeth gently graze the sensitive area on your neck. Taking advantage of your small moment of bliss, Astarion begins to swipe the cloth across your chest and breasts, cradling them in his hands as he continues to clean you.

“This was supposed to be a night for me to take care of you, not the other way around,” you breathily confess.

“Seems like you enjoy being taken care of this way too, don’t you think, darling?” he smugly asks.

You push away his hands and place them back on your waist as you begin to trail small kisses from his shoulder up to his neck, gently massaging his chest while you do so.

Astarion lets out a small moan into your ear, quiet enough you barely hear it. Your planned priority was his sole pleasure and security, allowing him to feel safety and love as he deserves.

You pause for a moment and begin to work your way to the other side, giving equal attention to the other side of his neck. He firmly places his hands around your lower back, giving into his growing enjoyment.

“Love, although I’m loving this attention from you, we can take care of each other, you know. This doesn’t have to be about just me.” He takes your chin softly so you’re looking directly at him, and pulls you into another deep kiss. You can feel his smirk as you give into him, allowing him to kiss you more passionately than before, as his arms caress around your back, one hand nestled in your hair. He gently tugs at your scalp, pulling you out of the kiss for just a moment.

“I love you.” He whispers delicately, his pupils blown and cheeks lightly flushed.

“And I love you.” You return. He pulls you into a passionate kiss again, growing hungrier the more time passes by. You can begin to feel him grow between your thighs, so you take one hand and caress him ever so gently, encouraging him further.

Astarion lets out another small moan, more audible this time, and places his hands on your breasts again, gently swiping each nipple with this thumbs, making you moan in return. His expert fingers graze you ever so softly, then applies a gentle pressure, causing you grow aroused along with him.

His hands slither down your stomach and around your waist, firmly squeezing your behind before one hand comes back around the front to touch you more intimately. He drags his thumb slowly up your slit, even underwater he can feel your wetness starting to grow. He swipes up again, causing you to moan into the kiss, he reciprocates the moan as you rub your thumb across the top of his hardening member. You stroke him more firmly now, as he does unto you, eliciting filthy sounds from one another.

“I want more,” You breathily request.

“Only if you say ‘please’, my love.” He cheekily demands.

“Please,” You urge him. Satisfied with your instant compliance, Astarion gently pushes one finger inside of you, and begins to rhythmically pump his hand, while the other holds your waist still. You both spend several minutes like this, exploring each other’s body, teasing one another while yours and his lips remain deliciously connected.

Astarion reaches under your thighs, lifting you slightly out of water and gently onto your knees. Your cunt grazes his tip lightly, you balance yourself with your arms placed across his shoulders, crossing them over behind his neck.

“Are you sure want this, love?” Astarion asks, his lips barely leaving yours.

“Of course, baby.” You reply, your mouth leaves his for just a second.

As you slowly sink down onto him, both expelling a series of lustful sounds, you take a moment to adjust to his size. Astarion’s arms curl around your body, holding you as close to him as possible, his kisses grow more intense as he starts to tenderly thrust up into you. Wanting to reciprocate the movement, you lightly bounce on him, causing the tub water to steadily ripple.

You quickly become lost in one another, feeling nothing else but pure pleasure, love filling you both to the brim. He fits you so exquisitely, and he knows it, delicately and lovingly ruining you, over and over again.

The water begins to splash slightly over the edge of the tub the more you both continue, although neither of you notice, as the two of you are entangled with one another, as one connected entity.

The warm tingle in your stomach climbs higher, and your head swings back in reaction. Astarion takes advantage of the exposed flesh of your neck and kisses it, periodically sucking the skin leaving you sure there will be love marks come morning.

“Feed on me, please, I want you to bite me.” You beg, one hand entangled in his hair while the other grips his bicep.

“Are you sure, darling? It’ll hurt for just a second.” Astarion’s lips barely leave your neck as he speaks.

“Mhmm,” Pulling your hair to the side to expose more of your neck to him, granting him full access. Astarion needs no further encouragement, as he sinks his teeth into you, penetrating you for the second time.

It stings deliciously, the opposing mixture of the cold numbness shooting through your body, combining itself with the warmth of the fire between your thighs, you are overwhelmed by the simultaneous different sensations, causing your head to feel dizzy and your body to constrict.

Astarion removes his fangs and presses his forehead into your neck, no longer able to focus on drinking your blood and instead chasing his climax. His stifled moans exhilarate you, and you bounce a little harder, and a little faster, gripping his shoulders as you do so, feeling yourself about to come undone onto him.

His thrusts become sharp and jagged as he reaches his end, his hands gripping your waist so tight they’re bound to leave small round bruises where his fingertips applied so much pressure. The desperate noises Astarion makes are so sweet to yours ears, and are alone enough to bring you to the edge. You come undone around him, squeezing him tight as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. The sensation of you reaching climax around him sends shockwaves through his body a second time, rendering him utterly speechless, his brain only knowing the feeling of pleasure for that brief moment.

It takes a minute for you both to recover, the both of you have your arms coiled around the other. Astarion leans his head back as you rest yours on his shoulder, both you unevenly puffing, trying to catch your breath. He softly grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling you into a small kiss. After a moment, you pull away slightly, caressing his face and staring into his eyes. Astarion smiles back at you, he looks both relaxed and beautifully disheveled.

“My sweet, did you reserve this room just for the hour?” Astarion questions.

“No, I paid for the night.” You answer, breathing still uneven.

“Good,” He says softly, “Because I’m not quite finished with you yet, my love.”

[shit-ultrakill-imagines]

imagine being a cishet man dating a mindflayer and then she leaves you for a woman

Mindflayer x m!Reader Headcanons

She leaves you for a woman

[fizzing-imagines]

Teenage Pregnancy Series | Billy Hargrove x Reader

Notes: Billy does not get taken by the mindflayer in this one, aka he gets a happy ending. Please read the note about this series

Warnings: Mention of divorce, teenage pregnancy, premature birth

Word Count: 3.8k

Your dad didn't mess around when it came to you.

Once you told Billy that you were pregnant with his child, he was gone. Out of fear for his reaction, you didn't tell him for a whole month, and once you did he left. No phonecall, no visit, nothing. He wasn't even at school.

After a week, your father was fed up and drove over. You were his little girl, his everything, and he couldn't stand to see you cry every day. Neil greeted him at the door, God knows he couldn't stand him, with a gruff "Yes?"

"Good afternoon Mr. Hargrove. I was looking for William." Your dad never called your boyfriend by his nickname. Neither of you knew why, he just didn't. Maybe it was part of his army veteran exterior. "What's he gotten himself into now?" Your father knew about Neil, and how he treated Billy. If anyone was going to beat him up for how he's treating you, it would be him. "I'm planning a birthday surprise for (Y/N) and I wanted to include him."

Neil let him in the house, where he strutted into Billy's room. Without a knock, he swung the door open and then closed it behind him again, to not let Neil know what was going on. Billy was laying on his bed, smoking and starring at one of the posters on his wall when your dad grabbed him by the collar and held him against the wall.

"Son.", he started. "And I call you son because I have never treated you like less than a son. I don't know who you think you are, abandoning my daughter but you're coming with me right this second to apologise."

It all happened so fast that Billy was starring at him like a deer in headlights. Your dad wouldn't hurt him, he knew that much, but he also didn't expect this kind of confrontation. "My child is two months pregnant with your child. No matter how unfortunate the circumstances are, it's also your responsibility." Billy knew your father was right. He didn't want to disappear like his mother did, but he was scared to turn out like his father. But he would never admit that to your father.

"Right.", he simply said.

"So we're driving over now. And flowers are just a nice extra to a lengthy apology, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir."

20 minutes later, you heard your father pull into the driveway. You just finished crying for the countless number of times this week when the door unlocked. "Hey dad.", you said as you turned around the corner, just to see not only your father but also Billy with a big bouquet of flowers in his hands. "Got someone for you.", your father said while walking over. He placed a kiss on your forehead and whispered "Dig your heels in." to you before walking into the backyard.

"(Y/N).", Billy said quietly. You silently stepped up to him, to which he gave you the flowers. "Thank you.", you whispered. Of course he'd get your favourites, although you were never sure if he even remember which ones you liked best. "I'm...really sorry..." Immediately, you started crying again. This felt surreal to you. "Why?" was all you could sob under your tears. Something rare happened, something you'd deem extraordinary: Billy started crying. He never cries. "I'm scared.", he admitted. You quickly put the flowers down and pulled him into a hug. "I don't wanna end up like my asshole father." Emotions poured out of him. Honestly, it overwhelmed you a bit. Between him disappearing and not knowing if there would be a father for your child, him letting his emotions out was a lot. "I didn't mean to, (Y/N), I'm sorry." You held him through his tears, whispering that it was all going to be fine, that he won't have to do it alone. Billy was scared. But he'd be more scared of loosing you.

"We'll manage, okay?", you said after a while. By now, you were laying on the couch, Billy between your legs with his head on your chest. "We'll manage, no matter what. No Neil, no shitty family. We'll have our own." He was tired from crying and only let out a small hum in response. His hand found yours and intertwined with it. "I'll never leave you again, I promise.", he mumbled after a while before kissing the back of your hand. Despite the pain he caused this week, you were happy to have him back. To hold him again, and to be so vulnerable with him. "Do you wanna see it?", you finally asked. Your boyfriend looked up at you. "See what?"

"The baby."

