#my Tav is kind of stupid honestly

[glitzgremlin]

Can we set aside the debate over whether Astarion is inherently “evil” or not and acknowledge that he’s kind of right? On a grand scale, if you’re a hero with a heart in Baldur’s Gate 3, you *are* unique and if you’re not a little suspicious of everyone, your chances of survival in Faerun are not great. Do you know how many people I trusted right before they tried to kill me the first time I played the game? If this were a real situation, I would probably be too gullible to survive. Somebody probably needs to be judging me and scoffing in the background. You’re right, Astarion--I should probably at least *consider* minding my own business. Who let me be in charge, anyway? Faerun is a big, scary world full of devils and slave-traders and vampire lords and capricious gods, etc. Any sweet old lady or colorful local could turn out to be a villain in disguise. Or even just an asshole in disguise—I probably would have been less inclined to help out a few of these pixel-people for free too if I’d have known they were going to be such dicks about it (you know who they are). I still prefer to keep being a good guy because it hurts my feelings to be mean to the pixel-people, but I’m just saying, I get it--we’re definitely not safe out here, especially with my dumb Tav at the helm.   

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Gale x Tav Kissing Headcanons

A/N: The patch 6 announcement has me back on my bullshit. I know I write a lot for Astarion, but this stupid wizard has my heart too. Here’s to hoping we get to make out with him soon.

Gale’s kisses come in stages

Obviously for a long time he’s very concerned about the orb and getting too excited, as it were

Even after the orb is stabilized and you have your first night together, some part of him thinks he’s getting away with something

The kisses shared between you are fleeting, but tender

While he adores your lips, he’ll just as happily kiss your hand or the top of your head, really any place he can reach

He wants to stay, even if it’s just the barest kiss you can sense it pains him to pull away, but you have other things to do

If he pushes his luck, maybe you’ll be the one to pull away first; he knows he can be a bit…much

The longer your together, the less hesitant he is

All he really needs is for you to pull him back into a deeper kiss a few times in a row for him to get the message

Once he has your permission, it’s nearly impossible for him to keep his hands off you

He still feels like he’s getting away with something, that at any second you’re going to realize he’s not enough or maybe the orb comes back or honestly just the daily dangers you have on your journey are going to tear you away, but instead of bracing for rejection, it just makes him hungry

He starts kissing you like it’s the end of the fucking world, but, in his defense, it kind of is

Even soft kisses come with hands cupping your face as he sharply inhaled your scent

He also can’t help but steal a few more, as if making up for lost time

Kisses after a fight are positively indecent

We already know he gets horny, but knowing he can touch you after makes him practically vibrate

He has enough self control to wait until your properly healed and back at camp, but not enough to wait until after you bath before he’s pulling your some place private and kissing the air right out of your lungs

That’s not to say every kiss leads to something more, only that he’s less reserved in putting all his love and adoration into every touch

He worships you, let him worship you

The feeling can be addicting, but it’s also something you might need to work on with him

Everybody wants to be loved, but being truly in love you need to be a partner, not a goddess on a pedestal

Your mortal and so is he, you don’t need worship, you just need him

And when he finally gets that into his thick skull you find him kissing you in all new ways

Without the threat of the Elder Brain or the crown, Gale finally feels like he has time

He still can’t keep his hands off you, but there is a warm security in it

He’s not afraid your going to pull away

He can kiss you slowly, savor the taste as he smiles against your lips

He can tease you and know you’ll just laugh and pull him back again

His finds he loves kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck as he simply holds you from behind for no other reason than because he can

Even when he finds himself distracted by grading papers or some new discovery, he’ll reach out for your hand, bringing it to his lips to make sure you know he knows your there

He starts to plan his mornings allowing for at least an extra fifteen minutes to get out of bed because how can he be expected to get anything done before he’s properly kissed you awake

Maybe things will teeter off later down the line, his colleagues have teased him more than once about the honeymoon phase

But even years down the line, he can’t see himself slowing down

Honestly the fact that it’s expected for people to be less in love with their spouse after their married is something he can’t find himself ever understanding (skill issue)

He doesn’t kiss you like it’s the end of the world, he kisses you like the world is going to keep on spinning, that time is going to keep moving forward and the best way he knows how to spend it is with you

[bitethedevil]

Good Little Mouse (Raphael x Reader/Tav): NSFW Shortfic

Tags: breeding, mind-control, oral, non-con/dub-con, NSFW, revengefucking, degradation

Summary: Reader/Tav did not give Raphael the Crown but it ended up in his hands anyway. You become Raphael's pet as revenge and he uses the Crown of Karsus on you to keep you docile.

(AN: The devil be deviling in this one. It is extremely fucked up. I don't even know guys. This is some pretty depraved shit. I didn't write this. I was possessed. The devil made me do it, I swear. This isn't who I am.)

WARNINGS: Just fucking all of them, honestly. Non-con/dub-con. Mind-control. Mild Violence. Forced pregnancy. Manipulation and Abusive Behaviour.

NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT

“The poor little thing has been inconsolable since you left,” Haarlep said to Raphael when he entered the boudoir and looked at you with an exaggerated pout.

You barely knew what was going on, since Raphael had you under his power. He used the Crown of Karsus to keep you docile and entirely dependent on him.

Even though you could barely even think, you never confused Haarlep for Raphael. You knew the face of your master. He was your whole world.

“Is that so?” Raphael said gently. He changed into his human form and sat down beside you on the bed. He ran his fingers through your hair and you smiled at his touch. “Did you miss me, sweetling?”

You nodded. He talked to you as if you were a pet. You essentially were: you had a collar with a leash around your neck and you barely had the brainpower to construct a sentence anymore.

If your brain was still working, you would have recognized that he had done all of this as a sick kind of revenge for all the snarky comments and resistance you had given him during your adventures. 

You had denied him at every turn, but you had been stupid enough to leave the Crown in the Chionthar and when Raphael got his hands on it, a reckoning came. You could barely remember any of it. Your whole mind was directed at one thing now: Raphael.

“Can you kiss Haarlep goodbye?” Raphael asked you gently with a smirk on his face as he petted your hair. 

You obediently turned to Haarlep. They threw a disappointed glance at Raphael before kissing you deeply. Their tongue delved into your mouth and their saliva mixed with yours. 

Haarlep let go of the kiss and left the boudoir. You felt the familiar tingle of arousal starting to spread in your abdomen. 

You felt a tug on your leash and your attention turned to Raphael again. He pointed to the spot at his feet.

“On the floor,” Raphael ordered. When you quickly complied, he ran his hand over your hair. 

Your body was on fire. It was by complete instinct when you tried to sneak your hand between your legs. Raphael delivered a swift and firm slap to your cheek for doing so.

“Ah-ah” he warned and pulled your head backwards by your hair so you were looking up at him.

You quickly put your hands on his thighs instead. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a quick learner. What is it that you want, my sweet?”

You just kept looking up at him. You wanted him, but your mind and your mouth failed you. Your mind was mush because of the magic and Haarlep’s spit. 

“Oh, my sweet empty-headed girl,” Raphael cooed with a smile on his face as he caressed your cheek. “You are not as outspoken as you used to be, are you? I think it rather suits you.”

His thumb brushed over your lips.

“No matter…” he purred as you opened your mouth and let his thumb into your mouth. “I think we can put that rude mouth of yours to much better use…don’t you agree?”

You nodded as you eagerly sucked on his thumb. He began undoing his pants with his free hand, his eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes lit up.

“That certainly caught your attention,” Raphael said with a chuckle. He removed his thumb from your mouth and got up from the bed to tower over you. “Open your mouth, dear”

You did.

“Wider…wider…” he ordered, slightly pulling on your jaw. When your mouth was wide open for him, he praised you: “Such a good pet…Now, keep it open like that until I tell you otherwise, understand?”

You nodded.

You kept your mouth wide open and closed your lips around him as his length slid into your mouth. Without any warning, he started fucking your throat in slow but hard thrusts.

It was difficult not to gag around. It hurt and your eyes were tearing up, but you were still looking up at him, hungry for his approval. 

“This…is where you belong, dear,” Raphael said with a smile between groans of pleasure. “All of that energy wasted on trying to humiliate me and deny me…” he groaned as he slid his whole length down your throat. “I knew from the moment we met, from that first little clever comment of yours, that this is where you truly belong…beneath me.”

You had tears and drool down your face from trying to accommodate his length and his forceful thrusts. He withdrew from your mouth and gestured to you that you could close your mouth again. Your jaw ached. He admired your ruined face for a moment before grabbing your leash.

He pulled you up from the floor and into a standing position before bending you over the bed. He ran his hands over your ass. He squeezed your cheeks and spread them to get a better view of your dripping slit.

“So eager,” he purred and brushed a finger lightly over your clit, making you slightly jump because your unbearable arousal had made you so sensitive. He chuckled at your reaction. “Is this where you want my attention, hm?”

He slid a single finger into you and it made you moan softly into the mattress. You nodded eagerly. 

“Use your voice,” he ordered and stopped moving his finger. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Mhm,” was all you could say.

“Good girl,” he praised in that patronizing voice of his and added another finger, making you moan louder and push yourself back onto his fingers.

He bent down to place a few kisses up your back before whispering in your ear:

“Do you want more?”

“Mhm,” you said and nodded.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Raphael purred in her ear before standing up behind you. You heard a snap. “Careful what you wish for.”

You grasped onto the sheets and tried to bite down into the mattress as he slowly entered you. Usually, he at least did you the kindness of only fucking you in his human form. This time he had for some reason changed into his devil form and his length stretched you out to a point where it was painful.

You whined into the sheets and squirmed as his whole length fully entered you. Raphael leaned down to your ear and stroked your side.

“Oh, my sweet, is it too much for you?” Raphael asked in a gentle voice.

You nodded. 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

You nodded again.

“Poor little thing,” he purred in your ear. “We could stop, of course. Although that would make me very disappointed…You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

You tensed up. His entire length was inside you and it was way too much…but you wanted his approval. His attention. His love. You wanted nothing more. You lived to serve him.

You shook your head.

