#navi;astarion

[ssslime]

nocte solitudo

his mind tends to wander at night.

➥ astarion x gn!tav, ranger!tav, some angst, a lil comfort, mentions of blood

It wasn’t often Astarion felt rested.

Meditation brought him some reprieve, at least, during nights where the camp’s quiet was only interrupted by the distant buzz of insects and the sound of the trees above them. Sometimes silence was too loud — too thick and heavy for him to relax.

Astarion shifted in his bedroll. His ruby gaze was caught upward, piercing into a little coin-sized hole in the cloth ceiling.

Tav would probably stitch that up quickly, if he asked. They’re good with crafty little things like that, all nimble fingers and a brow furrowed in concentration.

He rolled over.

A shard of light caught in Astarion’s eye for a second. The tiniest bit of moonlight bounced off of his daggers, tossed unceremoniously atop his travel bag in the corner of the tent. Smooth silver gave way to crusted, dark blood and grime near the sharpened tips. Astarion’s lips twitched downward.

He was hungry. He hadn’t fed in a while, and he’d need to hunt something down within the next few nights. Things had just felt hectic as of late — why exactly Tav insisted on helping every dripping wet, sniffling fellow they found on the side of the road, he’d never know. It grated his nerves sometimes, how it seemed they were unable to say no to any sad little sob story fed to them. He would know; it’s worked for him before.

But, Tav would probably help him hunt down some wild boar, or maybe even a bear to hold him off for a while, if he asked. They’re quite the hunter.

He sat up.

Outside, he could hear Scratch idling around. The dog’s eager nose gave him away; sniffing and snorting softly, Astarion knew the pup was poking around their trunk of food nearby. With a sigh, he stood to his feet and parted the curtain door. He wouldn’t be settled any time soon, anyways.

The night air felt cool on his skin as he stepped outside. All was calm, as expected. A crackling, dying fire laid in the center of camp, dimly lighting the area and casting weak shadows along the surrounding tree line. Astarion let his eyes wander over to the white dog some yards away.

Scratch lifted his head and peered right back. His tail swayed lightly back and forth and his ears perked up.

“Hungry, are you?” Astarion asked quietly, looking between the dog and the closed chest. Scratch simply tilted his head to the side, his big, pleading eyes working wonders on the supposed stone cold vampire.

Astarion sighed. “Fine, fine — but nobody hears about this, understood?”

He wasn’t sure why he was talking to a damned dog. He reminded himself of how strange and silly Tav looked whenever they would communicate with animals. It was nearly second nature to them, it seemed, and perhaps that’s what it was — a survival technique, like all their other skills, developed out of necessity. He could relate, and that thought alone made his stomach turn a little.

Thoughts like these came to Astarion at the worst times. Moments where he was free from distraction, with countless minutes under his belt to ruminate and dissect, even when all he wanted was to simply close his eyes and let time pass like sand between his fingers.

He tossed the dog a sausage link. He knew what it was like to have a feast right in front of you, and not be allowed to indulge.

In his mind’s eye, Astarion could picture slinking across the stagnant landscape of their sleepy little camp. Working with the shadows to blend seamlessly into Tav’s patchwork wonder of a tent. Watching their chest rise and fall with deep, steady breath — their lashes flickering just the slightest bit over their cheeks. Feeling their pulse thrum beneath his lips, their breath catching, their hand weaving into the curls at the nape of his neck.

Tav would probably let him feed, if he asked. They’d shared their blood before; succulent and sweet and mind-numbingly warm as it slipped down his parched throat. They’re such a delicious treat.

But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t ask such a selfish thing.

He sighed.

Change is difficult. Surely his life was leaps and bounds better than it was before; no longer did he have to prowl taverns and dark streets for vulnerable prey in the form of drunk and lonely hearts. But this… duality inside of him made him sick. He wished so desperately for things to be different.

He wished they could’ve been another name and face to discard the morning after.

“Astarion?”

He wished he didn’t see parts of himself in them.

“Is everything alright? It’s very late.”

He wished he could be selfish with them, because it’d be so painfully easy. But he couldn’t.