Billy raised his head with a look that showed that he was thinking of what to reply. Finally, he said. "Yes." Both of you got up to walk into the kitchen, where your father has put the sonograms on the fridge like a proud grandpa. You took them down and handed it to him. "Baby was 5 weeks in this one.", you explained as you pointed at the first one. Honestly, there was nothing more but a small white dot. It didn't look like anything, but both of you knew that. "And this one is from two days ago, so we're at 9 weeks." It was much more visible in the second one. You could point out their tiny arms and legs, but especially the head. "Really photogenic, always lays perfectly to point everything out." The joke went over Billy's head since he could stop starring at the picture. That was his baby, in his girlfriends stomach, that he made with her. Billy couldn't help but immediately fall in love with the small life he created. He pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head. "That's out baby."

"Yeah, that's ours."

"I think we'd all agree that it's best if Billy moves in with us.", your dad said during dinner one night. Billy was over every day now, not wanting to leave your side if he didn't have to. But those words caught him off guard. He looked at your dad, then you, then back to your dad. "Are you serious?" He started grinning, a rare sight to your dad. "You'll be 18 soon, no? Neil can't stop you then." Your boyfriend was in deep thought for a good while, before your dad added "You'll wanna live with your child. As long as one of you gets a job, you can live here rent-free." It was moments like these that showed your father's no-bullshit policy. He was a very honest and direct man, and it showed right now. "You're right. That would be great, honestly." Billy smiled at your father. "Thank you, sir." Your father gave him a nod of recognition before continuing to eat.

"Two more months, then.", you said to Billy that night as you laid in bed. His fingers were tracing along your stomach, feeling the slight curve the baby in your stomach was making. "You have no idea how much I want to get out of that shithole.", Billy said, still touching your belly. "I'm not just imagining the bump, am I?" You laughed a bit. "No, it's there. Although, tiny. He or she doesn't seem to like the attention of a baby bump." Billy looked down at you with a small smile before leaning into a kiss. He made sure to pour all the love and care he had for you and your baby into it, and it worked; you felt like you were floating. "I love you.", you whispered against his lips once you separated. His arms snaked around your waist and pulled you on top of him. "I love you, too."

Both of you remained quiet for a while, enjoying each others warmth. You started feeling sleepy and closed your eyes, until Billy asked you a question. "Do you wanna know if it's a boy or a girl?" That wasn't something you thought about yet, so you started thinking. "I don't know. What about you." He bit the inside of his cheek while thinking. "I don't wanna know. I'd be scared a boy would turn out like me, and I don't want to ruin your pregnancy." A soft smile spread on your face and you leaned fowars to give him a quick kiss on his cheek. "Alright. It'll be a surprise. But we gotta pick out names for both."

"Julia for a girl.", Billy said in a heartbeat. Julia was his mother, who he told you so much about.

"Julia for a girl.", you agreed.

"Billy.", you mumbled as you woke up. It was three in the morning and you craved nothing more than some icecream and coke right now. "Billy, baby.", you continued until he finally woke up. "What?", he groaned while rubbing his eyes. "I want icecream.", you said while playing with his hair. He turned his head to look at the clock on your nightstand. "It's three in the morning.", Billy complained before turning back around, trying to fall asleep again. "Please.", you whined as you shook his shoulders lightly. "I'm scared of the dark, Billy." Your boyfriend groaned again before sitting up. "Okay, let's get you your icecream."

He watched you eat your chocolate chip mint icecream and gulping down three cans of coke while leaning against the kitchen counter. "You happy?", he whispered to not wake up your father. You nodded your head with a wide grin, and that made it all worth it for him. The baby bump was growing bigger each day and now, at it was undeniable even while you wore his shirts. Billy saw the life you two made growing in you each day, and it made him finally feel like he had a role in life.

"But you're brushing your teeth again after this.", he whispered after a while. You simply nodded while shoving another spoonful of icecream in your mouth. As you finished the third can of coke, he already got you another one from the fridge. "You're the best boyfriend ever.", you whispering after he set it down next to you. Those words made him feel so warm inside, so much so that he leaned foward to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Even with icecream smeared around your mouth, you're still the sexiest woman on this earth.", he rasped in your ear. It send a shiver down your spine. He whiped the sticky residue from your mouth while you put the icecream down. "I think I'm craving something else now.", you whispered.

Never have you seen Billy put away food and dishes as fast as he did right now.

Billy had to be honest to himself, he didn't mind that your second trimester made you horny and energetic. Especially now that he finally moved in the moment he turned 18 and had you to himself all day, he was enjoying your company. And even more when it was the weekend and your father was at work.

"Oh fuck, Billy! Shit!", you moaned loudly for the third time this day. Billy was buried inside you all the way, filling you up like he'd be able to impregnate you again and doing his best so you could find your release. Your legs wrapped around his waist to keep him in place while you came down from your high. "Fuck, Billy...", you groaned. He slowly pulled out of you and laid down on the spot next to your body, where he pulled you up to him. "You feel incredible.", he mumbled into your hair. You were so glad that he matched your newfound libido. Billy pulled the blanket over both of you so you wouldn't get too cold.

"You okay, baby?", he asked while running his fingers over your spine. With a small nod, you hid your face in his neck and savoured the way he smelled. It became your favourite scent over the last few weeks. "I'm so happy it's the weekend, I wouldn't survive a schoolday with you around." Billy chuckled a bit before kissing the top of your head. "The showers are free most of the time.", he reminded you.

"I know, that might be how we ended up here."

"You really want to walk the stage waddling like a cow?", one of the basketball players asked you while you were showing Chrissy the graduation dress you wanted in a magazine. Not only yours and Chrissy's, but also Billy's head shot up. If there's one thing he would tolerate the least, it's anyone disrespecting you. "What the fuck did you just say?", he asked in an aggressive tone. His fellow teammate started stuttering his words, knowing he royally fucked up, but it was too late. Billy already got up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Say that again." Peoppe from other tables were looking already, just waiting for Billy to get violent. "Fucking say that again.", he repeated. You felt anxiety rise in you; you didn't want him to hurt someone else because of you. "Billy, stop.", you said while standing up yourself. He glanced over at you, visibly pregnant with his baby. And then he remember what he told you: He didn't want to be like his dad. So, he let go of his teammates collar and walked back over to you. "Come on, I need a breather." Your boyfriend took your hand and walked outside with you.

"I'm proud of you, Billy.", you said as soon as both of you were alone on a bench. "I know it's hard for you to controll yourself." His arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. "I made a promise, to you and our kid." He can't admit this in public, but your words made him so happy. Honestly, he can't remember the last time someone told them their proud of him. But he did whisper a "Thank you." to you.

Billy pulled you on the couch to cuddle as soon as both of you came home. At 27 weeks, finding the right position became hard, but he somehow made it work. "You're a softie, Billy.", you giggled while putting your head on his chest. His heartbeat was calm, but it was your favourite sound. "Only for you.", he replied whole stroking through your hair. Your hair kept falling out for the past few weeks, but he didn't care about that. It was part of carrying his baby, and he was grateful for all the work you put in. "One more trimester.", he then said after a while. His hands found your belly and caressed it carefully. The baby's response was a kick, and Billy was ecstatic. "They kicked.", he commented with a smile. And they kept kicking for a good while before calming down. "They usually kick when you're being a soft baby.", you grinned at him, to which he scoffed lightly. As a response, you stretched your neck to kiss him on the cheek. "We like it, Billy. A lot. And I feel very honoured that only we get to see you like this." Billy didn't like admitting to it out loud, but there was no denying that you were his only soft spot. "It's a secret.", he mumbled.

"Of course, baby."

"We can't really put everything where it belongs yet.", you said as you unwrapped the fresh paintbrush. "But we can paint the walls, and at least build the furniture."

One out of two guest rooms was the designated nursery for the little one. Since you two decided to not find out the gender before the baby is born, there was no princess or dinosaur theme to do. But Billy wanted to include some beach elements for decorations, and paint the walls a sandy yellow. "You're not building anything, I'm doing that." He barely let you carry your books to school. But now that you both finished your last finals, there was a lot of time to put up the nursery. The guest bed had to stay until after your graduation since your mother and sisters would come to Hawkins for your graduation. Honestly, you didn't want them there - especially your mother always had a reason to complain. Now that you were 18 and pregnant, she had even more to bitch about. Plus, your sisters are just like her. That's why they stayed with her after the divorce and you moved with your dad.

"You're gonna have fun with my family, they're a bunch of cunts.", you said while giving the paint a stirr. "Not something I'm not used to.", he commented while covering the furniture he pushed into the middle of the room with a plastic cover. "You haven't had my sisters hit on you yet.", You watched him cover the bed and nightstand while speaking. "They can try all they want, you're the only one I want." Billy helped you stand up from the ground, then kissed your forehead. "I know. But they're just...something."

He put his hands on your bump, feeling the small kicks from that the baby was doing. "They didn't give me a roof over my head, or a child. They can get fucked."

"You look beautiful.", Billy said as he pulled you closer to him. The bump was big and round, making it impossible for Billy to pull you to him completely. Kicks hit his own stomach as your baby was kicking up a storm in you. "See, he or she agrees." Both of you laughed, you a bit more than him. "Thank you, Billy."

Both of you went downstairs to meet the others; your father, mother and two younger sisters. While your father gave you a rare smile, the other three looked less than pleased. As much as you didn't like them, it still hurt that they couldn't at least retend to be happy for one day. But that didn't matter that much while watching your dad fuzz over having to take pictures of you and Billy. Once he was done, you went to grab your gowns and Billy walked into the kitchen to fill your watter bottles. The constant dryness in your mouth was the most uncomfortable side effect, especially when you'd have to sit through a whole graduation ceremony. To Billy's misfortune, the older one of your siblings followed him into the kitchen.