“Good,” he said and started slowly thrusting into you. 

You barely had any time to adjust to his size before he picked up the pace. It felt like heaven and hell at the same time. It hurt, but there was also overwhelming pleasure.

It was brutal and it was with a specific goal in mind. Raphael was always determined to cum inside you. 

He let Haarlep play with you, but they were never allowed to use anything but their fingers or their mouth. Only Raphael was allowed to take you like this. You knew there was a reason, but you never truly grasped it with your ruined mind.

“Do you want me to fill you?” Raphael asked between thrusts. “You'll be a good girl and carry my bastards…isn’t that so?”

You nodded.

You heard a cruel chuckle from him and his thrusts became even more brutal. He came inside you with a groan shortly after. He stayed inside you while he caught his breath. 

“Perhaps I’ll send you back to your friends when you start to show, while you are still under my control, so you can happily inform them that you are to become a mother…” Raphael said and left a couple of kisses up your back. “Perhaps I’ll simply let you go with no memory of any of this. Leaving you to wonder why that tiefling child of yours looks an awful lot like that devil you kept spurning during your little adventure…”

He ran his fingers through your hair and kissed the back of your neck. 

“Would you like that, dear?” He purred into your ear. 

You nodded and smiled. You would do anything for him. 

You could feel that he was already hard inside you again and he started slowly thrusting again.

"Good little mouse..."

[astarion-approves]

astarion reacts to tav being betrayed by a loved one and tav getting injured during the betrayal?

Astarion x Gender Neutral Tav! - Fucking Randy Astarion first person POV - it's alright lol I can't even think of a summary for this...

Tags: More humor than angst, first person pov (Astarion), 500+ words, drabble, poor description of a fight, OOC Astarion

Summary: Honestly, I don't know what Tav saw in that human. A complete jackass, and one that would eventually get them killed.

Read here or on AO3

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

The battle started just as any other. Tav ahead of us, usually sticking their nose where it didn’t belong, insulting strangers without a second thought, or even just punching someone at random for the hell of it. It was one of the things that made me approve of them so quickly. Their… ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude. I admired it. Loved it, really. 

Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one. 

His name was Randy. Yes, Randy, if you can believe it. A human male who was tall and lanky, but not in an unattractive way— again, unfortunately for me. Somehow he had managed to woo Tav before we’d even met. The barbarian was a complete savage, encouraging Tav to make admittedly stupid decisions, drinking past his limit, and taking advantage of Tav’s kindness without them even realizing it. 

It came as no surprise when Tav spit straight into the face of someone trying to intimidate our group. Hell, I laughed in response. Watching someone wipe spit from their face in shock is never not funny. Disgusting, obviously, but hilarious nevertheless.

Shadowheart clicked her tongue and readied her weapon, Gale doing much the same but with a heavy sigh, Randy (fucking Randy, really? Seriously? Randy? RANDY?!) revealed his sword and steadied it in his hands, and my lovely self exposed my dangers— each of us ready to destroy those who stood before us. 

Tav grinned at their lover, laughing as Randy lunged forward and buried his sword into the spit covered face of the one that stood before them. A dagger would have been a better choice, but who am I to judge? Right? I was only a fucking magistrate. 

Fucker. 

Soon other’s flooded into the area, the quick murder drawing their attention to our group. Tav and Randy worked their way through the group, the rest of us picking off the rangers that tried to hide. 

A quick fight, as it usually was with our group… 

But then… something happened. 

A shot of fire, heading directly towards Tav and Randy— Shadowheart wasn’t fast enough to shield them and the pair were vulnerable against it. I heard Tav scream as Randy grabbed their shoulders and pushed them in front of himself. I could only watch as the fire flew towards them and exploded against Tav’s chest. They fell to the ground, landing on their side, no longer breathing. 

Gale cast a spell in the direction of the killer, but I wasn’t paying attention, I was running to Tav. 

They laid on the ground, their eyes open and staring into nothing, mouth hanging open as if they were still screaming from the blow. I dropped to my knees beside them, cradling their head in my lap, my hands tapping on their cheeks, words flying from my mouth but I didn’t even know what I was saying. 

“Leave them,” Randy said. “We need to keep moving.” 

I flung my dagger into his skull. 

Shadowheart began casting spells, anything they could do to bring Tav back—

But they still laid there. 

Luckily, all we had to do was carry them back to camp and Withers was able to bring them back from the dead. 

Randy we left behind. Because fuck Randy. 

And now, tonight, I’ll be making my first move on Tav. They’re still a little hurt from the betrayal, weeks later. And… they also tell us stories of their nightmares and the cool chill of death that lingers and haunts them— 

But they blush when they look at me, and that’s good enough for me. 

[meanbossart]

Hello hello!

I have to say that ever since I discovered you here, I can't get away from your art! I just adore uncanny things of all kinds…. AND as a social worker I just love it when people put so much thought into the psychology of their OCs. It makes me feel less weird when I write little psychology papers about my own characters.

Anyways! I had this super stupid idea for a picture~ So-. Here we are! After some Tavs made fun of his scars-… from one Drow Durge Creep to another.

Provided, of course, that DU Drow and Lux don't immediately try to kill each other. x)

Although Lux's not a normal Drow either - I like to play with clichés -. So, as a Drow woman, she is much smaller than most men (146 cm [4'7]) and rather reserved when dealing with others. If I could have put her strength stat below 8, I would have ò_ó She's just a skinny ass necromancer.

Besides, she never really met other Drow before she goes into the Underdark with Astarion in the post-game. Because she was raised in Candlekeep after Bhaal threw her somewhere and before she caused the first bloodbath.

So-… she'd probably rather stand behind someone and stare until she's approached-… than actually ask him out for a drink. lol.

Otherwise… Happy Easter to you!

AAAAAAAAAA LOOK AT THESE TWO MESSED UP FUCKERS!!!! They look adorable together, and Lux seems like a real... Uh... A real charmer. I'm sure an encounter between them would be the most harmonious wall of silence and awkward staring the world's ever seen. She's so short too that this behemoth of a man might confuse her for a deep gnome or something, so perhaps they could have an amicable start pfft.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR KIND WORDS, AND FOR TAKING THE TIME TO DRAW MY IDIOT WITH YOURS!!! I guess I could mention here that I'm a psych school dropout to try and explain away all the psycho-analysis that goes on in this blog, but honestly I would probably be doing this regardless, it just turns out I prefer to pick brains that I made myself (and it's free too, unlike college).

Happy Easter to you too, and thank you for the important work you do!

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Another BG3 companions appreciation post, this time after the tiefling party. (Updated ver.)

When I say I love all the companions what I mean is I love all their traits, even the negative ones.

I love Gale who flexed big words and magical knowledge and his connections to Mystra since day one. Call me crazy but without knowing the background I AM impressed by his achievements and knowledge. Of course, his ambition led him too close to the sun, and like the fabled Icarus, he fell. But he's trying to make amends. He's completely surrended to the idea of finding an empty lonely spot for himself and dying alone in excruciating pain and filled with regret. Not even once did it cross his mind that Tav or others would want to continue journeying with him after he confesses about the orb. The moment he told me about his cat I stared at the screen in disbelief because I knew I'm suck his di-

I love Lae'zel who could've killed me right away on the Nautiloid but instead shared all the information with me, helped me fight my way through, tolerated everyone else, and from what I've seen from others Githyanki is actually really nice. She never lets Shadowheart's sneers get to her, offers Gale to teach him to fight, and answers all questions Wyll asks her about her culture. I was genuinely surprised when she not only complied when I ordered her around during the interrogation of Zorru or the confrontation of the Githyanki patrol but also thanked me for stepping in. Her honest, no-nonsense attitude is so refreshing in the story where everyone has secrets and you always know only half of the information if any at all. Everyone in the camp is hiding something from Tav except her. Say what you want but with Lae'zel, what you see is what you get and I really, really like that.

I love Shadowheart because she tries to be a bad guy but that just isn't her. Despite her church's teachings and her secretive and prickly attitude. At the end of the day, she's just a lonely, scared, and lost young woman who was put on a dangerous mission and is expected to deal with it alone. I don't know much about her yet but it's clear from her talks about Sune and various scriptures I found in the game about Dark Justiciars and clerics of Shar... and in all those stories, when they finally got the recognition of their goddess or they've completed their task, all that awaited them was emptiness... That's no way to live for Shadowheart. I can see the small glimpses, just like in Lae'zel, of desire, curiosity and so much want. She was forced to live in a place that forbade any individuality or anything except blind obedience. To just be a pawn for the big guy. But both she and Lae'zel could be so much more than that. Drinking up everything the world has to offer. I really wish that for them.

I love Wyll because...it's Wyll?!? I cannot stress enough how much I am fond of characters that are just good, kind, and selfless. I never get tired of heroic characters who honestly are in it just for helping people. Wyll was living a life of leisure and could be the prodigal son for the rest of his life. Instead, he picked up his sword, donned his stupid superhero name, and went on saving lives. He even went as far as making a deal with the devil just so he could be the hero of the people, not because he enjoyed the fame but because of his ever-present need for charity. He doesn't let anything, not even the tadpole or Mizora get in his way. He could've been one of those Martyrs who blindly follow the black-and-white definition of good and bad, killing Karlach right away. But he spared her, even if all it gained him was punishment. There's something so pure about him in the way he just wants to believe. I'm pretty sure he saw his fair share of fucked up shit while adventuring but he still wants to uphold these ideals of heroism. The boyish chuckle when I insisted that I wanted to dance with him... I'm not smiling like an idiot you do!

I love Astarion not for being the seductive vampire fantasy I thought him to be, but for the absolute chaos gremlin menace he truly is. He's the orange cat, the possum screaming at you from a garbage can, the raccoon hugging a chewed piece of moldy bread. His snark is impeccable, and his over-the-top mannerisms never fail to make me grin like a maniac. I'm strictly good-aligned but I watch him run around causing Situations and I'm like "Yes, you do that sweetheart. You deserve it." There are already many long detailed posts that describe shit he's been through so I'll only say this. I never pitied him or felt sorry for him. I admire him. Sure his path to recovery is nothing short of a mess. He hasn't had much chance at a good ending. But he took every fight kicking and screaming, not willing to give up and he has my respect for that. Because sometimes hope comes in the form of spite and anger. I love watching him rediscover himself at all points in life. I love Astarion the way he is (little shit) while simultaneously believing he can get better, and if that's wrong I don't wanna be right.