He glanced up, soaking in Tav’s tousled hair and squinted expression as it grew closer. They rubbed one eye with the back of their hand and furrowed their brow, watching him expectantly. Scratch, of course, trotted over happily upon seeing his favorite person, and leaned up against their legs. Tav dropped their hand to rub along the dog’s snout and cheek in a show of idle affection.

“I was just… thinking,” Astarion replied finally. “Feeling a bit restless, I suppose. And what of you, darling?”

Tav blinked their bleary eyes, watching him for a moment before opening their mouth again.

“Would you come lay with me?”

It wasn’t often Astarion felt rested. After 200 years, it was something he was used to. His nights were filled with crushing guilt or staggering loneliness, doomed to wallow in the dark and filth of his seemingly endless existence.

But, perhaps change is a good thing. Perhaps this is what it’s like to be born anew, to shed your old skin in favor of a life newer, better than before. It’s unsettling, it’s sensitive.

Astarion pondered this as he settled in behind Tav. The scent of lavender curled around him as soon as he laid down on their bedroll. He didn’t mind — it had quickly become a source of comfort, whether he’d admit it to himself or not.

“Thank you,” Tav whispered after a few moments of quiet, “it feels better with you here.”

Astarion slid his ruby gaze over to settle on the back of their head. He turned onto his side, weaving his arm under theirs to rest on their waist. Tav relaxed easily into his gentle hold, fitting their bodies together like they were shaped from the same clay.

“You don’t have to thank me, dove. I’m just a few tents away,” he leaned closer, ghosting his lips over their shoulder with a gentle kiss, full of all the warmth and affection he never knew he was capable of before, “all you have to do is ask.”

[typhoons-mess]

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•Navi Miles Quaritch •Human Miles Quaritch

Arcane

•Silco •Jayce Talis •Victor

Baldur’s Gate

•Astarion •Halsin

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•Betelgeuse •Beetlejuice [Musical]

Dexter

•Dexter

Don’t Breathe

•Norman Nordstrom

Gotham

•Jerome Valeska •Jeremiah Valeska

How To Train Your Dragon

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•Loki Laufeyson

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[grapecaseschoices]

adair's group is my best dressed, so of course I had to show them off.

[thedomesticanthropologist]

My Father in law who is 65 loves Baldurs Gate but doesn't really catch all the things. This is the conversation he had with me today

"I did an evil thing, but I didn't like it so I had to re load."

Oh?

"I was gonna make Ariel, the vampire, into a God, because it makes him all powerful and stuff, after you kill that other guy. Who was a really easy fight, they really hyped him up for no reason."

Ariel?

"Yeah that white haired vampire. I made him all powerful but then it killed like, 1000 people"

Yes, 7000 actually

"Yeah! And did you know some of those were kids? Kids! I was gonna be evil but I got all guilty about it, I don't wanna hurt kids. So I reloaded and Ariel can just stay at camp, I dunno, doing whatever he does. I can't do it. I'm not evil I guess, I tried."

He tried to Ascend Astarion and couldn't, this man is a retired Navy chief petty officer first class, he's killed real people. He couldn't do the evil route in the video game

So "Ariel" gets to drink wine in camp.

[madwomansapologist]

in the afterglow (of an orgy) | bg3 companions x tav

cw: i'm not catholic but i feel like i sinned with this. gangbang turns into a orgy: the most dangeous polycule in the making. established relationships/developing relationships. m/m, f/f, m/f. cum swallowing. i am just a whore for tavrem.

an: happy 1th bg3 anniversary! i already love those characters more than i love my brother (wink wink). a bit late, my mom's birthday was my priority, but there we go!

They almost broke you.

You could still feel it all. A sort of discomfort that can only exist after immense pleasure. Those lingering touches on your burned skin. The deep bites collaring your neck, scratches on your back and nape. Dried tears staining your cheeks. Raw lips, just like the insides of your thighs.

Will you still feel it all tomorrow? Will their kisses, bites, slaps, hands, still be covering your body once you have to come back to old harsh life? Oh, yes, it will. That pain and pleasure inflicted on you won't suddenly dissapear. It will fade eventually, but you will still have bruises to gaze upon for some time. You prefer it that way. Everytime it aches, you'll think about them.