"You're really doing a lot for her.", your sister said as she leaned against the kitchen counter next to Billy. He let out a gruff hum, not looking up once from the bottles he was filling. "Don't you think you deserve a little break with some fun?" She leaned forward, showing of as much cleavage as her dress let her show while dragging her pointer finger across his biceps.

"Touch me again and I'll break your fingers.", Billy threatened in a calm tone, still not looking up before leaving the kitchen with your water. But he didn't let it affect your incredibly good mood, plus he didn't plan on telling you in the near future. "You ready?", you asked with a wide smile. That smile made it all worth it.

"More than ready.", he replied before kissing you in front of your sisters.

Both of you finished up the nursery the second your mother and siblings left. It was pretty neutral, but the nursery mobile was ocean themed and some artwork on the walls depicted the ocean. Plus, a bunch of books Billy bought for the kid were about aquatic life and the ocean. You put up all the sonograms that were taken over the last few months, framed and everything. The nursery looked so beautiful.

And your baby thought the same.

Suddenly, you felt your pants getting wet. You looked down in shock and it took a while for your brain to puzzle together what was happening. "Billy, my water broke...", you said with a quiet voice. He looked over with a confused look. "What?"

"My water broke."

This wasn't supposed to happen, you weren't full-term yet. 34 weeks was too early. "Can you take me to the hospital? Please?", you sobbed. You felt like a small child, unable to controll your emotions and needing guidance from anyone else but you. But your boyfriend didn't waste any time to get you and your hospital bag in the car before driving you to the hospital, although way above the speed limit. It didn't matter to you.

Nothing did, except your baby being okay.

The birth was awful. You were in excruciating pain, and ended up having to get a C-Section because your baby was in breach. They were brought into the NICU while you were recovering in your room. While you were stable, Billy was scared. Scared of loosing you, or your child, or even both of you. But at least one of those fears washed away when you woke up. "(Y/N).", he husked in relief once your eyes fluttered open. His hand found yours and held it carefully while stroking the back of it.

"Hey.", you whispered as you looked at him through your blurry vision. "Baby's okay. She's in the NICU." The pronoun he used struck you. "She?", you asked. Honestly, you were sad that you weren't even awake to find out the gender. "Our little Julia.", he said with a smile. It was such a distinct, different smile. You've seen him happy, but never this happy. "Can I see her?", you asked. He kissed the top of your head before saying: "Once you're better, we can go see her all day."

"I can't wait."

"Stay in bed, I got it.", Billy mumbled while getting up to check on the baby. You were still recovering from giving birth, but both you and Julia were home from the hospital now. He was very attentive with both you and your daughter, and he didn't want you to overwork yourself. He had you in bed or on the couch most days, and carefully watched your every move when you were walking around. You could hear Billy calming your daughters crying, followed by footsteps walking to your shared bedroom. "Look who's here, Julia.", Billy cooed at his daughter while walking over to your bed. Julia was placed securely in your arms, where she looked at you quietly. She was tiny due to being born as a late preemie, but she pushed through and was now home with you. There was not a single doubt in your mind that you'll both love her forever.

"She's such a quiet baby, I'm worried.", you admitted to Billy. "I mean, she was born early. What if she's hard of hearing or something?" Your boyfriend sat down at the edge of the bed next to you. "Then we'll go through it as a family. No matter what." His fingers ran over her head, where she had a good amount of blonde curls already.

"Both of you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I'll be here for everything."

[angelatmidnight1]

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

A/N: I've had a stressful couple of weeks and wanted to write a quick story with ler!Astarion and lee!reader. This was inspired by one of the helping lines he has where he says "you look good helpless". @tickly-deer-boy here is a quick Astarion fic!

Summary- Tav is stuck, and Astarion comes to get them out of trouble. He had no idea that they were ticklish…and gods, is it entertaining. 

Paring- Astarion x Tav (platonic).

Word Count- 1.8k.

Warnings- None. But please note this is a tickle fic!

Tav grunted in frustration as they tried to wriggle free from the narrow space between the crates. Their movements only caused them to get more wedged in the spot. They were reaching forward, straining to reach Lae’zel’s outstretched hand, only to just be out of her reach. 

“K’chaki. I told you to go around.” Lae’zel grumbled in exasperation. She withdrew her hand. “We waste precious time while you struggle. At any moment, we could become ghaik.” 

“I know that,” Tav groaned and tried to launch themselves forward. They barely moved an inch, and now their waist was fully stuck between the crates. “It’s almost like you’ve been saying the same thing since we crashed! If you’d shut up and give me your hand, I’d be out of here already.”

“You cannot reach my hand,” Lae’zel pointed out as if it was as obvious as day. “And I have no time to wait and make up for your shortcomings. Had I known you would slow me down, I would have left you to your fate on the nautolid.” 

“And you would have no astral prism. You’d turn into a mindflayer before me,” Tav grunted and decided to change tactics, twisting their hips to try and dislodge themselves. It didn’t work. Lae’zel checked her pack, believing she’d been the one carrying it, only for Tav to give a mocking sneer. “Honestly, it’d be an improvement. You wouldn’t be talking so much if you had a mouth full of tentacles.”

Lae’zel scowled. She took a step forward, hand on the hilt of her sword. “You think it’s wise to provoke me in your position?”

Before you could challenge her, Astarion’s silky voice sounded from somewhere behind you. “Now now, darlings. Let’s not turn our blades on each other. We’ve so many enemies we could stab instead..”

Tav heard the sound of his shoes crunching over gravel as he approached them. The sound stopped when he froze, taking in the scene of the trapped leader in front of him. “Oh. Oh dear. Someone’s gotten themselves in a spot of trouble, hm?”

Tav didn’t have to see his face to know he was smirking. They bristled, and they would’ve turned to leer at them if they hadn’t been pinned at the waist. “Hilarious, Astarion. Truly. How about doing something useful and helping me?”

The vampire clicked his tongue. “My, so touchy. I’m almost tempted to leave you there. Who knows what a less friendly adventurer would do if they found you?”

“You wouldn’t,” Tav retorted. “You’d miss me too much. Who else would wake up day after day to tell you how handsome you are?” 

“Cheeky,” Astarion smirked. “Still, I’m not convinced to help you. If only there was a word you could say that would make me reconsider. Something like, oh, I don’t know…please?”

“To hells with that,” Tav palmed the sides of the crates and pushed at them. Besides the occasional, minuscule move, they remained right where they were. Their face contorted with exertion, and they heard Astarion snickering behind them. 

“That’s four words, and I'm not looking for any of them.” Astarion stepped closer and leaned against the crates. “But by all means, keep squirming. You look good helpless…”

The heat rose to their cheeks, or maybe that was from all of their struggling? Tav wasn’t sure. They gave up on pushing the crates and twisting their body to and fro. Then, exhaling through their nose, they grumbled, “Fine. Please help me, Astarion. There, happy?”

“Your groveling skills need work,” he snorted. “But it would be cruel for me to expect a grand performance in your state. So of course, my dear, I’ll help you.” Astarion moved behind them, hands outstretching to rest on their sides. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and he rotated them to determine the best angle to pull them from. The light touches sent shivers up their spine, though he didn’t seem to notice. If anything, Tav would’ve chalked it up to the cold. Astarion moved his hands higher, now resting just below their rib cage. His fingers slid along their skin, looking for gods know what, and they jolted.

“What are you doing?” Tav cried incredulously. Lucky for them, he couldn’t see the grin tugging at the corner of their lips.  Lae’zel had already stormed off, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Helping you. Obviously.” Astarion rolled his eyes and readjusted his hold, returning to their sides. This time, he was squeezing them in an attempt to get a better grip. “And I’d have an easier time if you would hold still.” 

Tav choked on a giggle. They did the opposite of what he said and fidgeted some more. Suddenly, the impossible feat of getting themselves out on their own didn’t sound all that impossible. “Forget it, Astarion. I’ll d-do it myself..”

“Nonsense. Stop squirming, and I’ll pull you out.” 

“No, but-” 

Astarion’s fingers ghosted over their stomach, and they squeaked. He froze, and Tav felt their heart do somersaults in their chest. 

“What is the matter with you?” Astarion took his hands away from their belly, fingers resting just above their hips. The confusion was as clear as day in his voice. “You’re acting as if I’m hurting you.”

Tav remained quiet. They feared that they’d end up giggling if they spoke. 

“Tav? Am I hurting you?”

“...No.” Tav hesitated, shaking their head. They wracked their mind for a plausible explanation. “It’s just, uh, your hands. They’re cold.”

“Cold enough to feel through your clothing?” Astarion raised a brow, tone flat. “Odd. You haven’t told me that before..”

Tav didn’t even believe the tale they’d spun. “W-Well, they’re just that c—ah!” Tav squealed when he lightly pinched their hip. “Don’t do that!”

They went to smack at his hand, but hit one of the crates instead. Although they couldn’t see it, Astarion’s eyes brightened with mischief. 

“Oh, now I understand…” Astarion grinned a predatory grin, rolling his knuckles against their hip. Tav squirmed, biting down on their lip to trap the impending giggles. “You’re ticklish, aren’t you?”

“Noho!” The word alone sent butterflies in their stomach. They brought one of their hands up to their mouth, their other hand uselessly hitting the top of the crates. “Damn it Astarion, just pull me ouhuhut!”