Ugh. I'll edit this later and other companions, I'm too tired now.

[serenaoffaerun]

Acquiescence

My version of Chapter 2 to @alpydk's piece, "Consequences" - PLEASE READ THAT FIRST!

Summary: Tav slept with Mizora, Gale left. BIG catty fight ensued for the remainder of their adventures in Baldur's Gate. Hate sex ensues at the epilogue party. And then...

Word Count: 2,640

CW: References to (consenting) sexual encounter, depression, and alcoholism.

Screenshot: Taken from my own gameplay. Please do not re-post as your own.

There are a couple more chapters to follow, because my brain went HAM on this assignment. Stay tuned throughout the week for more!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He spoke first, finally standing up and putting himself back together in his pants. “So, now what?”

She turned to him and pulled her dress back down, trying to flatten the wrinkles and keep her hands busy.

“What do you mean, ‘Now what?’” she barked, a tone slipping out much harsher than she meant. Clenching her fists and slamming her eyes shut, she shook her head quickly, not wanting to go back down this road yet again.

“Sorry, I just…” She sighed and looked at him, continuing in a much gentler tone, “I just mean where could we possibly go from here?” Guilt stabbed at her heart for the eight hundred and fifteenth time that week, and she knew that she was still too tipsy to hide her real emotions much longer.

He sighed, crossed his arms and looked down at his shoes, idly kicking at the dirt with the toe of his boot. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s anywhere to go. But…” He hesitated, unsure if he could commit to his next thought.

He looked up at her while keeping his arms crossed, lest he slip into some inadvertently romantic gesture like grabbing her hands. As he took in the sight of her hair, disheveled from their…escapade, hands nervously fidgeting with her dress, moonlight radiating off her skin, he felt that familiar heartache he’d been carrying around the last six months bloom in his chest. Hells below, he’d missed her, even after all the venomous words and hurled spells.

Her eyes were much softer than they had been earlier this evening. Plus, she’d actually apologized for her tone. Apologized.

He saw a door being cracked ever so slightly open, and gods be damned if he wasn’t going to push through it.

“But I don’t want to believe that,” he continued, voice solemn and quiet. “We’ve done some pretty impossible things together. Surely there’s some kind of progress to be made.”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as tears welled in her eyes. Damn it all to the hells and back, she did not want to cry. It could be the wine, the adrenaline crash from the mind-shattering rage orgasm, the long-lost gentle touch in the stroking of his thumb against her hand afterwards…or his words just now that betrayed hope in his softened voice. His stupid, comforting voice from his stupid, handsome face looking at her with stupid, soulful eyes that bore a hole in her soul once again.

It was her turn to examine her own shoes now, crossing her arms while sniffling sharply, tensing her jaw and trying to will back the emotions from escaping.

‘Fuck it,’ she thought, meeting his gaze and steeling her resolve.

“I don’t think I can talk about this in-person yet. I don’t think either of us can. But we clearly have unresolved shit to deal with.”

‘It’s a start,’ Gale thought to himself.

He took a slow, deep breath and said, “How about we exchange letters for a while. Take time to properly get our thoughts out without fueling each other’s tempers. Give us time to process and think out our responses.”

She huffed a brief laugh through her nose. “What, communicate like actual functioning, mentally healthy human beings?” They both half-smiled and looked back towards the ground, thankful for the slight emotional reprieve. She continued, “We clearly seem to bring out the worst in each other, don’t we?”

“That we do,” he replied before looking back up. “But there was a time that we’d also brought out the best in each other, once. I refuse to believe we can’t find our way back there again. Someday.” Much to his displeasure, his voice cracked a bit during the last part.

Tav’s breath caught as a few beats of silence went by, her lip quivering. She wanted to run at him and hug his neck and cry until the sun came up. She felt hope for the first time since that dreadful night with Mizora that they could act like reasonable people with each other again, if nothing else. ‘Someday.’ But she figured she’d better quit while they were at least on neutral ground.

“Alright,” she said quietly. She finally looked back up, trying to appear more confident. “I don’t know where to begin, but since I started all this, I’ll go first. Expect a letter in the next week.”

He pressed his lips in a line and nodded his head curtly, if nothing else but to keep himself from rushing forward and crashing their lips together again. He could tell that this was equally difficult for her and wanted nothing more in that moment than to comfort and be comforted by her. But that would have to wait. He didn’t want to push her away.

“Alright. I’ll make sure to respond within the week after.”

“Alright,” she replied.

“Okay,” he said.

After a couple of seconds of silent gazing. She turned on her heel and walked towards her portal home. Before she stepped through, she paused, looked over her shoulder, and said, “Goodnight, Gale.”

Bowing his head slightly, he answered, “Goodnight, Tav.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was pouring rain in Baldur’s Gate when Tav returned.

‘How fucking appropriate.’

As she walked up the steps to her front door, her hands trembling as she brought the key to the lock. She knew what waited inside, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face it yet. Hesitating with her hand on the knob, she closed her eyes, swallowed thickly, and took a deep, shaky breath.

‘Come on, Tav. You’ve walked into rooms filled with goblins, tadpoled drow, mindflayers, and torture devices before. Get a grip.’

As she swung the door open, she was hit with a wall of smells: stale alcohol, dust, even rotten food. Lip quivering and feet unsteady, she leaned on her door frame looking inside. Books littered the floor in a pile on one end of the room, having been shoved off the shelves in anger a month ago. How dare they smell like his tent. His tent that had contained the tomes of every adventure’s loot pile, begging to be scoured for information that would nudge them closer to a victory. The tent where she’d lain every night for months, her head on his chest, breathing in the smell of him and the pages and letting the sound of his heartbeat lull her to sleep.  

Down the wall from the traitorous book pile was a waste bin filled with dirt and burned scraps of fabric. The charred remains of her camp clothing. That cloth had the audacity of smelling like him too, even after they had started sleeping as far away from each other as possible in the remaining weeks after “The Fight.” She couldn’t explain why, but she’d held on to them in the bottom of her wardrobe when she unpacked. Something inside of her wouldn’t let her get rid of them.

That is, until after she’d returned from Waterdeep with her heart re-broken. The first thing she did when she got home was rip those clothes from the drawer, toss them in the bin, pour oil on them, and light a match. It wasn’t her brightest moment, though the flames that started to lick up the wall sure were. After taking an entire sack of dirt from her garden and quickly dumping it over the fire, she didn’t have the energy or motivation to clean it up.  

Wine bottles littered the tables and the floor throughout the rest of the room, some broken and remnants spilled. Down the hall in the kitchen, some plates were left on the counter with remains of meals barely eaten, days old at this point.

Never would she have admitted to anyone at the party that her home, her life, had been reduced to a disheveled mess of depression and filth. It took everything she had within her to get dolled up for tonight’s gathering, to the end that she was over an hour late. It’s why the first words out of her mouth were a dig at Gale: she was overcompensating.

She made her way over to her living room sofa, collapsing into a pile of tears and rain-soaked hair,Gale’s seed still coating the inside of her thighs. Every emotion washed over her as heavy as the rain outside her windows: guilt, anger, hope, relief, uncertainty, disappointment in herself for being so weak… Kicking off her shoes where she lay, Tav buried her face in the pillow, and cried.

One night. She would give herself one more night to wallow in her self-pity and heartache. First thing in the morning, she’d clean up the house. She would take a shower. She would feed herself.

And she’d write that damned letter. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Meanwhile, Gale popped back into his library in Waterdeep, walking past the dusty shelves, the stacks of papers to grade, the pile of crumpled up letters in the trash – the letters he’d started writing dozens of times over to her. Some were pleading for forgiveness at how harshly he’d reacted to her betrayal, not even giving her a chance to speak. Some were filled with more digs and rage, wanting to make it perfectly clear that he would not be speaking with her from this day forward, including at the party. Others were just random lines of free thought, like how much he missed her and how she inhabited his dreams. He walked past those discarded thoughts and headed straight for the balcony, opening the double doors to the salty sea air and falling back on his favorite bench.

Blowing a huff of air out from his bottom lip to push away some of the stray hairs away from his eyes, he thought, ‘Well, now you’ve done it, genius. You let your guard down, lost all self-control, and allowed her to walk her pretty little high heels right over your heart again, didn’t you?’

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his temples like that would erase the memories from the previous hour.

‘Can’t rightly blame her completely though, I suppose. Not like I can say I just so happened to trip and landed with my dick in between her thighs, can I?’

Leaning back again, he let his head fall against the outer wall, arms crossed, looking up at the stars.

A few moments of silence went by before he heard, “You’re brooding again, Mr. Dekarios.” Tara had landed on the other end of the terrace without him even noticing, which already told her he was miles away.

“I do not brood, Tara. I’m reflecting,” he replied, still looking up, a slight pout in his voice.

“Brooding, reflecting, contemplating… Call it what you’d like, but I get the impression the night took an even worse turn after my departure.” Tara hopped up on the table across from him, settling in to pick at her claws with her teeth, dinner having recently been acquired on a neighboring rooftop.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say it was for the worse. It’s yet to be seen if it will be for the better, however,” he replied, sitting up straighter and picking at his own fingernails. He didn’t want to look her in the eye. He already knew what was coming.

“…Well? I’m listening…” Tara drawled, still busying herself with her claws.

There was another several beats of silence before he mumbled, “We had sex again.”

Still attentive to her claws, she said, “I’m sorry, dear, I couldn’t quite hear you. Enunciate your words, for goodness’ sake.”

He gave an exasperated sigh before practically shouting, “I made love to her across the top of the picnic table, Tara, is that what you wanted to hear? That I don’t have an ounce left of self-control and I let her completely bewitch my body and soul again? Are you happy to hear that?”