But not now. For now, there is nothing on your mind. Not a worry, not a memory, not a dream: all you have is moonlight's embrace and the warmth of the bonfire.

Such a loud silence took over the camp. As if it could even be called silence. Heavy breathing and soft whimperings. Moans so loud they still eccho into their heads. Such a filthy harmony.

"Hells", Wyll was the first to speak. He couldn't say much more than that.

Karlach groaned, her throat let out a sob almost palpable. Her whole body burned hotter. Smoke came out of her mouth, and Wyll wondered where she found the cigar. When. If she had more to spare. "More like heavens."

It wasn't planned. It wasn't expected. It was a hard day, and it turned into a cold night. In some moment in between those two, someone had to start it. This. Not that any of them could remember who did.

It was normal for you to kiss one of them when surrounded by the others, but you were always aware of the weight of their gaze. Some prefer to pretend it wasn't happening—Gale and Karlach would suddenly find something so interesting in their hands to look at. Others would enjoy it—Shadowheart and Wyll know how the other taste, and have shared a fair amount of wine watching you with Astarion.

And still, there was a line you decided to not cross. A point where you would stop, no matter with who you were, no matter who surrounded you. They all respected it, just like you did theirs. Shadowheart would tease, some would pout, but none would make you feel less than safe with them.

But then, someone had to start this. They really can't remember, the beggining of the night dizzy and so far away, but somehow they know who decided to do that. You. It could only be you.

Gale put on his navy robe, his cheeks burning brighter than the bonfire. Once he disappeared inside his tent, Astarion rolled his eyes and went back to watch the stars.

He knew it would make things too complicated. Shit, he knew it, but he wanted it. Wasn't it already difficult to be with you? It took him too long to understand you, to trust you, and now because of a night he might have weakened his bond with all other companions.

Not that they even matter that much. You're the strongest between them. Astarion needs to be safe, and you proved again and again that you can do that. Let the others suck on their own insecurities. Astarion will make sure to have you by his side when he avenges himself.

Lying to himself won't change the fact Astarion chose to do everything he did. It was all a choice. Every kiss, every bite, every thrust. And so did that damned wizard. Astarion will keep on lying to himself, pretending not to notice as his heart shatters once more.

Then he felt the blanket over his skin. Astarion opened his eyes, and this time he couldn't look away from the mark on Gale's neck. "Oh, darling, you can be sweet", Astarion bit his tongue. "Unlike your blood."

Gale sighed. He kneeled besides you, covering your body. You were already dozzing off, but he saw a tiny smile spreading across your face. "How you feeling, my love?"

"Gross", you whispered. Gale chuckled, his thumb carressed your lips. You knew your whole body was covered in cum, but you couldn't care less once he licked his finger. "I can still feel you inside me. All of you."

A cold hand touched yours. Shadowheart was the last to get tired enough to stop. Her leg is intertwined with yours, now covered thanks to Gale, her knees stiff against your core.

"You've been so good", her voice, so soft, felt like a lullaby. You gazed at her lips. Such tender words for someone who rode your face calling you a whore. "What do you want, lover?"

Supporting yourself on your elbows, you tried to get up. Once your clit brushed against her knee, you whimpered. Shadowheart stared at you, and Gale held your arms. "I'll get clean", you said, waiting for them to give you space to move.

"Not so fast, dove", Shadowheart sat, the blanket falling and revealing her beautiful body. She was as burned as you. "You took all of us. If you can walk, then I will be scared."

Gale sat besides you, supporting you on his chest. You were sat now, but not any closer to getting up. "You are a sight", he whispered against your ear. "Let us care for you."

"I feel dirty", you said. "I just want to get clean."

Wyll raised from his spot, and Karlach watched as he walked away from her. She felt the lack of his weight on her chest.

She still burns. Less than she used to, but she does. And yet, there is not a person without the markes of her hands and lips. Karlach burned every single one of you, and no one wanted her to stop.

Karlach is used to feeling cold. It was so lonely and for so long. That's the first time in a while she feels hot and it isn't a bad thing.