“I’m trying, Tav, but you’re not making this easy for me.” Astarion shuffled closer to them, now using his thumbs to deliberately knead into their hips. Tav gasped and giggled into their hand, feet stomping into the dirt. “It’s impossible to get a good grip with you kicking around like this..”

“You’re nohoht trying!” Tav argued, bucking their hips as Astarion kept kneading into them. The ticklish sensations surged through them like electric shocks, and it was harder to suppress their frantic giggling. “Gah! S-Shihihit! When I get out of hehehehre, you’re dehehehad!”

“I’m already dead,” Astarion snorted. “But do tell me, what is so funny? Surely I am not tickling you?”

Tav growled in between their giggles. They giggled harder when he changed tactics and squeezed their hips again, again, and again. Both hands flew to their mouth to muffle their squeals. 

“Darling,” Astarion purred, “I need an answer.” 

“Gohoho to hehehell!” The dam broke, and Tav giggled freely. They twisted and bucked as much as their trapped position allowed, clawing at the crates. “Stohohohp it!”

“Stop what?” Astarion feigned confusion, nails skittering along their waistline. “I’m only trying to help, just as you asked! You’re stuck in here good, I’m afraid.”

“Nohoho! I’ll f-freehehee myself!” Tav sputtered as he dragged his nails up their belly. They shouted and shook their head back and forth, laughing loudly. “Let gOHOHOhahaha!”

“I can’t do that, dear. That would make me a terrible friend,” Astarion tutted. He stopped scritching at their belly, teasing their sides with featherlight strokes. “And, while I’m on the topic, do you know what else sours a friendship?”

Tav’s laughter died down to short, breathless giggles. Their cheeks were well beyond flushed, and they fidgeted in anticipation. “I—hah—don’t know... what?”

“Lying,” Astarion grinned and gently pinched just beneath their rib cage. Tav squealed and bucked. “For instance, pretending not to be delightfully ticklish when you very clearly are.”

Tav’s eyes widened, panic flashing across their face. “I’m—I'm nohot—”

“Ah-ah, there it is again.” Astarion double downed on his efforts, kneading one of his thumbs into the side of their belly. Tav shrieked and kicked their legs uselessly, falling back into another laughing fit. “You are an insolent little pup, aren’t you? Lying is one thing, but lying to a friend? Lying to me?” 

As if they weren’t already stuck enough, Astarion wrapped his free arm around their waist, making it much harder to squirm or kick. He continued tickling their stomach, alternating between gently scratching along their skin with his nails and kneading with his thumb. He moved at a leisurely pace, as if he had all the time in the world. And, truth be told, he did. Tav’s laughter took on a more desperate note, and they threw their head back. 

“NAHAHA! Alright! Okay! I’m sohohohorry!” Tav shouted and pounded their fist against the damned crates. They doubled over, or at least made an effort to, and squealed with laughter. “I’m sohohohohrry!”

“So you are,” he hummed. “And yet, I’m not fully convinced. You’ve already lied to me once. Who’s to say you aren’t doing it again?” He dropped to his knees, lazily raking his nails down the backs of their thighs. Tav shrieked and kicked around even more. 

“I’m nOHOHOHohohot! I’m not!!” Tav grit their teeth and giggled madly. They tried to lift their legs out of his reach, but he chased after them with minimal effort. “PLehehehehease! I’m nohoht lying!”

Astarion laughed. “You learn fast. It’s still a no, though. I’m just gutted that you would lie to me.” He pretended to sound sad while he spidered his nails along the backs of their knees. Tav howled, curling in on themselves as much as possible. “After all of the time we spent together! After I offered to help you..” 

Tav cackled when one of Astarion’s hands snuck back up to prod at their belly. He swirled his pointer finger in random patterns, scritching just shy of their hip bones, around their navel, and ending at their lowermost ribs. He did the same thing in reverse, eventually settling back on the ground to squeeze and tickle their knees and thighs. His fearless leader was a puddle of squeals and giggles, and that’s one crime he was happy to be guilty of. 

“I CAHAHAHN’T!” Tav went back to pounding their fists against the crates, eyes shining with tears. “Astarion, plehehehehehease!”

After what felt like forever, Astarion stopped tickling them. He gripped their hips and, with one firm pull, dislodged them from their trap. They fell back into him, and he held them up, still by their hips. “There you are, you’re free!” he snickered. “You’re welcome.”

Tav exhaled, shutting their eyes. They were coming down from the ticklish sensations, chest rising and falling from each breath they took. They were still smiling a bit, so what they said next had very little bite. “Bastard.”

“Careful,” Astarion tapped his fingers against their hips, and Tav lurched forward. “We wouldn’t want this little secret to slip to any of our friends, hm?” 

[chervbs]

undying devotion — a. ancunin

pairings: astarion ancunin x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: you have a very limited time to free everyone, including duke ravenguard, from the iron throne. It seems easy enough until you realize you may not make it out before gortash destroys the entire prison, and you along with it. and with your new but thriving relationship with your vampiric companion, you have more to lose than just your life.

warnings: angst, mega angst, main character death, spoilers for act 3 (specifically the iron throne quest), mentions of c*zador, resurrection, hurt/comfort, happy ending, maybe ooc astarion because I’m still getting used to writing these characters, lmk if I missed any!

a/n: hello my angels! I hope you all enjoy this short little angsty piece I came up with for everyones favorite vampire. anonymous requested some angst for astarion and I immediately thought of this moment that happened in my first playthrough of the game where the only person I couldn't get out of the iron throne was my tav. it was a scary moment until I remembered what my man withers was there for. the characters in the game don't actually have a reaction to tav not making it out so I came up with this. any feed back is greatly appreciated! <3

ao3 link

Of all the battles fought between the crash of the Nautiloid ship and now, the Iron Throne is proving to be potentially the most perilous.

The plan had seemed simple when you all waited for the submersible to dock the underwater prison. Get in, free as many prisoners as possible, and get out. Of course the creatures guarding the prison would be an obstacle, but your party had defeated a plethora of foes before, how difficult could this mission be?

You all shared the sentiment, until the projection of Lord Enver Gortash had made an appearance.

“Aren’t you the intrepid little adventurer?” The man’s smug voice startled everyone aboard, shoulders growing tense and glares growing fierce. “Digging and diving where you don’t belong. And I thought we were friends.”

Astarion watched as you squared your shoulders, looking the projection right in the eyes. “Fuck you, Gortash.” The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, but it didn’t last.

Gortash made it clear that if you continued on your quest, he would destroy the Iron Throne, and you all with it.

You had glanced back, communicating with Astarion, Halsin, and Karlach silently. Each of you wonder if this is worth the stakes. Worth all of the lives that could be lost if you failed. Then you looked at your captain, Redhammer the Deviser, and nodded for him to dock the ship.

“That was a mistake.” Gortash scowled. “When the corpses start to wash up on the shore, remember–you could have prevented all of this.”

There wasn’t much time after you docked to accomplish what you came for, so the four of you climbed the ladder with swiftness. The moment you stepped down, your tadpole began to wriggle as a familiar voice spoke to you.

“Halt. You must act with haste. Duke Ravenguard is held within these walls. He must be extracted.” It was unmistakably Omeluum, the mindflayer you’d made friends with in the Underdark.

You knew there was no time for questions. “Tell me what to do.”

“Duke Ravenguard is held in the security wing. Be careful, there are many hazards. This structure is collapsing. Act with speed, act with efficiency. Good luck.”

Swords, arrows and spells were used to get you all through the prison with haste. The Sahugin guards were inconvenient, but not the priority. You only attacked when they were in your way, and dodged them the rest of the time.

Astarion and Halsin were able to make it to Duke Ravenguard, freeing and healing him while also taking down the obstacles sent by Mizora. The security was the closest to the center of the ship and the two men made quick work of the guards still lingering there.

You and Karlach had each taken separate wings, hoping to free as many people as you could. Karlach freed the few prisoners in her wing before she came across Omeluum. Once he was freed, he was able to teleport the two of them back onto the submersible.

It was only as you fought your way through yours that you regretted not bringing someone else with you. The wing you took held the most prisoners and it seemed as if every guard your companions didn’t defeat decided to flock to the area.

Time was running out and you knew it. Your tadpole wriggled again.

“You must return. The prison will be destroyed any moment now.” Omeluum warned. His voice was monotone as any other mind flayer, but you could sense veiled concern.

You took one last look at the crowd of Sahugin in front of you, your heart pounding in your chest. You lacked enough energy to be able to misty step back to the entrance, and there was no time to look for a useful scroll.

“Did everyone make it on board?” You asked, slashing the guards in front of you.

“Indeed.”

You sighed, tears welling. “Then tell them I’m sorry.”

Astarion was the last to climb aboard the submersible after Halsin. Water sprayed onto the platform as the structure began to give way. Halsin reached down to grab his forearms, pulling him the rest of the way. He’d just barely began to search for you within the ship when Karlach spoke up.

“Where’s Tav?” She asked shakily, as if she had already realized the answer.

Astarion’s eyes widened, as did everyone’s. “No.” He whispered, darting over to the window.

There was a split second before the explosion, the force of it rumbling within the water. “No!” He cried, knees buckling as he collapsed.

Karlach slapped a hand over her mouth, tears already falling from her eyes like a waterfall. Halsin bowed his head, sad eyes closing as Astarion lets out a heart wrenching scream.

It didn’t matter to him that his companions had never seen him so distraught, not even after he’d delivered the killing blow to Cazador. No, this pain was entirely different.