Tara had abruptly stopped cleaning her claws and stared at him unblinking. “MIS-ter Dekarios, I am SHOCKED. Can you REALLY still be so reckless. Why if your mother only knew—”

“Morena will NOT hear a SINGLE. WORD. about this, Tara, do I make myself clear?” Gale was actually shouting this time.

“How dare you raise your voice to me, why I should—” she started to lecture back at him before being interrupted again.

“Not. One. Word, Tara.” he said, voice quieter but still firm. “I am very well aware of just how much of a fool I made of myself this evening, but I managed to keep my prior relationship with Tav from Morena in the first place, including its tumultuous downfall, and I’ll not have you spilling this particular batch of tea to her, if you don’t mind.”

“Hmph,” she huffed as she put her paw down and looked away.

Gale got up and walked over to a chair at the table, sitting directly in front of her averted gaze. “Listen, Tara, I apologize for shouting, but I need you to understand something. The woman I loved, the woman who saved me from myself, from Mystra, the woman who still carries the broken pieces of my heart… She’s still in there, Tara. I saw it in her eyes. I heard it in her voice by the time we parted ways this evening.”

Tara looked back at him narrow-eyed and said, “I’m still listening.”

He took a deep breath and continued, “You know as well as I do that I haven’t been able to forget her. I’ve tried my damndest. Thrown myself into my job, tried going out to the pub for social time, graded papers and researched cures for vampirism until my eyes practically bled… But she won’t leave my heart. If there is one iota of a chance to stay in each others’ lives, to work at repairing the damage that’s been done, I can’t walk away from it again.”

Tara sat up straight and looked down her nose at the pleading wizard. “Well I certainly hope she’s not coming here any time soon. One night of indiscretion at the hands of a devil is one thing, but after all the horrible things she said to you, I don’t know if I can be so forgiving.”

Gale sat up to meet her disapproving gaze. “I’ll remind you, Tara, that I said quite the list of unpleasant things to her as well. I am not blameless in this scenario. And she won’t be coming here any time soon, for what it’s worth. We’ve agreed to write back and forth for a while, so that we may converse in a much more amiable manner.”

“Hm,” she almost snorted. “Well, I supposed that poses less of a risk of splintered tables and shredded curtains at the very least.”

“Tara…” he started scolding.

“Alright, alright, don’t get your robes in a twist. I’ll behave as long as she does. But I promise you, Mr. Dekarios, if I need to spend another several months reminding you to clean the tower, feed yourself, and pull yourself out of bed to go to the Academy, I will go straight to your mother for assistance this time.”

He didn’t want to argue. Tara had a right to be concerned, and he was honestly surprised that she’d conceded this easily to the idea of possible reconciliation with Tav in the first place.

“You won’t have to, I promise. Tomorrow, this tower will be in tip-top shape and nary a fleck of dust will grace these shelves again under my diligent cleaning rituals,” he replied, standing now, but bowing theatrically in her direction.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she retorted as she spread her wings and flew off.

His gaze followed her across the rooftops by the shore as he thought to himself, ‘These women really are going to be the death of me yet.’

[sky-kiss]

Jaheira x Tav: Injury

A/N: @flamemittens was kind enough to prompt me. Jaheira and Sol, one is injured, and the other is reacting to it. So, as I wait for events in BG2 to happen, have something inspired/informed by a moment in her BG2 romance track.

Jaheira x Solaen: Like, honestly, he'd probably kill himself if she asked. He thinks that perfectly justified. It infuriates her.

The arrow barely pierces his armor. Solaen thinks nothing of it—why should he not move in front of the blow? What self-respecting male would not act in favor of their Ilharess? There is some blood, yes, and he may yet bruise, but the wound is such a little thing to trade for her safety.

It is no small shock when she rounds on him with the grace and fury of a displacer beast, claws out, hackles raised. "What were you thinking? No. Do not answer—you clearly were not. It is the only excuse for this…reckless idiocy."

"Ilharess…"

"Do not." Jaheira steps in close as if to intimidate him with her proximity. Some of the flippancy has bled from her posture—her gestures remain excessive and dramatic but held more tightly to her chest as if to guard herself. Her accent is thicker when she speaks, and he sees some of the violence of her youth still woven into her being. "What if the arrow had struck higher? The head? The throat? What then, idiot boy? Did you consider this, eh?" 

He stares at her, nakedly puzzled. "No."

Jaheira scoffs, making that displeased sound, guttural and half caught in her throat. "Aye, I suppose I should make allowances—say  that your honesty soothes some of the sting of this…stupidity." She jabs a finger at his chest. "Do not let it happen again." 

Solaen snatches her wrist. "I defer to you in many things, Harper, but do not presume to order me—I am not one of your cubs." No fear bleeds across her face, only fresh rage—calling to something equally ugly in him. 

"You are not. They know I am no wilting flower in need of tending." 

"You are no flower," he concedes. "Ilharess, you are entirely capable. This was never in doubt." 

"And yet, you interceded." 

"It would have been…" the drow sighs, releasing her wrist. The words taste too soft, a little like poison on Solaen's tongue—in the Underdark, they would have been more damning than any such substance. "The thought of you coming to harm…" he cleared his throat. "I would not—will not— permit it. Accept that."

"Accept that," she waves him off. "And now you think to give me orders." 

"In this alone." Solaen sighs. In private, he will permit himself to touch the curve of her waist rather than her bicep. It is a weakness, but one they have agreed upon. "You are…something precious." 

"Ugh." But she leans into him, expression softening. Her touch strays to the wound—barely an injury. He feels her magic wash over him, unlike Minthara or Shadowheart's. It is the coolness of a mountain stream, clean and clear.

He snickers, dipping his head to nip at her cheek. Ah, she is aged, yes, but there is a hint of color in her cheek. He chases it, his voice low. "Worthy of protection." 

Jaheira snickers, patting his cheek with perhaps a touch too much force. "Perhaps we should have the cleric inspect you—you seem to have suffered a concussion when I was not looking." The half-elf sighs, pressing her forehead to his chest briefly before stepping away. "Come. I have played the fool and vented my anger on you…let us move on, lest this old woman find more ways to shame herself." 

[animentality]

Did they get a postive response from adding those Gortash lines? I thought a bunch of people hateing on it instead? Also what if they removed the lines to change them a go a diffrent direction. I'm sorry. I have a lot of worry they wont do something I agee with.

The overwhelming reaction was positive. Durgetash artists went on Twitter to celebrate, and the small but passionate fans of the ship went nuclear here and on Twitter, and helped BG3 trend, yada yada, tale as old as time.

Most people don't care about Durgetash or Gortash. The majority of people you hear from would be the people who like both of those things. It's also a small ship.

The haters of that ship are even smaller in comparison, because the hand that reaches out will always touch more than the hand clenched into a fist.

And the only "legitimate" complainers, who don't just dislike the ship on principle, are the whiners who keep insisting their durges are lesbians, and how dare Larian "force" them into a relationship with a man - which is literally not what Larian did.

No one bitches about how Gale's ORIGIN completely precludes him from being gay.

I see no reason why you can't similarly have Durge's ORIGIN make them attracted to men. Or, you know. Enver is special.

Oh. And also. It's so fucking platonic, if you want it to be. Stop being stupid and just say you don't like Durgetash. It's as easy as that.

Stop using "lesbophobic" as a handy label for your self righteous soapbox. You just don't like the ship, and that's fine. It's FINE. But acting like Durgetash is lesbophobic - oh, go play a Tav.

And also, Astarion and Gale and Wyll better not flirt with you in game, even though you can tell them to fuck off, or else they're lesbophobic too.

That's the only discourse that gained traction on Twitter. As far as I know.

If Larian had made Gale wear blackface or something, and people got pissed, then yeah. They'd back up on that, and get rid of it pronto.

But Durgetash???

Aside from the general evil antics, they're not that fucking controversial of a ship.

Most people don't even PLAY the Dark Urge.

I don't know how to stress this any other way...

People act like Durgetashers are loud - we're honestly not that loud.

Astarion fans are far louder, and yet, the most romanced companion is SHADOWHEART and then Laezel and KARLACH.

He's not even in the top 3. And yet, he dominates the content on Twitter and Tumblr... he's definitely more popular than Gortash or the Dark Urge or Durgetash together...but his fans are still technically the damn minority.

So Durgetash in comparison to Starries???

Infinitesimal.

And Durgetash haters?

Would be even smaller.

So what I'm saying is...

I'm kind of tired of answering asks about this.

I don't KNOW for certain whether or not this is Larian backing up or walking forward, and while I don't believe they'd walk back on this, and especially not for a handful of people, it kind of annoys me to even think about things outside of my control.

now if Larian makes a big grand statement and says actually we totally rescind something WE WROTE AND ADDED TO THE GAME because some people got mad...then I'll call them cucks, and complain.

But as of right now?

As far as I know personally, and assume in my heart... it's neutral.

The lines are probably just bugged. Also, not ALL of them are bugged either, so.

Please stop freaking out, guys.

I am the world's biggest resident durgetash freak, and I'm shrugging at this, and just saying it's a bug.

Don't let it bother you. It's out of your control, regardless.

(And I stress again - if we find out they're legitimately backing away from something they did...they have the spine of a ham sandwich. But until we know that for sure, I won't condemn them for this, because as far as we know, it is legitimately an accident.)

[scribblingplace]

Bite Night Part 1 - Baldur's Gate 3 Fic

Dirk spends too much time as a prey animal not to know when a predator is approaching. Finally wrote out a dramatized bit about how Astarion attempting to Bite my Tav would go, mostly it's just awkward.

Dirk spends too much time as a prey animal not to know when a predator is approaching.

Some rustle, some shift in the air, it's all it takes to have Dirk's eyes shooting open and she's scrambling back and away before she can even process who or what is looming over her.  The air around her is buzzing with necrotic magic and the smell of rot.

It's a good thing Astarion is already scrambling backwards himself, cursing under his breath.

“It's not what it looks like,” he starts when there's enough space between them that inhaling won't have him choking on necrotizing spores.

She's reaching for the dagger tucked into her boot, over all this could be going a lot better.