"Is that a pout?" She teased. You wanted for her to be closer to you, but by the way her legs tremble you knew Karlach couldn't move. So did you. "Don't make me bite it out of you. Sit down and relax. You fucking earned it."

Wyll came back carrying towels and soap. Watching him, you relaxed against Gale's body. He kneeled in between your legs, and the first thing he did was to kiss your forehead.

"They are right", Wyll joined them in this little quest of preventing you from moving. "You've been so good. For all of us. Now let us take care of you, doll."

Wyll then kissed your knuckles, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. As if you both didn't knew his cum was deep inside your ass.

"Astarion, get her something to eat", a voice from behind you made you shiver. "Gale, we need a bath. You can warm water, can't you Shadowheart?"

"Oh, dear Lae'zel, I fear I can't." Shadowheart rolled her eyes, moving her hands as a rune appeared on the floor.

They can banter for however longer they want it. Everyone knows how long they spend fighting one another to ensure they would be on top. Between the two of them, it was more a battle than sex.

Exactly what you said they needed.

A purple glow you saw by the corner of your eyes worked as a telltale of Gale's magic. Only when you saw the bath floating until it reached the runes you understood it. They were about to bath you.

The camp was no longer silent. Watching the chaos of it all, Astarion chuckled to himself and went after something for everyone to eat.

Nothing changed.

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general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight

baldur's gate 3 taglist: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : IMAGINE STARGAZING WITH LOGAN HOWLETT : :;

The night was clear and calm, the sky a vast expanse of deep navy studded with countless shimmering stars. Logan and you had ventured out to a quiet spot on the outskirts of town, far from the city lights. The cool night air was invigorating, and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze provided a gentle backdrop to the evening.

Logan had been skeptical at first, questioning the appeal of staring up at a seemingly endless void of stars. But your enthusiasm had been infectious, and he had agreed to join you in what you described as your favorite pastime—stargazing.

You settled on a blanket spread out on the grass, and Logan followed suit, stretching out beside you. For a few moments, there was only the sound of your breathing and the occasional chirp of crickets.

As you lay there, eyes glued to the sky, you began to speak softly, sharing your thoughts. “I like to think of the stars as loved ones who’ve passed on,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “They’re up there watching over us, guiding us. It’s comforting.”

Logan turned his head to look at you, his gaze shifting between the serene expression on your face and the twinkling sky above. He saw a kind of peace in you, a tranquility that seemed to make the night even more magical. It was clear that this was more than just a hobby for you; it was a deeply comforting ritual.

He opened his mouth to speak, to offer his own thoughts or maybe even a witty remark, but the words caught in his throat. Seeing you like this, so serene and content, made him reconsider his initial skepticism. Instead of breaking the silence, he chose to remain quiet, allowing himself to fully immerse in the moment.

Logan lay beside you, his gaze shifting from your face to the stars. He found himself beginning to understand what you found so special about this activity. There was something undeniably peaceful about it, something that seemed to slow down time and put life’s troubles in perspective.

The night wore on, and you continued to share your thoughts, your voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of the night. Logan listened, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as if to remind himself of the warmth beside him. The comfort you found in the stars had begun to seep into him as well.

As the hours passed, Logan found himself surprisingly captivated by the night sky. It wasn’t just about the stars anymore; it was about the connection they represented and the peacefulness they brought. He didn’t need to say anything to disrupt the tranquility. Instead, he let himself be enveloped by the serenity of the night and the closeness he felt with you.

When you finally turned to him, your eyes gleaming with a mixture of contentment and curiosity, Logan smiled. “You were right,” he said softly. “This is nice. I think I’m starting to understand why you love it so much.”

You smiled back, your hand finding his in a gentle clasp. “I’m glad. It’s even better sharing it with someone who gets it.”

Logan nodded, his gaze drifting back to the stars. The night felt different now—more meaningful, perhaps. He lay there with you, savoring the moment and the newfound appreciation for the simple joy of stargazing.