This pain was like having his heart ripped out, then his soul extracted then his body mutilated. Every part of him ached in a way he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. Though it shouldn’t surprise him. In the time since meeting, you’d taught him many things about himself. And even in death it seems he’s still learning from you.

Astarion was more silent than Karlach and Halsin had ever seen him. As they received their reward from the Wavemother and talked to Duke Ravenguard, Astarion dragged behind them, silent tears escaping consistently.

Only once they reached camp did Astarion seem to return to his mind, paying no attention to the surprised and concerned stares from everyone else. He was only focused on storming over to the camps undead resident.

Withers did not looked fazed nor surprised by the vampires rage, closing the tome he had been focused on the staring blankly.

“Bring them back.” He demanded, voice thick with emotion. “Bring Tav back.”

Astarion faintly heard a few gasps from the crowd that had gathered behind him, the rest of the party hearing of your death for the first time.

The creatures hollow, echoed voice responded. “There is a cost to do so.”

Astarion’s jaw clenched. “What is it?”

“A matter of coin.” Withers replied simply.

A pale hand reached back into his travel pack to pull out the pouch of coin Astarion had collected throughout your travels. He shoved it against the undead’s chest. “Here!” He snarled. “Take it! Take all the coin we have, I don’t care how much it takes.”

Withers calmly opened the pouch, peaking inside. “That won’t be necessary. This is more than enough.” He said, dropping the pouch to the ground. “I recommend keeping thy distance for a moment.”

Everybody took a step back besides Astarion, only until Karlach placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and pulled.

Withers lifted a bony hand, speaking his words like a prayer. “By doom and dusk, I strike thy name from the archives. Rise!”

There was a brief flash of light that had everyone shielding their eyes. In a matter of seconds, you appeared, stumbling like you’d been thrown back on earth. Which, to your credit, is what it felt like.

Your breaths were quick and heavy as they had been in your final moments, and you patted your body to ensure you really were alive.

There wasn’t much time for you to linger in your thoughts before you were essentially tackled, toned arms coming around you in a crushing embrace. As you heard the sound of weeping, you registered that it was your love who had lunged at you.

A choked sound escaped your lips before you could even realize you yourself had started to cry, arms wrapping around Astarion’s torso.

Through your foggy eyes, you could faintly see your other companions standing a few feet away, some wiping tears and others smiling somberly at you. But they were far from your mind at the moment.

You could only focus on the man in your arms, the both of you collapsing to the ground. “My love.” He whimpered out, surely leaving fingernail markings with how hard he was gripping you. “My little love, I thought you gone for good.”

A watery chuckle escaped, one of your hands coming to lace within the white curls of his hair. “I’m so sorry, Star. Never. I could never leave you.” You sobbed.

His embraced loosened, hands traveling to your face and pulling your forehead against his. His crimson gazed peered into yours, full of desperation. As if he would never be able to look into them again.

“I have never known pain,” He whispered to you hoarsely. “Like what I felt when that wretched place exploded.”

Your lips quivered with another onslaught of emotions. You placed your own palms against his cheeks, thumbs stroking the smooth, alabaster skin. “I never would have made it on time.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

He shook his head lightly, removing his forehead and replacing it with his lips instead. He pressed a kiss there, then to your cheek, and then a final one to your lips, lingering again as if it would be the last kiss you would ever share. You only separated once oxygen became a concern.

“The others are waiting.” You sniffed, though you made no move to leave his side.

“Let them.” Astarion said, a small, relieved grin growing on his face. And you did.

The rest of the world could wait until the end of time for you to part from your Star.”

[pacentia]

Title: Forever

Summary: After BG3 events, Astarion and reader feel ready for a child.

Pairing: established relationship fem!reader x Astarion

Tags: NSFW, rough sex, sweetness, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, bloodsucking, kissing, L-bombs

Word count: 1,704

Note: listen up folks. no idea if vampires thralls can make people pregnant. but in my world they can. Pls enjoy. i haven't finished the game, so this is my own fantasy after bg3 events:)). Drabble/fic/headcanon requests about our darling husband are welcome :))

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and eventually months into years, together with your darling Astarion. After the events of tadpoles, mindflayers and vampire masters, the time had come to settle down and live quietly, close to Baldur's gate city. Close enough for easy supply runs, yet far enough to enjoy the privacy of your very own house. Astarion was quick to realize he'd want no one else in his eternal life but you - and asked you - on one knee - to be his forever.

The wedding was held shortly after, with only a close circle of your friends present. Karlach shed a tear from happiness - knowing you two were destined to be together, while Halsin felt just… Bittersweet. Astarion wed a fine woman, although he was secretly convinced that an Druid like himself: alive, warm, and aging could take better care of your needs.

This was often also the subject of certain discussions that popped up in your marriage as you were reading in the garden, or drinking hot tea beside the hearthfire. Worries that washed over him about the coldness of his touch - or the eventual loss he would have to endure somewhere in the far future, when you would eventually lose the battle against time. You understood where his worries came from, but you were always there to comfort your darling husband. You possessed no interest in anyone's touch but his and you pledged to him that you'd always be present in his undead heart.

Of course, the latter made you interested in if his vampirism could be cured or, if you could transform into one. Yet, both choices were frustratingly impossible. Curing him would just mean ending him, heaven's forbid. Transforming yourself would mean serving another vampire lord, a fate that Astarion would never want you to experience.

Though tonight - nothing of that sort mattered and you found yourself intertwined in one another, the soft duvet covering your bare bodies. Your fingers played with his light-grey curls, while his arms were wrapped around your shoulders, ready for bed.

"Say, love," Astarion suddenly spoke up, "I heard you took care of a lost little girl in the city today."

Right. A young Tiefling girl had lost her mother inbetween the packed crowds of the city, and the girl came to you for help. How exactly did Astarion know that?

"Karlach told me of course." The vampire stated as a matter of fact. "She saw you and passed by this noon for tea." You nodded and explained the situation - how you held the little girl's hand right until you found her mother together. The woman thanked you over and over again.

A small silence fell between you two, until the man continued his stream of thoughts, "Karlach then asked me if we'd ever have children and I said that I didn't know what you would think of it and I -" Astarion's gaze avoided yours until he remembered he was probably rambling again, "Sorry love, I just wanted to know if you and I could have that sort of future together?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of Astarion as a father. He'd definitely spoil his little ones and love them unconditionally.

"A little one to raise in our house." The pale man smiled, lost in his thoughts. "We already have a spare room that we could decorate for them."

Of course those thoughts had crossed your mind. It would be a new chapter in both of your lives, and you felt ready to take it on together with him. Behind his cheeky and often sarcastic banter, there was a sweet and caring man - only revealed to the closest ones he trusted.

"You know they'll be incredibly mischievous and stubborn, right?" You smirked up at him, to which the vampire quickly retaliated, "Darling, you wound me. Besides, that's why you're there to teach them kindness." Astarion sing-songed, nuzzling into your hair.

No hesitation was present in your words, '"Of course, Astarion. I want this with you." You smiled sweetly, gently guiding his cold digits over your belly, making your vampire husband rub it with such fondness.

Something within him stirred, yet another level of deeper protectiveness that he would soon feel over you. Any other man that would come too close to you, would feel his deadly fangs buried into their jugular. Rip them to shreds. Kill them in cold blood. In fact, it made him involuntarily bare his fangs to you, accompanied by a low growl reverberating in his chest.

You grinned at his primal reaction, and whispered as you caressed his chin, "Dear Sir, you know you can't drink anything from me when you've put your little one in me, right?"

He was taken by a frenzy, and rolled his heavy body over yours - his nose buried into your neck, inhaling the delicious smell of your perfect blood. His cock hardened at the thought of drinking from you, his icy tongue lapping over the countless bite marks that he'd decorated your neck with.

"I know, sweet love. Sadly, I'll have to return to …inferior blood." An adorable pout covered his beautiful features - which made your heart flutter.

"You should get to work then, my love." You whispered in his pointy ear, pressing small kisses along his cheekbone, and you wrapped your legs around his strong back. The vampire chuckled at your words, "Oh, darling." He groaned, elated to see you so eager to get bred by him. His hardness teased over your wet and warm folds, making himself slick before he'd slide home. His arms snaked under yours, to completely wrap himself around you protectively, burying his face into your neck. The intoxicating smell of your blood so close to his lips, made him lose control over his pace and bucked his strong core into yours, drenched cock sliding deep in your sex.

"Fuck, Astarion…" You gasped in pleasure, his large cock burying itself deep deep deep within your folds. The vampire watched your features contort into pure bliss, and bit his lips in return - until he was nestled as deep as possible.

"This is what you want, isn't it, my darling?" Astarion whispered, while you clawed at his back - sweet agony from his pressure on your cervix. His way with words was too much to bear. Icy lips found your ear again, dripping with sin, "Completely inside your warm, wet, delicious cunt."

You could only whimper Astarion and nod, your fingers buried in his soft curls, as his hips started to gently, slowly thrust inside you. His cock felt so perfect. Big, firm, as if he was carved just for you.

"Fuck, darling," Your husband growled, losing himself deep inside you, speeding up his pace, shifting his position so that he could hold onto your hips for leverage. His red eyes feasted on your body, the most beautiful creature he'd ever set his gaze on. He could hear your heart beating faster. Blood pumping through your veins. Cheeks flushed red. He was salivating for you.

"Please, Astarion…" You cried out in delicious agony, needy for him to grab and fuck you harder. Impregnate you. Show Faerûn that you completely belong to him.

"What is it, my love?" He growled with bared teeth, sounds of wet, sloppy thrusts filling the bedroom.