“It looks like you were about to bite me.” 

“Alright then, it is what it looks like, but I wasn't going to hurt you.  I just needed, well, blood.”  

“Biting usually hurts.”  Dirk answers flatly. 

She's not sure why she needs to point out the obvious like this.  But she's very hung up on the idea of someone putting their teeth in her neck and she is in no way willing to move on to the next- hold on.  Blood?

Dirk gives him a once over.  Pointy teeth, red eyes, fop, bloodless boar corpse. His complete inability to shut up about vampires.

It's the only logical conclusion to reach here.  Of course it is, but-

“How can you walk in the sun?”

“What?”

“You are a vampire right, this isn't- some kind of other thing.”  

“Vampire Spawn, technically,” as if it really makes much of a difference at the moment. 

“So how are you in the sun.”  She thinks it's a good and deeply relevant question, she's not letting it drop.  

“Honestly I have no idea, I've been chalking it up to our little worm friends and leaving it at that.”

Okay, that makes sense, or at least as much as anything recently makes sense to Dirk.  

She takes a deep breath, chewing on her lip as she does and watching him as carefully as he's watching her.  Trying to figure out what to do here, staring down an apex predator that has made it very clear he considers her on the menu.

At least she's figured out why he reminds her of a cat.

Dirk opens her mouth to say, well, something, and then a whole lot comes out.

“Did you think I wouldn't wake up if you bit me?”  After her moment of consideration it's the next most pressing question, because honestly, is he stupid?  

“You aren't a mosquito, I'd notice your teeth in my neck!  What was the plan here.”   

“I'm hungry!”  It's the simplest, quickest answer,  and he is, starving really. And finally in the position to eat something satisfying.

It's an enormous feat of restraint not to continue snapping at the scrawny druid in front of him.  But that, tempting as it is, won't get him what he wants.

He can still salvage this. 

“Normally I feed from animals, boar, deer, kobolds-”  

“Kobolds aren't animals, they talk.”  

He's going to tear her throat out.

“Yes, well you talk to rats.”  He settles for being dismissive and hoping she'll let this drop.

“But kobolds talk,” she repeats, “out loud, they use tools.”  

Of course she doesn't.  

Of all the things he thought he'd be doing when he snuck up on her in her bedroll, he was prepared for stakes, and violence, and threats, not debating the personhood of kobolds.  

Hard to say if this is an improvement on what he'd feared.  Maybe a lateral move. 

“Whatever!” Astarion snaps, ending this entire stupid tangent. 

And Dirk flinches a little still on high alert. She knows it's pedantic to pick apart everything he says right now.

But it's two am.  And she's tired.  And he wanted to bite her.  

He cringe inwardly at her flinch, at the ways she pulls back, the dim flicker of magic over claws.

Back to playing nice, or stalling for time, or whatever he's actually doing at this point.

“Look, I’m not some monster! But animals aren’t enough.  Not if I want to fight.  I’m just too slow right now.”  There it is, a little crack of sympathy on Dirk's face.  She's so soft sometimes.  

Not that he's proud to play on that obvious weak point, like he's a stray dog, or one of those mewling tiefling brats.

Still.  Needs must.  He's done worse.  

“Too weak.”  

This is pathetic, he's going to put himself off the concept of eating if he has to try and tug on her heartstrings anymore.

And it's hard to tell if it's working, he watches the druid's shoulders untense a little, her clawed fingers drumming along the hilt of her knife as she tries to decide what to do with this information.  “If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer.”  

If pity doesn’t work, then perhaps the promise of a better ally will.  

“Fight better.”

She is agonizingly quiet.  Still coiled to spring, that horrible fungus crawling all over her as she chews on her lip and thinks.

She's entitled to a moment to weigh her options.  In her opinion at least.  Because To put it bluntly, she doesn't trust him at all. He can look as sad as he damn well pleases, but he’s still an apex predator. 

Really, the smartest, safest option, is to ram a stake through his ribs.  Since he doesn't have any qualms threatening her neck.

But he is useful.  Handy with a knife, and a lock pick, and quicker in fight than most of them.  It was a smart choice to play on that.  They need whatever advantages they can get.

And she's worked with more insufferable liabilities. 

There’s a wriggle behind her eye, a tremor, between the two of them.  She’s felt it before, Astarion’s mind on the other end of that line, it would be so easy.

And they do need every advantage they can get.  She pushes on the link, something instinctive in the action, something clawing in her brain, she hates every minute it.  But she’s used to it.  

He freezes, shudders as she forces the connection, “What’s this, what’s happening?” She can feel just a moment’s resistance as he speaks, an attempt to raise his guard and then his mind falls open.  She’s getting very good at this kind of thing.  Or maybe he just thinks it’s safest to play along.

Not that she gets anything useful out of it.  What she wants is a clear sense of his intentions here.  

What she gets is a couple minutes of absolute misery, and fear and a mouthful of fur and blood.  She stops short of spitting the blood out, remembering it’s not her memory.  “You only drink animal blood because you have to! Not because you wanted to.”  

“I-yes.  Yes. I ate whatever disgusting vermin my master picked.  You can see now why I’m slow to trust you.  But I do trust you-” he doesn’t, not really, but what choice does he have have- “and you can trust m-” “No I can’t.  You were going to bite me.  In my sleep.”

“We don’t have a choice.”  He can’t deny that she’s correct, but so is he, best to refocus things on their larger shared problem.  “Not if we want to save ourselves from these worms.  I need you alive, and you need me strong.”  

She’s making the thinking face again.  At this point Dirk has chewed a hole straight through her lower lip and he can smell the blood.  He’s being a saint right now, the amount of restraint he’s showing.  But he lets Dirk have her moment to think.  Her claws flexing.  “Okay.”  What an absolutely infuriatingly neutral statement.  What is he supposed to do with ‘okay.’?  He tries a tentative step forward, sees Dirk tense again and gives up that approach immediately.  

“Please, it’ll only be a taste, I swear,” he tries, attempting to sound casual.  “I’ll be well, you’ll be fine, and everything can go back to normal.”  “No!”  She snaps.  Taking a quick step back, the air Around her churning again.

He can't actually expect her to do that! She doesn't even really think before speaking. 

“Of course, silly of me to even ask,” he says, deflating as he speaks, at least the topic is being dropped, Dirk lets out a breath, managing to relax, just a moment.

“I’ll go find something on four legs to eat.  See you in the morning then.”  The look on his face before he turns to go is so…sad.  She feels like she's stepping on a small animal, or just told someone their dad is dead.

Dirk groans, already regretting what she’s about to do.  He's already stalking away.

 “No.  Wait!”  She buries her face in her hands, lets out another frustrated sound.  “It’s- fine whatever- I have lots of blood!”  Astarion stops, turning to stare at her.

“Really?” Surprise, confusion, a tentative flicker of hope.  “I- I won’t take a drop more than I need.”  “Lets uh, get comfortable shall we?”  He’s still a bit stunned as he gestures to her bedroll. Dirk drops into a sitting position sticking her arm out for him, rolling her sleeve up and trying to rub away some of the fungus that is building on her skin.

He takes a seat beside her.  “I’d thought-” 

“My important veins are in my neck.  You get the wrist.”  

“I suppose beggars can’t be choosers,” he won’t push, it’s astonishing she’s giving him this much.  He takes her wrist carefully, finding a relatively clean spot as he does.

He looks up briefly, watching Dirk stare at him, bracing herself like she’s about to have a tooth pulled, digging her claws into the dirt.  This isn’t at all what he expected.  It’s supposed to be more…grandiose?  It’s supposed to be something.  Not just crouching in the dirt with someone he wouldn't even have considered bringing back to Cazador on his most desperate nights.

But he can smell her bleeding lip and feel her pulse racing under his thumb, and thinking about anything ceases to be a priority.  He buries his teeth in her arm.

All misgivings fall away at the first drop of blood on his tongue. It doesn't taste all that different from the rats he’s used too, but gods, there’s such life in it, he can taste the vitality, feel it seeping into him.

Something smacks him in the side of the head.

“Oi! That's enough!”  

“Huh?” Astarion's voice is muffled by the fact that his teeth are still lodged in Dirk's wrist.  

“I said that's enough, don't make me hit harder!”  

She's trying to tug her arm back and he releases her, straightening up, a little stunned.

“Ah! That- that was amazing!” He can feel himself grinning, his eyes flicking back to the puncture wounds. It wasn’t nearly enough.  But still.  He could run a marathon, everything is brighter, clearer, is this what things are supposed to be like?

“My mind is finally clear, I feel strong, I feel happy!”  “Good for you, I feel like shit.”  She grumbles, mumbling a healing spell as she rubs her wrist, the puncture wounds scabbing over at alarming speed.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” if only because her griping is doing a lot to kill his fantastic mood.

“This was just a little transaction between friends.”  He tries, back to his usual flippant tone.  Even if he's still thinking about all that blood in her.

Really, he barely took any.

“And look what you’ve gained, together we can take on the world!” Well, he could, he's not sure about Dirk. 

“Now, as invigorating as you were, I'm off to find something a little more, filling.”  He says, not quite keeping the smile off his face.

“Good idea,” Dirk says, giving him a little nod, still clutching at her wrist, it doesn't hurt, more nervous habit, she's already scratching at the fresh scab.  He's got blood on his face and she can't tell if she should point it out.  Like it's tomato sauce or jam instead of her blood.

Honestly she has a lot of follow up questions, but he seems just a little dazed.  And if he's still hungry, best to let him handle that far from her.

“Have fun?”  Is that the appropriate thing to say here?  He's leaving anyway, but he pauses, briefly to look over his shoulder at her.

“Oh, I'm sure I will,”  Astarion says, he turns to leave, ready to stalk and kill, and maybe do A backflip if he feels like it.

He pauses for just a moment.  Turning back to look at Dirk before he disappears into the woods.  

“This is a gift you know.  I won't forget it.”  