In the quiet of the night, under a blanket of stars, Logan realized that sometimes the most unexpected experiences could turn into something profoundly special, especially when shared with someone you cared about.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @shybluebirdninja @boomveronika @wolviesgirl @slowlikehoneyyy @lanabobana

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!!

Also check out part 7 of the ‘Stay With Me’ Series below!!!

Oldman!Logan Howlett ➝ Stay With Me (Pt.7)

[lesbianralzarek]

mtg standard decks i think the bg3 origins would play

astarion: monored aggro, but tbh i dont think hed even like it. he heard someone say its easy to pilot, and thats all Mr. Not Really The Planning Type needed to hear. bored and barely pays attention when hes playing. outside of the pun, i think orzhov bats would be a perfect fit for him, and make him feel smarter even if hes not the best at it

gale: keeps making combo decks and getting bored with them after a handful of wins prove to him that the concept works. still trying to break 2-mana jace. unwinds with azorius control and gets defensive when people call it winconless, because technically he has manlands and sunfall tokens. wants to think that his opponents are also having fun, but why tf would they be?

wyll: oh he had fun at the bloomburrow prerelease. still hasnt given up on frogs yet because he likes helga for both lore reasons (he loves an underdog! she just has to believe in herself!) and because hes a massive timmy who loves big creatures. totally isnt mad when his opponent efficiently removes 3 of his vaultborn tyrants in one game. why would he be mad? its just a game. he takes a smoke break after the match for completely unrelated reasons

karlach: hasnt played in years, so she had to rebuild her entire collection for standard (mostly plays edh for that reason. her fav is her rin and seri deck with mostly older cards in the 99 that she refuses to acknowledge are bad in 2024). plays the greediest lizard deck youve ever seen because shes also a timmy. i think shed like boomer jund if any of her friends (other than gale) played modern

lae'zel: prowess and she fucking loves it. "gruul is brain dead"? not the way she pilots that shit. she runs her deck like the navy. takes forever psychoanalyzing her opponent and thinking 4 turns ahead. cant play edh because she thinks the social contract is dumb. why doesnt everyone try to win? winning is fun? fight her like you mean it. genuinely a good sport when she loses so long as it was a good fight

shadowheart: looks like somebody misses the 8 rack. 4 cut downs, 4 go for the throats, 4 deep cavern bats, 4 bandits talents, my god she wishes thoughtseize was standard legal but liliana keeps her bloodthirst sated. gets mad when she loses to zoo decks but deep down its 70% jealousy. feels a weird sense of loyalty and duty to stick with monoblack, but shed convert to naya in 3 seconds if she ever tried it

[parvulous-writings]

no idea if nail polish exists in the 5e world, but it does now. how about a chill day for the companions where everyone does their nails? or is tav/durge doing the painting for everyone?

Summary: Camp has a nail day!

Warnings: Minor spoilers for Shadowheart's various arcs, same for Karlach. One swear word.

Notes:  if it doesn't exist, it sure as hell does now! Also apologies that this took so long - New year is a busy time at work, and I've got a minor injury with my hand, so I'm working as fast as I can, but it's a little slower than normal!

I've included all the recruitable companions, besides Minthara, who is not included purely because I cannot accurately write for her just yet!

My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Not my image

Time on the road where everyone is able to relax is very scarce commodity, so when it does crop up, you're always the first to suggest grabbing it by the horns and making the most out of the day - not by training, or planning your next moves, but typically with something more laid back.

You're camping close to Rivington when you get the first day-long break in weeks, so that morning you venture into town to have a quick browse of the stalls; perhaps you can find some food that will remind the various Baldurians in camp of their home? As you're starting to make your way back to camp, something catches you eye - a nail polish kit, going for quite cheap. You can hardly restrain yourself from buying it- you already know that it will bring a lot of much needed joy into camp.

Astarion is quite intrigued when you announce the spoils you've returned with. For too long he's craved petty vanity again; and even if he can only get it from painting his nails, he's willing to grasp at that chance. "What's this?" He hums, peering over your shoulder, trying to get a good look at all the colours that the kit contains, as well as the equipment. The first thing he does, given the chance, is start tending to his nails - cleaning under them, pushing back the cuticles, trimming and filing them into shape, the works. He spares no time making sure that everything is as he envisions. Sure, the colours he eventually settles on may not match the rest of his armour, but his new manicure matches his more comfortable clothes, so that's good enough for him.