"Bite me once more." You begged, holding onto his strong shoulders, "Just one last time, please."

Yes. One more time he could have you. His sanguine hunger kicked in, and he couldn't restrain himself anymore, "Oh my, darling…" He moaned In relief, his thrusts never faltering, thanking you over and over again for your gift - until he set his fangs in your neck.

One last time that sharp, ice-cold feeling washed over your senses - unable to move or do anything. Delicious pain mixed with heavenly pleasure, both of your orgasms were nearing. No combination more delicious for your husband - your fresh blood spilling from his lips and your cunt wrapped tightly around him. Pleasure welled up inside of your belly, enduring your vampire's violent kiss - until you reached your peak while he drank from your neck.

His digits dug into the sheets, pupils dilated as he released from your neck in time, overcome with adrenaline and power.

"That's it, my darling…"

His thrusts became harder, faster - his bloody lips finding yours, tongue invading your mouth. You were absolutely spent already, having lost nearly two pints of your blood again - so you held onto him for dear life. The metallic taste of your blood made you nearly gag if he wasn't lapping it up off your lips like a hungered animal.

"Astarion, fuck… Make me fucking pregnant." You cried desperately against his lips, his big cock bumping against your cervix with each thrust. And like always, he delivered your plea - and with a deep and primal groan he reached his peak. "Fuck, oh - Fuck - darling!" He growled with bloody fangs, his crimson eyes rolling in the back of his head, jets of his release splattering right against your cervix. Filled up to the brim.

Sated with blood and pleasure, he collapsed on top of you, holding you dearly in the afterglow of your pleasure. Sweaty, bloody bodies pressed against each other. His face buried against the side of your neck, lapping remnants of your blood one last time.

"Can't get enough of it, can't you, sweet?" You grinned.

"Never, my love." He smiled against your flesh as his cold hand gently caressed your lower belly - hoping that his love would nestle itself deep inside of you tonight.

"I love you, Astarion."

"And I love you, my darling. Forever."

[zwolfgames]

Platonic Yandere Baldurs Gate 3 x teen reader (Drabble)

(Just a quick idea i might flesh out a bit more in the future. Just take it as a oneshot at the moment. Reader is about 13-14 ish. For Gale's ever dying annoyance you'll be a sorcerer. I like to imagine the reader as a thiefling cuz theyre cool, but whatever you want goes as it isnt described anywhere.)

Warnings: None.

"Why... is there a child here?"

You heard the gith woman speak to mostly no-one as you had encountered her on this burning mess of a mindflayer ship.

You wonder that yourself. Why take you? Just a little teen with no real significance? Surely there's better candidates for the mindflayers to infest...

"I can hear you, you know?" You sigh and walk closer to the unknown woman.

Sure Githyanki people were known to mercilessly slay anything that even resembled an obstacle.. But seeing as you're having the same problem... and she also looks lost... you'd take this one chance.

"Don't speak to me." The woman hisses. Her armor glints in the light of an explosion out of the ships' window.

You shrug and walk past her. Moving trough the choatic halls of this fleshlike vehicle. The scurrying brains on the floor weren't a pleasant sight... but you've seen worse.

All you really had on you were the clothes you were abducted with, your long stick from the woods that you used to practise your magic and a dagger because your mother had advised you to carry one...

But against otherwordly foes... this aresenal looked a bit bleak...

You soon noticed the woman following you silently. Why? You didn't know. Probably because of the aforementioned fact that she also didn't have a clue what to do here.

"So what's your name?" You spoke curiously. Not that scared of the gith anymore now that her shining blade remained sheathed.

"I said to not speak to me, tshk." The gith woman sneered.

"Just curious." You respond with your hands in a surrendering motion.

But you get it, she's cautios. You'd be too if you met some kid on a mindflayer ship. They're not exactly common. It's safe of her to assume you're a ploy.

"My name's Y/N." You just mention for the hell of it. Might aswell die being known.

"... Lae'zel..." Ah... there's the name you wished for.

"Exotic.." You nod in acknowledgement. Probably not the best thing to say at the moment, but for some reason you felt calm. Something in your head was making you think so, atleast.

You and Lae'zel traveled a bit further down the halls of the Nautiloid. Passing by corpses of people with missing brains... yuck. A little chest here.. a little chest there. Your mother would be happy with some extra gold...

"You're a little thief, are you?" Lae'zel spat in distaste.

"Providing for the family, ma'am." You salute jokingly.

Lae'zel looks slightly startled by either your actions or your words. Keeping closer to you as the noises of fighting became louder.

In the end, you and Lae'zel had aquired a new compagnion, a lady named Shadowheart had been freed from one of the mindflayer cocoons. How did you open it, you may ask? Well you just cast Knock. It really took the intrigue off of the buttons next to the pod.. But it made everything easier.

This Shadowheart person was very secretive... immediately throwing hostile statements at Lae'zel, wich the gith returned. You supposed this is what your mother meant by girls infighting?

But all in all, they might despise eachother and glare at you as if you ate their left arm.... they still helped.

Lae'zel had instructed you all to go to the control room, apparently she's felled these ships together with her Githyanki squadrons before. Wich is cool, but you wouldn't say that considering Shadowheart might want you dead if you admit any liking for a gith.

What met you at the control panel was a big fight... well for your standards, that is. You were used to stray magic monsters or stealing goblins...

An infernal general of the hells... well not really on your preffered list of foes....

Luckily you had your two capable compagnions. Shadowheart blasted that guy with continous holy blasts, while Lae'zel just rammed a greatsword trough his fiery armor.

Cool, fighting is... cool. Atleast your spells were used for more then washing the dishes at home now.

After taking over the ship, it just fully crashed, you felt the air whip in your hair and cut into your skin as you fell down along with the debree of the Nautiloid.

Lae'zel and Shadowheart were nowhere in sight... so you tightly closed your eyes, bracing for impact... Wow... you'd be so lucky if you knew feather falling right now... bummer that you didn't.

The impact didn't come. You felt light for just a moment before you just passed out onto a wet patch of sand.

Well... not dead.. yet.

"Hey... wake up.."

Something... or considering their ability to talk, someone nudged your shoulder.

You blinked your tired eyes open. Sclera feeling dry and burned from the amount of ash on the crashed ship.

A drow stood above you. Wich is... very strange, where were you? They don't live on the surface... do they?

"How has a true soul landed themselves here? You look too pathetic for our majesty." The drow woman sneers in disgust. You know... the amount of woman hating on you was getting a bit disturbing.

"A true.. soul?" You spoke hoarsley. Throat parched from all the fire, along with being passed out here for gods know how long..

"Oh you are such an imbecile asswell. It does no good to have a putulent child as a true soul... I ought to end your suffering myself." The woman growled. Wow, just when you were about to say she had the same hairstyle as your mom-

Wow!- a sword next to your head. Yikes!

The drow still glared. Not yet having sliced your head in two due to a sound further down the beach. Sandy footsteps coming closer.

With a scowl she retreated into the wreckage of the nautiloid. Hiding from whoever was walking this way. You sat up with a groan in response. Holding your thumping head.It was no other then Shadowheart that found you. Somewhat looking relieved to see a familiar face, yet that annoyance still persisted.

"You've made it. Good. You're a bit too young to die." The black haired half-elf spoke and pulled you up.

"You almost make it sound like you care.." You cough out some dust after your teasing remark.

"Well we survived together. I'll take it as a sign that we better stick together." Shadowheart sigh and crosses her arms over her plated chest. You wonder how her eyeshadow hasn't melted off.

"You think Lae'zel made it too?" You ask a bit hesitantly, not wanting to get a death glare again.

"Im sure she did, gith are ruthless." Shadowheart scoffs and leads you further from your place on the beach. Moving on to a forest, wich you really didn't mind. You've basically been raised in the woods. Its a wonder that you didn't turn out as a druid.

"Help! A mindflayer, right here! Help me!"

Some pathetic call came from between the wreckage. Well... if you see one then it's too late? No?

Shadowheart seemed to think the same... Wich sucked, because that meant you'd have to be the better person here and see.

With a sigh of reluctance you walked towards the voice. Being carefull of the burning wreckage around you.

You ended up on a dune overseeing the beach, looking down you saw the man thats been screaming for help into the sky as if the gods would come get him.

"Are you blind? There's not even a tentacle in sight!" You yell down at him. You see the white haired elf jump and look up at you and Shadowheart.

"It was right here! I swear, come down and look!" The posh sounding man urges.

"You think were stupid. You're littarly holding a dagger!" You shout back.

"So are you! You irritating child!" The pale elf shouts back. You glare at him and he glares at you.

"So what's your real problem?" You scowl in annoyance.

"... Well fine, I don't know what to do from here, I dont even know how I survived-" The man points at the crash site. "-this."

"Would you like to join our 'we don't know what to do from here and we don't even know how we survived' club?" You grin in amusement. Shadowheart gives you a dissaproving wack on the arm and the man doesn't look happy by your mocking.

Two beats later he sighs. "Fine... untill I find a way back..."

"So what's your name? I'm Y/N and this is... actually I'll let her decide if she wants to tell or not." You nod.

"Shadowheart." The woman growls out in annoyance at your irritating behavior.

"Astarion.." The pale elf nods. Making his way up to you two.

So that made three... or if you found Lae'zel... four.

Before you could even scream for your Githyankee acquaintance, another problem stood in your way.

The very obvious portal with a hand trough it.. yelling 'help! A little help!'.

Well... maybe if it added a please?