[noblesandsstories]

Pale Pastels: A Crypt to Creep In

Astarion x Original Fem!Tav

->Hijinks ensue, mentions of traps, violence against skeletons, Fleur stabs herself (she's doing her best guys), Astarion's only been here a few minutes and he's fed up, oh hey there's plot guys! (At least in spirit)

Border by: @adornedwithlight

AN: Calliope herself spoke through me, this had around 200 words when I started and this baby is at around 1,600. Hope y'all enjoy, starting to set up pieces of Fleur's stat block and a bit of her and Astarion's dynamic. Oh and I've never really wrote combat before, hope it wasn't too much of a pain to read. Bon appetite.

Update: Did a bit of polish so everything would flow better!

The temple was a great idea, decent loot, especially looting the bandits camp after Fleur sprinted up to them, frantically going on and on about mindflayers eating people. They didn’t stick around long after that, and it took the trio left hiding in the bushes a lot to not burst out into laughter at her performance of a scared woman who witnessed untold horrors.

Overall, a rather good experience.

The group had found a book that had some kind of magical seal on it. Gale was fascinated with it, trying to break the spell desperately. Shadowheart seemed amused while watching him. Astarion couldn’t care less.

We could be here a while, he thought. He slipped out of the room, hoping to find some kind of loot, or at least something to pick at while he was bored.

What he did find was a room full of tombs, that was practically covered in traps.

Must be something very worthwhile here, better get to work. The elf pulled out his tools and carefully stepped over to the closest sarcophagus and began picking at the lock. Just as he opened it, he turned his head to check over the room…

Just in time to see Fleur about to step on a pressure plate.

“DON’T.”

She froze, looking at him with wide eyes, foot suspended in the air.

“Can’t you see there’s traps everywhere?” He hissed.

To her credit, she did look like she was carefully observing when she double checked the room, but when she turned back to him, her face held a sheepish smile.

“No?” she said apologetically.

Astarion sighed. “Why are you even in here?”

“Same as you I recon. Watching Gale try to open a book that doesn’t want to be opened is extremely boring. Figured you’d at least be entertaining to stand next to.”

Astarion really didn’t want the company. But he knew he needed to start playing his cards carefully, lest he end up in dire straits. For now, playing nice with the candy-colored bard would probably be a benefit.

“Fine but take a step back and let me guide you over. There’s not many floor traps, but I can bet that they’re all synced up to one another.”

She dutifully obeyed, and he made his way over carefully.

“Ok, now watch my feet.” He over dramatized his steps, going slowly, and one by one, but in the interest of not learning what these traps do, he’d greatly look as foolish as he’d need to. Fleur diligently followed his movements, eyes analyzing every slight angle, until he was certain she was far enough from the main plates to do much harm.

“Now, sit tight and don’t do something stupid, darling,” he drawled in his usual flirty tone.

Fleur just gave a bright smile, “Only if you do the same.”

Astarion flashed her a smile before turning back to the sarcophagus, finally getting to poke his head in. A few pieces of gold. Better than nothing. He moved on to the next one, hearing light footsteps following him.

Time passed as they made their way through the room, coffin by coffin, even found a chest with some basic loot. Astarion dutifully working on the locks, Fleur quietly observing. Honestly, he found it rather nice.

Until Gale and Shadowheart walked in.

“We figured the book out!” Gale exclaimed. Astarion thought he looked like a dog trying to impress its master, poor bastard.

“Don’t walk in!” Fleur called out. “This place is trapped up.”

Shadowheart just cocked her head. “Yes, it’s obvious there would be some traps in here. Thanks for the warning.”

Fleur only looked a little bashful when she replied, “We’re almost done here. Go on and we’ll catch up!”

The two moved on and Astarion quickly picked the last lock. He fished out the last of the loot (a few pieces of gold and a healing potion) and stood.

“Now to get you and I out of this room safely, my dear,” he crooned.

“Do you mind if I do something first? Promise won’t be too bad,” she asked.

“Of course, as long as you don’t stab me,” he gave a careless laugh.

She stepped up and straightened his collar, fidgeting with it for a second, before giving a nod.

“That should work for now. At least you can pretend like it’s a weirdly placed mole.”

If Astarion’s heart could stop, it would have then.

She knew she knew she knew she-

“We do need to find a higher collar if we don’t want someone stabbing before asking,” she looked up to him with a beaming smile. “Now let’s get going. Don’t want them thinking we’re going to elope. You might have to show the way out though. I still don’t see those traps.”

She didn’t care. Or she was behaving like she didn’t care.

And it quickly left his line of concerns when he noticed Fleur almost step on a trap, again.

“WAIT-”

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

The group came across a giant room with a giant statue, Shadowheart explained it being a scribe god of some kind, Astarion really couldn’t care less. He was busy following Fleur’s eyes.

Eyes that couldn’t see a pressure plate that was quite literally under her nose but could catch bite marks on his neck. Eyes that shone a rather beautiful shade of blue. Actually, now that he looked at it, something was off about her eyes.

“Hey, what do you think this button does?” Fleur asked, turning to Astarion.

“Opening the door next to it, I assume,” he responded.

“Then why the button,” she mused. “Why not just have the door, like everywhere else.” She paused for a moment, then turned back to the other two, “Move closer for a bit. I’m going to push this, and I’d rather have heads where I can see them.”

Astarion snickered, “Sounds like you’re talking to children.”

Fleur sent him a weak smile, “Brace yourselves.”

She pushed the button, and as predicted, the door opened.

“Oh shit,” Fleur whispered.

What wasn’t expected was the skeletons strewn about the room to getting up, grabbing their weapons beside them.

Astarion didn’t hesitate, shooting forward. He knocked an arrow and shot one on the ledge above them dead on, just before a slew of spells slung their way, a firebolt hitting Shadowheart and a ray of frost nicking him.

“Even alive, you must have smelled like something rotten.” Fleur’s vicious mockery hit the same skeleton he did, resulting in it falling to pieces.  

Another skeleton ran forwards, getting a good hit on Shadowheart. She hit it back, adding an extra shove with the shield as Gale cast firebolt, sending flames to one of the skeletons further back in the room. The skeleton furthest back began casting before everything went quiet. Making Astarion realize he was standing between 3 casters.

He ran around the group, aiming at the one holding up the spell, and launched an arrow. The fucker didn’t fall, and the spell stayed strong. Shit.

Another lobby of spells came their way from the other two skeletons, hitting Gale and Fleur this time.

Fleur ran up next to the skeleton in front of them and raising up a dagger…

Bringing it down with the worst form he’d ever seen, not just missing the skeleton by a wide berth, but cutting herself in the process.

Astarion felt like he was going to go into shock.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes, swinging the mace again, successfully hitting it.

Someone had to, he bitterly thought as he sprinted out of the radius of the spell, releasing another arrow, hitting the skeleton that was holding up the spell. This time the creature fell, and he wasted no time turning around to look at Fleur with a sneer.

“Ready to be useful again?”

If looks could kill, Astarion would be dead again from the glare Fleur sent him, but she said nothing, instead braced herself for the ice spell sent her way. Another spell was slung to him, but he managed to easily dodge it. Shadowheart sent some kind of holy spell to one of the skeletons, downing it instantly. Gale casted another firebolt to the other one, which Astarion finished off with an arrow.

There was a beat of silence, as if they were all waiting for something else to pop up.

Astarion turned over to Fleur. “What’s the point in having a dagger if you don’t know how to use it?”

“Listen, Mr. Snark, not everyone is built for combat,” she huffed, moving to put her blade away. ���Just be glad it wasn’t worse.”

Astarion had never really noticed the pouch at her hip. It folded open revealing a set of beautiful looking daggers. Most of them looked like smaller throwing daggers, and they were well maintained. At the top was what looked to be a space where two larger, more close combat designed daggers, would sit.

Curiously, there was only one there.

[trulycertain]

Raspberries

This actually takes place sometime after the Underdark. Don't even ask how weird my playthrough order was. Tav/Astarion, about 700 words.

They're a quarter-mile out from the monastery when the call goes up. "Raspberries!" Karlach says, and barrels towards the unsuspecting bush.

Lora lands more in a rapid saunter. She'd like to say she keeps her dignity intact, but by the end, she and Karlach are both red-fingered - more than usual, in Karlach's case - with any of the paint Lora put on her lips this morning long gone, the two of them giggling about flambéd raspberries. ("How do they still taste good after I've got to 'em?" Karlach says, licking heat-exploded fruit off her thumb.) Well, Karlach's giggling. Lora's is more of a cackle. A couple of raspberries quietly pluck themselves from the bush and float through the air to Gale, who gives her a wry, you-caught-me look as he bites into his finds. And Astarion... she expected complaint, and there is a mutter of "I refuse. A passing Death Shepherd might see us," but he seems too glad of a rest to get into full flow. He leans against the trunk of a tree, watching, in a way that invites trite panther metaphors.

Lora's the last to leave, relieved for a moment of quiet, easy joy. Karlach can seem to keep on going forever, can seem to find the hope in anything - might be the engine, but more likely it's just how she is - and Gale is often wry, as relaxed as Lora is but in that way where you're hiding pain. She knows it too well. After a day avoiding traps and lying with her life on the line, something little and stupid and joyous like raspberries might just, for a second, have been the answer to her prayers.

And there's a vampire loitering next to her, a brow raised in a way that's not his usual idle I'm above all this and could be at home enjoying a nice glass of vintage blood, I mean wine. Amusement is creeping in round the edges, the genuine kind rather than the teeth-bared one he so often resorts to. The little creases around his eyes are appearing - the ones that almost make him look like less of an insufferable toff.

"What?" Lora says, and then realises. "Shit. I've missed some, haven't I?" She raises a vague hand to her face, probably without much luck.

"You almost look like one of mine." But there's no sharp edge or hidden dagger in it, just amused... she'd almost call it fondness, if they weren't them. Perhaps a little melancholy mixed in, somewhere deep.