Gale is... Unsure if this is the right kind of thing for your journey. "We have many more pressing matters to worry about, besides our appearances." He practically grumbles to you. "Might I suggest actually focusing on planning our next move?" It doesn't actually take a lot to convince him to sit down and let him do one hand of nails on him. You paint his nails a lovely shade of dark navy blue, which looks black in the shade, but blue when hit by light. You start speckling dots of white here and there to make them mirror the night sky, when Gale tells you he'd like to do his other hand himself. Of course, you let him, and about twenty minutes later, he's back to proudly show you his work. It's a lot shakier than the side you had done, but he looks so proud of himself for being able to emulate your skill even a little bit, you don't even nitpick in a teasing way. When it inevitably starts to chip away, he's absolutely devastated, but doesn't say anything until you all get an opportunity to rest properly again.

Justiciar!Shadowheart instantly dives for the black varnish. Nothing more, and nothing else. She doesn't dwell on it, but in some vain way, she feels like she's carrying a part of her goddess' revered darkness with her, even if it will chip away eventually. That just reminds her that everything on this plane is fleeting, and finite, always eventually consumed by loss. Selunite!Shadowheart adds a little more colour to her nails - dots of white, or purple are incorporated, intricate little designs that pay homeage to both her life as a Sharran, and her family heritage as Selunites. She takes great pride in the designs she makes, and often spends a very long time making sure that they are just like how she imagines in her head.

Lae'zel doesn't particularly like painting her nails - she feels it takes away from her aura of formidable warrior. She will, however, sharpen her nails on a regular basis - just as a back-up plan if she loses her weapon, or perhaps gets caught by surprise and needs to scratch out some eyeballs.

Karlach pre-upgrade loves to watch you do your nails. As in, she will actively sulk if you don't let her watch, or have some tiny level of input. She'll huff and pout, but eventually goes to sit elsewhere with a quiet "fine, whatever.." Post-upgrade Karlach is so eager to have her nails done, she's bouncing back and forth on her feet. She can't decide on a single colours - especially not by herself. "They all look so pretty!" She exclaims, waving her hands about in glee. So, unable to make a decision, she takes her favourite colours, and has all of them on her fingers - repeating a similar process on her toes with her second favourite colours. "This is the best thing we have ever done! ... Besides beating the shit out of Thorm... so, the second best thing!"

Wyll tidies his nails - similar to Astarion. He wants them to be a much nicer shape than they have been up to this point - makeshift files had not been too kind on his nails, and he was tired of catching them on things. He takes great care in shaping them and removing any chips or quicks - it's an activity he takes great pride in, and he'll happily do the same for you if you ask him to! As for colour, Wyll likes to go for a clear coat, purely for protecting his nails; though he has been known to paint his nails black, for dramatic effect. He loves his nails - not to the point that he preens them at any given moment, but enough to give them the time and care they need to keep healthy.

Halsin doesn't particularly like the idea of polish. Sure, it looks pretty, but he'd rather not wear it himself - there are other ways, he's found, that you can change the colour of your nails. (When you ask him what he means, or even to just elaborate a little bit more on how he knows this, he simply replies with "I once had a... Somewhat rebellious streak in my youth.") So it's likely that the only thing that he uses in this particular kit is the file and buffer - which looks absolutely tiny in his hands, it's quite funny.

Minsc doesn't do his own nails - at all. He won't even file them, he just either bites them or they snap off (usually it's the former). Instead, he takes care of Boo's claws. "Now, now, my friend. Do not call me strange - if I do not care for Boo's mighty claws, then who will? The paws of justice must be well cared for!" Insists that every few days he must re-file and re-buff Boo's nails, and will not take no for an answer. He also tries to convince you that Boo is trying to tell you the same, but by the way the little rodent's head shakes when he sits on Minsc's shoulder tells you otherwise.