"I can sense you there! A little help, please!" Ah.. there was the please.

This hand didn't look cursed... so it should be fine right?

"Let's not? Mhh? Who knows, maybe it's a mindflayer." Astarion advices with some smug purr.

"Well he said please, didn't your mom teach you any manners?" You huff with a roll of your (e/c) eyes. The elf froze at the sentence and Shadowheart just looked annoyed that you were once again helping someone when you didn't have time.

You huff and take the hand. Pulling at it in vain as this portal remains steadfast in holding this person on the other side.

"You can do it, just keep pulling, my friend."

The male voice called out. You set your feet properly into the dirt around you and pull with your while back put into it. As the mans purple sleeve shows due to you pulling him out, you decide to grab that instead, making your way down his arm.

Shadowheart can't seem to look at your struggle anymore and helps tug.

Together the bearded man comes crashing out of the portal.

He stands up and dusts his robes off.

"Hello, I'm Gale of Waterdeep, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance- Why are you a child?" The man stops his speech to once again asses that you are in fact a kid. Well, you prefer teen, as the number ten isn't in the didgits of your age for nothing. But sure yea, let's all keep bullying the kid.

"Well one day I was born, and from there on I began to age-" You start snidely. The man- Gale, stops you from your useless banter.

"I know how aging works... But why are you involved with... this all?" He asks in concern.

"Oh so you're genuinely a minor? I just assumed you were on the short side." Astarion notes randomly. Putting a hand over his heart as a theatric pose.

"I'm here because I also got abducted by mindflayers, there's nothing more to it. Do you want to join us in in walking around aimlessly or do we stick you back trough the portal?" You look up at Gale with a raised brow.

"Right, walking around aimlessly it is..." The bearded man sighs and takes your hand. Whatever his reasons, he seems the most startled by seeing a minor waltz around all this mindflayer stuff.

Your aquired band of misfits manage to locate Lae'zel, who had just broken out of a cage. Not looking too happy too see the growing group.

After a round of names and insults, she informed everyone... well... really just you because somehow everyone else seemed to know it all already, that you've all been infected by mindflayer tadpoles. Yuck, the last thing you wanted was tentacles on your face, what would your mother think!

Gale reassured you that that wouldn't happen and that- just like Lae'zel said- we were going to find a cure..

Or try. Whatever came first. Really.

So you set foot into the forest, hoping to find a hint of civilization to find the nearest healer. Lae'zel had been captured by patrolling thieflings.. so there must be something around here.

And you were all right. You had ended up at the emerald grove. Quickly getting pulled into their problems with the local druids and the refugees... Some Halsin guy was missing, apparently he was very important.. And he was in some goblin camp... full of goblin cultists? You were really glad Gale was writing this down because your attention span didn't make it trough this.

Wandering around the Emerald Grove had landed you an audience with the resident folk hero, the Blade of Frontiers! Wich was actually the coolest thing up ti'll now. Your mother used to tell you stories of what this man did at your age, saving a village from evil cultists, his many good deeds.

The legends true name was Wyll... wich was cool too. The darker skinned human quickly offered your group to take you over, so they could continue their journey without the worry of a teen. You were surpised when Shadowheart protested. Astarion didn't seem glad with the possibility of your absence either.

You were confused, Lae'zel was confused and Wyll himself was probably the most baffled.

He seemed to just assume you must be someones family here and offered to come with if you helped him find a demon he had to slaughter.

Yea ok, seems fair. Anything for the Blade of Frontiers.

Events went faster now, you had a bigger group, they were all quite choatic, not matching eachothers morals or ways.

Astarion was teaching you the art of pickpocketing while you all explored the grove for more information on the lost druid Halsin.

Gale was discouraging you from listening to the elf. Trying to teach you new spells instead, even trough his annoyance of your sorcerer ways. How could you learn magic without a book! What do you mean you just accidently set your treehouse on fire when you were four?!

Wyll seemed to find you quite amusing, seeing you snark back at these intimidating adults (Lae'zel) and observing how a child from a city outside of Baldurs Gate dealt with all the information.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel were still going about their mutual hatred. Why them two?

You don't know.

Goth vs frog, the neverending battle.

No matter, however. As you all found this 'demon' Wyll was after. Turned out its some nice thiefling named Karlach.

The votes on what to do were varying. Wyll didn't want to kill a non hell-being.Lae'zel told him just to get the pact over with, same for Astarion.Gale and Shadowheart were for the cancelation of this execution. Both for very diffrent reasons.

But due to Wyll being as good as you imagined him, he didn't kill the woman. Great, since she's the first one that had a positive reaction to meeting you.

Karlach saw her more carefree years in you... Just some dumb kid fighting things and messing with ploys that didn't concern you.

Thats how it all started... Karlach. The barbarian had begun the urges in your group to not let this kid they got saddled up with to get corrupted.

Everything's so bad already. They can save one thing, no?

Your first night camping with the bunch was quite fun. You helped Gale with cooking, your mother taught you well after all. The wizard was shocked as he hadn't expected a child out of everyone here to be the only one to help.

Fine enough, you made dinner.

And love goes trough the stomach, or so the saying goes. With a hoard of hungry stomachs fed, the appreciation towards 'random kid were stuck with' really picked up.

You wouldn't make it long without them getting attached. Too bad you tought you were going on a fun adventure. This isn't just some fun little thing...

Welcome to your new found family <3

Don't really know what compelled me to write this, I just miss bg3 because I'm on a road trip 😔. But if anyone's interested, I'd surely answers asks about this... thingy? Hope you kinda enjoyed atleast. Adios.

[graveyardcuddles]

Rhapsody - Astarion x GN!Reader one-shot

You and Astarion are ready to embark on a new journey together. You begin by shedding a painful piece of his past.

A/N: I'm brand new to hobby writing, and this is my first ever fic! This was based on something I actually did with my Tav and Astarion in-game.

tags/warnings: sfw, established relationship, gender neutral!reader, nondescript reader, tavstarion (reader is tav), kissing, in-game spoilers, angst, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of Cazador-related trauma, feelings, fluff.

Word count: ~2000

It's a quiet early evening in the Elfsong tavern. The private room you share with your lover is warm, windows shuttered and curtains drawn. As you entered the room, you froze, stopping to admire the sight before you. Astarion was resting in the comfort of your shared bed. Trancing, to be precise. He hadn't been trancing these past few days, and the sight of your silver-haired love resting peacefully filled you with relief. Slowly, you peel off your boots and make your way over to your resting vampire. Your hands and knees sank into the plush of the bed cautiously in an attempt to avoid disturbing his trance. He was roused from it easily. Eventually, you managed to settle your head on the pillow, simply observing him in a rare moment of peace. He lay unnaturally still, chest unmoving, eyelashes resting delicately where his lovely dark circles ran under his eyes. Hair tousled, collar bones just peaking out of where the top buttons of his shirt clasped together. His face was calm, with no trace of tension he usually had during his night terrors. You smiled. Eventually, your lids grew heavy.

It had been only a week since you and your companions had destroyed the world-ending threat of the mindflayer Grand Design. Your little group of unlikely friends were declared Heroes of the Gate. You should be feeling triumphant, but your victory had been bittersweet. Despite taking pride in the fact he had been one of its saviors, Baulder's Gate would always remain host to Astarion's worst memories. Just returning to the city alone was overwhelming for him: facing his old stalking grounds, his siblings, Cazador. Your relationship had only recently evolved into something more after his confession in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. You knew this would be difficult and messy for him, but you were already hopelessly devoted to this beautiful broken man who was finally trusting you with his heart, wholly and freely.

So you took his heart in your hands and held it gently through all his anxieties and fears. Through the sleepless nights, the sobbing, the flashbacks, and phantom pains. All of which only increased as his confrontation with Cazador drew closer, and the promise of power and security that came with ritual became more and more tempting to him. You feared dearly that you were losing him and that your love and pleas for him to see reason wouldn't be enough to stop him. The fear wound itself around you like a bramble, the heartache gnawing away at you daily.

In the end, your worst fears did not come to pass. He rejected the profane power of the ritual in return for freedom with you. In that bloody moment when Astarion finally ended Cazador, you were in awe of him. His glorious spirit and strength. You allowed him to let out over 200 years of grief and rage. Watched closely as he came back to himself. Helped him back to the Elfsong to clean him up and tend to his wounds. Later on that night, after things had settle and he was in the aftermath of his victory, you had asked him what he wanted now that he was free. "You," he had answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It was you that he wanted.

He had taken you to the very soil where his two hundred years of torment had begun and made love to you in that very place as a declaration of his new life and freedom. He cleared away every painful thorn of doubt and fear covering your heart, much like he had cleared the vines growing over his tombstone with his own two hands. The beginning of a new life with you. Sadly, the two of you hardly had time to properly celebrate Cazador's death before returning immediately to securing new allies and calculating battle strategies against Orin, Gortash and finally the Netherbrain's forces themselves. It had all been a whirlwind in which neither you hardly had any time to truly relish in Astarion's new liberation.

You would never forget that horrifying moment the sun had turned on him. It's once gentle warmth that had given him so much comfort on your journey now becoming a burning, searing light. When you found him shortly after, hidden behind some crates, he was still scarred from the light. His face and hands were ashened, pieces of what were once his flesh practically flaking off in cinders. He was panicking, and you tried your best to stay calm for him. You offered him your wrist, reminding him he needed blood to heal. It only seemed to further distraught him. He was just as furious as you expected him to be and more so. Furious that after everything he went through, he was being forced back into the shadows again. Furious at you for pitying him. Furious at Cazador. But most of all, he was furious at himself for having dared to have hoped again. For thinking that just because he had been a very good boy and helped to save the world that the gods or fate or anyone would take pity on him and grant him this one thing. But no.