And then there's a pale, half-gloved hand under her chin, tilting her face gently down to him. Astarion's thumb strokes at the corner of her mouth, runs over her lower lip - a moment, soft as a feather, his eyes lingering on her mouth just a little longer than necessary. Her breath catches, stupidly; at that his eyes flick to hers, and a smile tugs at his lips. With the arrogant victory of their first bad decision, and their second, a predatory flash - but she swears for a second there's something... gentler. Truer, maybe, though she's not sure if he does that. And the arrogance is all him, too. But this... It's the thing she sees when he saves her from a dagger in the back, just for the barest moment, or when she lays down to sleep close to him by the fire and there's his confused half-second's hesitation at such ignorant trust. It makes him, somehow, for a half-breath under a shadowed oak tree, handsomer than she's ever seen him.

...Probably just Lora trying to give him more credit than he's due. He'd say as much. She's always had a good imagination.

"There," Astarion says airily, and rubs dark pink between his fingers. He makes a vague gesture to her mouth. "Though I assume you know - whatever paint you wear fled at the beginning of your little diversion."

Just over the rise, Karlach is guffawing, and Gale is saying, "No, I did not mean that Netherese wizards set their trousers aflame, though honestly, that whole regrettable chapter of history might have been much shorter if they had."

"Oh, damn," Lora says, and wipes at her mouth absentmindedly. "Come on."

Just like that, whatever softness was in him is gone, shut behind that idle-toff self-assuredness. They jog to join the others, and she tries to look less like they've been doing... something they absolutely haven't been doing. And that would be a terrible idea, anyway. Astarion's smug enough as it is. He probably doesn't even want -

A very fun bad idea. A one-off. Well, two-off. Absolutely.

[jinxxedmisery]

I did a quick little sketch (by quick, I mean it took me like 2 hours lol) I still struggle with feet and shoes...

I just saw a pose on pinterest and thought omg, what if Astarion and my tav... but he's biting their thigh 🤭

Ofc, I had to name it.. thirst... and I added the "Happy" symbol to kind of cover a sketch I did on the same page... You know... it wasn't originally supposed to be just one piece, I was practicing poses and I liked this one way too much to just leave it or risk messing up when I redrew it.

This is entirely self indulgent.. and intended to be Spawn Astarion because he's so babygirl 🥰😘😍

🤣 also I don't think I posted but I got through the Cazador fight not too long ago.. and

Spoilers and dumb ramble ahead:

For most of my day, I sat there wondering how the fuck I would beat that bastard... he was one shotting Shadowheart with his fucking lightning bolt, then sending his gas minions after the survivors. Astarion being in the ritual made it 10× more difficult.. so... I cheated... and fuck... It should have been obvious...

I LITERALLY FORGOT FOR THE ENTIRE FUCKING DAY THAT VAMPIRES ARE WEAK TO SUNLIGHT.. I blame Astarion and his parasite as well as Alucard for that one honestly.. the day walker thing kind of made me forget that omfg immunity to daylight is an exception, not the rule..

So I felt stupid.. once I got that, it was so much easier.. oh and almost constantly had Astarion in stealth kill mode until Cazadick was gone.

Also side note.. the VA for Cazador is perfect.. Like they really sells the "I'm a pathetic little worm, and your worst nightmare, fear me while I bitch and cry" LOL and again that's a compliment.. Larian really succeeded in making an evil character extremely grating and hatable which again, a good thing, not a bad thing.

The heartbreak I felt though afterwards when Astarion screams and cries.. God.. the second I got to this scene, I KNEW I couldn't let him ascend, doing so would be so cruel.. and yes.. this is ascended Astarion slander, I don't like my men too domineering.. maybe a little bit, but not enough to like kill innocent children and eat their hands or some shit lmfao (Doing a durge run too.. where I'm going to ascend Astarion and be a horrible bastard that eats babies) and I don't like that he loses the genuine feelings he has for tav/durge and becomes what he sought to destroy, an abuser.

Now.. the graveyard scene... I had tears in my eyes.. Honestly, the reason I love Astarion so much is because he is quite relatable. I will not go into detail, but I was.. SAed and abused as a kid. And honestly.. Seeing the bit where he scratched out his death date, made me feel hope.. for myself... For my own healing.. it truly meant so much seeing another survivor of abuse begin anew, find themselves again... even though I have done that already myself for the most part, I've found purpose, passions, love, heartbreak, etc and I've found some level of beauty in the life. I related quite a lot to the line about sex feeling tainted.. I am at a point where it no longer feels as terrible, I feel genuine enjoyment in it... (Can't do casual sex though.. That would trigger me into a ptsd attack) And I think part of that was letting myself go at my own pace, making sure my partners knew, and having control and the ability to consent and revoke consent at any point. Emotional attachment helped a great deal too.

I've rambled on enough.. but... Let me end this off by saying, If you went through unspeakable horrors at the hands of those who you thought were supposed to protect you, You are not alone, Even if you do not see it now, there is light at the end of the tunnel, keep on living, keep trying to find joy in little things. It does get better, what was done to you was horrible and you did not deserve it. I promise, you will see better days. You will be happy again, even if you feel like the pain will never end, there is always moments of calm.... live for those... live for your pets, live for your friends, the people around you, live for that cute thing you just ordered, live for that movie or TV series you're excited about watching... even the next patch for bg3.. or more Astarion content if that's your reason right now... and take it one day at a time. You will be okay.

If you need to vent out some shit, I'll listen, I may not know what to say or be able to offer comfort, but I will always lend an ear, even to a total stranger if they need it.

That's all from me, goodbye, until my next post.. whenever that will be ❤🖤❤🖤

[astaribun]

Any body but me

Fandom: BG3

Pairing: Tav x Astarion

Rating: E

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dndfantasygirl]

Little Red Rogue (Chapter 18: Taste of You)

Rating: Mature Word count: 2.2k Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (named)/OC Warnings: violence, strong language, innuendo, starving Astarion, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: Ruby realizes Astarion hasn't fed since they left the Underdark.

*Link to AO3 Post

*Link to Previous Chapter

What am I supposed to do, but sink my teeth in you? I starve without you on my lips, I die without the taste of it What am I supposed to be when you sink your teeth in me? 'Cause I live for the way you move, I'd die without the taste of you

~Taste of You, Rezz (feat. Dove Cameron)

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

His lips are dry. Eyes have deeper circles. To any wandering eye, Astarion looked as if he had a very long night, but that was far from the truth. In reality, he was starving. He hadn't fed since they wandered into these cursed lands. And it finally started to take a toll on his body.

Though it had been a few days since Raphael kept his promise and revealed the meaning behind his scars, the thoughts surrounding it were fresh as if engrained in his mind. He had been so focused on them that it was hard to think about anything else. Cazador planned to sacrifice him and the other spawn to become the most powerful vampire lord that ever existed. If Astarion could take that power somehow, he would be able to protect himself. Protect Ruby...and of course, the others who he won't admit are the closest he has ever had to friends.

He mindlessly followed Ruby up the stairs to their shared room, crimson eyes staring off into space. He didn't notice her at first when she turned to face him with a concerned look. It took the tender caress of her hands on his face to break him out of his thoughts.

The dhampir thumbed his face, analyzing it carefully. Astarion blinked once. Twice. "What are you doing, darling?"

Ruby furrowed her brows as she continued her analysis. "When's the last time you've fed?"

When the vampire spawn didn't respond, she removed her hands from his face as he felt the sudden loss of her lukewarm touch. She crossed her arms and gave him a skeptical look. "Astarion..."

He looked at her blankly, trying to figure out a good counter to diffuse her impending anger.

Then, it was as if she had read his mind. "You haven't fed since the Underdark."

It wasn't a question, but a realization. He could see the frustration building up in her intense gaze. The way she tightened her grip on her arms. He could hear her blood pumping faster and faster. It drove him insane.

"Don't you ever do that again!" the dhampir shouted as tears began to well up in her eyes.

Astarion gazed into her violet orbs, confusion etched into his brows. "I'm quite alright, darling. Truly, there's no need to worry."

Ruby let out a frustrated grunt. "You might be able to fool the others, but not me. Don't forget, I'm half-vampire, too!" She turned her back toward him, hiding the tears that threatened to spill over as she held herself tighter. "I know what happens when you go through that kind of withdrawal. If we were able to find a blood source for me, we can find one for you, too." She shook her head in disbelief. "I'm so stupid. I didn't even-"

A loud sigh escaped Astarion's mouth, drowning out her mumbling as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Then I would be depleting you of yours. Untainted blood is a rare find down here. Honestly, any blood at all is." He approached the dhampir slowly and gently touched her arm as he walked around to face her. "You are our leader, my love. We need you at your best." He moved his hand to her cheek and wiped away a stray tear.

The dhampir shook her head, golden curls following every beat. "But I need you. Astarion, please," she grabbed both of his hands and squeezed them tightly. "Just take a little. You need it."

"But what about you?" the vampire spawn whispered, concern flooding his features.

"I'll be okay," Ruby mouthed back with a wistful smile. Before Astarion could respond, she guided him to their bed and crawled in it, sprawling out on her back and tilting her neck to the side. She watched patiently as the vampire spawn hesitated. "I promise."

Astarion was worried. Her blood was intoxicating, and he was concerned about the feral part of him taking control. The hunger within him was a beast, constantly gnawing at his sanity, threatening to break free. The thought of draining her dry, of the life slipping from her eyes because of his uncontrollable thirst, filled him with dread. He hadn't fed from her since they entered the Underdark and, to be honest, he missed the taste of her—the rich, unique essence that was hers alone.

He cautiously climbed onto the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. Hovering over her, he could hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

The dhampir gave him a reassuring smile, gazing into his crimson orbs. "Hi."

The twitch of his lips couldn't be contained as he returned it, bending down to nuzzle into her neck. "Are you sure about this, darling?" He could feel the slight tremor in his hands as he held her, the battle between his desire and his fear raging within him.

Ruby let out a content sigh and nodded her head. "Of course." She giggled as Astarion kissed her cheek, the light brush of his lips tickling her skin. The sound was like music to his ears, a balm to his troubled heart.

Then, he kissed her forehead, a gesture of affection and reverence. Her skin was warm beneath his touch, and he could feel her pulse quickening in anticipation. Moving lower, he captured her lips in a tender kiss, savoring the softness and the sweet taste of her.