He sat there on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest. He had yelled so much about how foolish he had been to expect any outcome other than this, you half-expected his voice to give out. Eventually, he went quiet for a few long minutes before looking up at you, his beautiful red eyes full of sorrow. He tried to smile at you, but it broke off into a scoff.

"I'm never going to see you in the sunlight again."

He let out a long laugh full of bitterness before pressing his face back into his knees and breaking into a sob. It was then that you closed the gap between you two, holding him as wept. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to take him by the shoulders and swear a paladin's oath to him personally that he WOULD walk in the sun again. That you were making it your life's mission. But you knew that wouldn't help him now. It wouldn't lessen the sting. It wouldn't soften the blow. Right now, he needed to mourn, and so mourn you let him.

You held him there and let him weep in your arms. When you offered him your blood again, he finally accepted, drinking in your healing essence and regenerating the scorched skin and flesh. You caressed the newly healed skin softly, kissing it with tenderness and reassuring him that he looked good as new. Later on that same evening, after you managed to make it back to Elfsong with him and were together in bed, he took your hand in his.

"I want to apologize, darling," You were confused, but he continued. "I acted abhorrent to you in a moment of weakness. I was so... angry about what I had lost. I was blind to what I still had in front of me."

He cupped your face, stroking the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Your sweet vampire. You took his hand and kissed his knuckles one by one. You reassured him that he had nothing to apologize for. The sun was one of the few pleasantries from his mortality that he could relish in again while tadpoled. The caress of its rays had become synonymous with freedom itself for him. And with the new love between you two. To have that ripped away would make anyone angry.

It was then that you told him that you WOULD help him find a way to walk in sunlight again. He had been surprised to hear you say so, as if he had expected you to write it off entirely as an impossibility, as he already had. But your words seemed to spark a new sense of hope in him. It was what he said next that took you off guard.

"That is...if this is what you want?" Your heart dropped. Surely he didn't still doubt how you felt about him? "I can understand if you would want to part ways..." Even as he says it, his eyes momentarily drop to the floor, and he sways a bit uneasily.

He is still always expecting the worst. Anticipating more grief. You took his hands gently into yours, telling him that if you thinks you're seriously going to break up with him now after everything you two have been through together, then he's going to have to start being a LOT more annoying. Because he isn't getting rid of you any time soon.

The next several days would be spent together, processing everything you had gone through. Your companions had all gone their seperate ways fairly quickly after a hasty celebration: Wyll and Karlach to Avernus, Lae'zel to war against Vlaakith, Gale to return the Crown to Mystra, Shadowheart with her parents and Halsin with his foundlings. After only a few days, it just you and Astarion left in the city. You had stayed by his side throughout this time, only ever leaving to get food or check on the acquaintances you had made in the city. But you were both growing restless. He appreciated your presence, but you could tell the time was coming for the both of you to move on from this place and make a new adventure for yourselves together.

You hadn't even realized you had fallen asleep until a few hours had passed. As you open your eyes, you see your pale elf has moved from the bed. He's seated on the floor, in front of the chest full of the shared things the two of you have gathered along your journey. You slide off the bed, and he turns his head to smile at you. "There you are," his eyes were a soft shade of carnelian in the warm lamp light. You came to sit by him. He seems concentrated on whatever he's holding. You touch his shoulder and look to see what he's examining. A dagger. Not just any dagger but one that made your blood run nearly as cold as Astarion's. Rhapsody. The dagger Cazador had used to scar his back, and the one which would ultimately end his wretched existence. Nineteen times. Astarion had stabbed Cazador nineteen times. You had counted each stab. Presently, he was turning the blade in his hand with a contemplative expression.

"Hideous, isn't it?" He scoffs. You noted he was taking care to only touch the dagger's ornate hilt and pommel, avoiding touching the actual blade at all.

"Is it..?" You stared at the twin design of the twisting gnarled metal.

"Silver? Naturally. How else is one supposed to permanently scar a vampire?"

You bit back the sympathetic words that were lingering on your tongue, knowing he wouldn't want to hear them now.

"Pretty effective at killing vampires as well, I'd say." You quipped gently. Astarion hummed in response, but his expression remained contemplative.

"Yes. I suppose it might be somewhat useful if we ever get on the wrong side of another vampire," he mused. You lean in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you pondered the dagger. "True. Could also be useful if Petras ever decides to come around and bother us."

You're almost startled as he throws his head back and barks out a loud laugh. He sets the dagger down as it's obviously lost his attention for the moment. "Darling!" He exclaims. "You were the one who convinced me to save the poor wretch! Twice, in fact! Only to want him dead now? I mean, it's understandable, but clearly, I'm having a bad influence on you."

You couldn't help but smile back. This was the most you had seen him smile or laugh since losing the sun. His laughter was so light and airy it made your heart burst. "Yes, you are such a very bad influence on me, Astarion."

You crawled over to him, eyes locked. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his gaze softens as you asked permission to go further. He answers by giving you a series of playful kisses leading along your jaw from your earlob to your lips. He locks on those lips and deepens his kiss, going slow and taking his time. A deep, passionate kiss. Your hands find their way into his curls, and they twine their way around your fingers loosely. He sighs into the kiss, whole body relaxing into you. When you pull apart, he's smiling, a touch of melancholy still lingering on his features.

"I saw you in my reverie," he says unexpectedly. You listen to him intently as he continues. "We were leaving the Shadow-Cursed Lands after Shar's curse had been lifted. I hadn't seen the sun in weeks, and then there you were, bathed in its light. I hadn't realized until that moment how beautiful you were in sunlight." He smiles sadly and kisses your hand.

You give his hand a gentle squeeze and look him in the eye. "And it's a sight you will see again one day, my love. I promise you." Your arms come around him and hold him close, stroking his hair and simply letting him feel. After a few minutes, he seems to come back to you. "I want to leave this stupid city already," he says plainly. You chuckle and pull away from him. "Me too, my love. We can leave as soon as tomorrow if you'd like."

Astarion's gazes at your travel chest again. He takes out the dagger again, looking at this time with disgust. "And I want to get rid of... this thing," he says with bile in his voice. "It's hideous, just like everything else Cazador ever commissioned. All that damn wealth, and I swear it's like he challenged himself to own the ugliest pieces of art he could." He huffed and shook his head. "I want to throw this damn thing away." An idea came to you. Looking towards the clock, you note there's still a few hours left before sunrise. "Would you like to get rid of it now?" You ask him, careful to only present it as an option. He's still getting used to making big decisions, and you don't want to pressure him. He looks at you. "Gods, yes."

The two of you head out into the warm night air of the city, and Astarion's nose almost immediately wrinkles in offense. "Gods, how have they still not managed to fully get rid of that rotting squid smell? I thought there were clean-up and recovery efforts underway." You roll your eyes. "There have been clean-up and recovery efforts underway, silly. They've gotten rid of all the Mindflayer corpses already. Your nose is just sensitive." Cloaked in night, the many little homes making up the vast reaches of the Outter City light up on the horizon before you. You walk together and tell him all about the acquaintances you've made in the city and how they had been faring after the chaos of the battle.

Eventually, you make your way to your destination: the docks of Baulder's Gate where you had all pulled yourselves ashore after crash-landing the Netherbrain into the sea. Astarion slows down as you walk along the dock. The last time he was running for his life, burning up in the sun. You hoped returning here with him to do this will make for a proper end to your illithid odyssey. At you stop at the dock's end, you take Astarion's hand in yours. You say nothing, waiting on him to make the next move.

He sighs and takes out Rhapsody, giving it a final look. For a moment, you wonder if he might hesitate. He stares at the blade intensely, holding it as if its weight were far greater than it physically was. Two centuries of terror. Without any further warning or fanfare, the dagger is airborne. For a split second, you can just barely make out a tiny glint of moonlight reflecting off the blade as it flew through the air. With a small splash, it's gone forever. Astarion lets out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in. "You monster!" You exclaimed with mock horror. "You just murdered some poor innocent fish!"

Astarion rolls his eyes. "Maybe the Hero of the Gate should go and rescue the poor thing." He grabs you around your waist, his newfound vampiric strength catching you off-guard. He spins you around as if he means to literally throw you off the dock, and while you're fairly certain he's joking, you panic nonetheless. You let out a high-pitched "ASTARION!" that practically comes out as a shriek.

He's giggling like a madman as he sets you down, holding your shoulders for a moment to steady you. "You're lucky I love you as much as I do, you know," you mutter as he continues to laugh at how easily he can tease you. "You're adorable when you pretend to be annoyed with me," he says. The two of you sit on the dock together for a long while, holding hands and simply taking in the starlight dancing on the water. "There's something else I wanted to discard as well, actually." He reaches into his pocket and produces two rings that you recognize as the twin Szarr family rings you had used to unlock your way through Cazador's mansion.

Astarion contenplates the rings in his palm. "You know I..." the words catch in his throat, seemingly paralyzed. You wait for him to continue, and after a few moments, he shakes his head, a smile barely perceptible.

"It's nothing, my dear. You know Cazador really did have the most hideous taste in things, including jewelry. Can you imagine wearing these? Ugh." You take one of the rings and examine it. "Hmm. Not my style, I'll be honest."

"That's because you're not blind, darling." He stands up and prepares to throw it.

"Together?"

"Together."