He began trailing kisses down her neck. He could sense her relaxation, the way she melted into his touch, and it gave him the courage to continue. His lips continued to brush over the sensitive skin until he found the weak pulse point that called to him like a siren.

"Never stop that, my sweet," the vampire spawn whispered against her neck.

"Stop what?" Ruby's voice was soft, her breath hitching slightly as she relished the coolness of his lips on her skin.

"Laughing. It's one of my favorite sounds next to this one." His words were laced with a seductive undertone, a promise of what was to come. Before she could respond, in one fluid movement, Astarion sunk his fangs into her skin.

The dhampir gasped, the sudden sharpness of his bite sending a thrill through her body. Her fingers instinctively found his curls, tangling in the silky white strands and lightly tugging at the ones at the nape of his neck. The sensation of his fangs piercing her flesh was both painful and euphoric, a paradox that she had come to crave.

As Astarion began to suck her blood, a primal hunger driving him, they both began to breathe heavily. His feeding was a dance of control and desire, his lips and tongue working in tandem to draw out her life essence while savoring each drop. Ruby's pulse quickened, and she could feel her blood rushing to the surface, answering his silent call.

The vampire spawn's hand slipped around her waist, pulling her closer, his grip possessive yet gentle. He could feel the rhythmic throb of her heartbeat through his fangs.

Ruby's grip tightened for a moment before it began to loosen. The sudden slackening of her hold sent a jolt of fear through Astarion. His undead heart raced, and panic surged through him as he realized she was slipping into unconsciousness. He stopped feeding at once, pulling away from her neck as if her skin had burned him. His crimson eyes widened in alarm, desperately seeking her gaze.

Her eyes fluttered open, tired and unfocused, but they found his with a flicker of recognition. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave, and he sighed, his body trembling from the intensity of his fear. He had come too close to losing her, the thought of which sent a shiver down his spine.

With a sense of urgency, Astarion reached for the nightstand drawer and retrieved a small vial of boar blood. He popped the cork from the vial and gently lifted Ruby's head, bringing the vial to her lips. "Drink, my love," he murmured as he poured the thick, dark liquid into her mouth.

Although her eyes were still dreary, the color slowly began to return to her face. She swallowed the blood in small, measured sips, her body instinctively responding to the nourishment. Astarion watched her intently, his eyes never leaving her face, his anxiety gradually ebbing away.

As she finished the vial, a wide smile spread across her lips, a sign of her recovery. The sight of it was like a balm to Astarion's frayed nerves, and he couldn't help but return the smile, albeit shakily.

"See, I told you I'd be okay. How do you feel?"

Astarion brushed a stray hair from her face. "That doesn't matter. How do you feel, Ruby?"

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. She grasped the lapels of his shirt, pulling him closer. Their faces were inches apart, and Ruby's eyes sparkled with warmth and affection. She pressed her lips to his in a gentle, reassuring kiss. "Grateful," she mouthed against him, her voice barely more than a whisper.

It took the vampire spawn mere seconds to respond, his worry melting away in the heat of the moment. He returned her kiss with a passion that had been tempered by fear and now released in a wave of relief and love. Their kiss deepened, a fervent dance of lips and tongues, as they both sighed and giggled like two lovestruck teenagers discovering each other for the first time.

Their connection was electric, each touch and caress amplifying the bond they shared. They lost themselves in the moment, their kisses becoming more insistent, more desperate. Ruby's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer still, while Astarion's hands roamed her back.

Neither of them needed to part for breath, their vampiric nature allowing them to savor the moment without the constraints of mortality. The world outside their embrace ceased to exist; there was only the warmth and softness of each other's lips, the mutual exchange of love and reassurance.

But as the minutes went by, reality began to creep back in. The Shadowfell loomed ahead, a dangerous and foreboding realm that demanded their full attention and strength. They could kiss all night, lost in each other's embrace, but it wouldn't change the challenges they would face come dawn.

Reluctantly, Astarion broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, his breathing heavy and uneven. "As much as I'd love to stay like this forever, we need to rest," he murmured. "We have a long day ahead of us."

The dhampir nodded, her own breath ragged and her lips swollen from their kisses. "I know," she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips. "But it was worth it."

Astarion chuckled softly, pressing a final, lingering kiss to her lips. "Every second," he agreed. He lay down beside her, pulling the soft blankets over them. As he held her close, he could feel her heartbeat gradually slow.

They lay there in the quiet darkness, the threat of the Shadowfell a distant worry compared to the warmth of this moment. The vampire spawn's arms tightened around Ruby, his determination to protect her stronger than ever.

But with that determination came a deep-rooted worry. Once Cazador realizes Ruby's not buried under six feet of dirt, he'll be after her too. He needed to find a way to take the vampire lord's place in the ritual. Who cares if it destroys the other spawn in the process? They were never there for him anyway. Ruby, however, had been his guiding light since they met and she was worth infinitely more than the likes of them combined.

They didn't discuss much after Raphael finally spilled the beans. Ruby must have assumed he wanted his space to think...and he did. He really did. He thought hard...but the conclusion was always the same. Hopefully, the dhampir would understand. Surely, she would, right?

The vampire spawn nuzzled into the crook of her neck, thumbing her arm draped loosely over his around her abdomen. He planted a gentle kiss to her jawline. The dhampir hummed. "Aren't you the one who said we needed rest?" she murmured teasingly with a raised brow though her eyes remained shut.

"I was just...thinking," Astarion began cautiously.

Ruby let out a small chuckle and turned over in his arms, finally opening her lids to reveal the beautiful amethyst orbs hidden beneath. "You seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Seems rather dangerous to me, my love."

"True," he purred, pulling her closer to him. He gazed lovingly into her eyes, affection flooding his crimson orbs. "I have an idea. Now, before you say anything, just hear me out, darling."

"Okay?" An amused smirk made its way to Ruby's lips as she let out another soft chuckle.

"What if...we could find a way for me to ascend in Cazador's place?"

Yet, her reaction was not what he was expecting. For the first time, Astarion saw fear clouding her features directed at him.

[wetcatspellcaster]

I just found your work and let me just say that I am an absolute simp for Rosalie! She is such a wonderful character and love her paring with Astarion. Though I am very curious, what does Rosalie see in Astarion and vise versa? What do they love/like most about each other? Apologies If you have already answered this/feel free to not answer :) I hope you have and or are having a wonderful day!

oh hey anon! thank you for reading my work, and for asking a very fun question that allows me to be very self-indulgent.

under the cut to avoid long post bc honestly, I can ship them as much as I want but not everyone has to read that.

Game/Party Favours Rosalie:

Rosalie sees someone who essentially embodies the charisma she thinks she lacks (very funny to me, who knows his charisma score and her charisma score, after BG3 backed me into a corner and made Persuasion the dealbreaker of the game). She knows that her knowledge is reserved for ivory towers, she admires his street smarts, even if she doesn't agree with his worldview. She thinks he's very good at being a rogue, and she finds competency extremely attractive (I mean, come on, +17 to lockpicking? she had Knock and he literally never left her party. she just liked to watch).

She has a lot of shame, Astarion seems to her to be shameless. There is also some standard "oh boy, hottest person I've ever encountered likes me" serotonin, as she is flattered that she can catch his attention and hold it. She liked stretching her new tadpole-aided social muscles through a constant back-and-forth that made her feel challenged, desirable, and like someone other than who she was - he essentially helped her build herself a new mask without either of them realising it. She liked that he still wanted to be with her, after that was dismantled. In the Party Favours timeline when the world isn't ending, Astarion is one of the people capable of leading her astray and help her to behave recklessly (still without really being reckless, basically they have a lot of really fun nights out). Once things have mellowed out and Astarion's worldviews aren't "let's help slavers" or "let's kill 7000 people", Rose gives a lot more leeway to "let's break into this building", "let's drunkenly ruin this party", "let's liven up this dragon killing by talking to it first".

I feel like with Astarion I'm just repeating other people's arguments for other people's Tavs, but I really like shipping him with an unapologetically kind or lawful good person (Tav, Wyll, Karlach) just because I think it means he gets to experience kindness on a level he's never experienced before. In terms of what he sees in her: at first, a very easy person to manipulate, but who also holds the most power and status in the group - to his extreme frustration. Someone who starts out on the first day as kind of a wet blanket, but by three weeks in is dealing insane damage and killing people with Scorching Rays, making him reconsider his stance. He also sees someone who challenges his worldview, by refusing to compromise on a set of morals he thinks are stupid and should get her killed and then doesn't. She consistently forgives him and shows him a grace the world hasn't given him, until Act 3 when she doesn't. I think he thinks she's hot, I think getting yelled by said hot woman is still pretty sexy. then, he also thinks she has an effortless charisma at getting people to like her that he works very hard at (is this the same as what Rosalie thinks about him, yes, that's the joke!)

In the Party Favours timeline, he repeatedly tried to seduce her, and it didn't work, so I guess part of her appeal there is that she helped him without expecting anything else in return. She consistently helped him recover as a friend and helped him build a life, and there wasn't any sex involved whatsoever.

Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth Rosalie:

I put this as separate, because I think the exes dynamic does change things massively. There's all of the above, but I think they also just both represent to each other the lives they could've chosen, or the mistakes they wish they could have fixed. Rosalie mourns her former life, while Ascended!Astarion fetishises her morality because that's the one thing he doesn't have - a sense of purpose, a moral compass, a conviction, and also a guiding light. I do think they are kind of clinging to an alternate history where everything worked out perfectly, and they see that in each other - the number of times Rose mourns the happier person she could've been, it's nearly always tied up with Astarion. Rosalie (as she did once before) literally sees those tadpoled months as her peak, before another massive period of depression.

I also think that, come Act 3, there is the inverse of that - not just the life that could've been, but the second chance. The idea that you might be able to recapture a little of that former joy, even if it's different now, and even if you feel you don't deserve it. I think once they break through that preconception - of this person not as a person, but as an ideal or a nostalgia - and actually begin to see the real person underneath it again, is actually when their relationship can begin to flourish and just be... idk. a bit more normal, again?