Jaheira almost laughs when you suggest doing her nails. She wants to them herself, but, eventually she does ask you to help her. "It seems I'm a little out of practice.." She chuckles. "Perhaps some company wouldn't be so bad... If your offer still stands, of course." She LOVES having green nails. Sage green is her favourite, but she likes all of them really. Sometimes, if she's feeling particularly happy, she'll let you paint little golden leaves on her thumb - but that can be a rare occasion, because she doesn't want such skill to always go to waste.

[scrapsovereign]

“I Have Standards”: A Choose Your Own Adventure Smut Fic

Description: NSFW. Astarion rejects you after defeating the Goblin Camp, so you seek out a certain wizard to make him realize what he's missing out on...

Pairings: Astarion x F! Tav, Gale x F! Tav, Astarion x Gale x F! Tav

Trigger warnings/tags: Negotiating Dom/Sub roles

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

(You Enter Gale's Tent)

(Go Back!)

Your lips crash into Gale’s as soon as you cross the threshold of the canvas doorway. Clumsy from too much drink too soon, your feet catch on the lip of the tent’s opening and you lose your balance. 

Gale utters a word under his breath that sounds like a down pillow would feel, the two of you landing softly on the ground beside each other on to his bedroll. 

“Thank you,” you whisper in gratitude, the backs of his fingers stroking down the side of his well-trimmed beard. 

He catches your hand, pressing a hot, breathy kiss to your fingers. 

“What kind of a wizard would I be if I could not assure your utmost safety and comfort?” he sighs dreamily, tracing small circles into the back of your hand with his thumb. 

You take a moment then to look at him, really look at him. Gale’s handsome face is stunning in shades of navy blue. You gaze into his chocolate eyes glimmering with intense desire for you. He bites his full, kissable lips, looking away for a moment, to gather the strength to ask you a question.

“I’ve apprised you of the…sexual nature of my relationship with Mystra. When we were together, I was never given the chance to be the dominant partner. I didn’t mind at the time, given that I was starved for any breadcrumb of affection she deemed to bestow upon me. I’ve wondered over the last year if the steady suppression of my desires to occasionally take control in the bedroom led to…well,” Gale confesses, his face falling at the mention of his predicament- you assume with the Karsus Weave he had erroneously tried to return to Mystra. 

He places the hand that has been on the side of his face over the orb, and you watch as it glows faintly underneath your touch. 

“Would…would you allow me the honor of taking the lead?” Gale stammers, his heart racing underneath your fingertips. “However, if your intentions are set on being in control, please don’t hesitate to tell me what’s on your mind. The delightful presence of your company supersedes my own fantasies. Tonight, my only wish is to fulfill your desires.”

Time freezes while you take stock of your options, the words you wish to speak spilling from your lips before you have a chance to second guess yourself. 

To leave Gale’s tent: “I’m very sorry, Gale, but I don’t want this.” 

Stay in Gale’s tent, accepting his offer of dominating you: “Yes, I trust you.” 

Stay in Gale’s tent, and dominate him: “Would it be okay if I take the lead tonight?” 

[omgkalyppso]

[Content ID: art of characters from Baldur's Gate 3. From left to right there is first an original character balancing on a wall behind themself as they adjust a teal two-piece swimsuit and stretch one leg forward. They have long red hair tied back, freckles and four visible piercings in their right ear. They are staring across to Astarion. Second, is Minthara in a green one-piece swimsuit with her white hair tied back as she too looks towards Astarion and the other character on the right side of the image. She is adjusting the base of her swimsuit also. Third is another original character half stepping forward. Their hair, curled from humidity, is also tied back. They are wearing teal earrings, a mesh or fishnet top, and blue swim shorts pattered with a white tree covered in pink blossoms. They have a rose tattoo on one side of their neck, a dagger tattoo with plumb blossoms can be seen on their abdomen, a dead spider tattoo on the inside of one ankle, and a final visible tattoo that appears as thorns around the base of their opposite ankle. They are sharing a smile with Minthara. Fourth and lastly, Astarion adjusts his hair while staring off into the distance. He is wearing a navy and silver pair of swim shorts.

In the background a blue sky dotted with blue skies over a sandy beach with active waves against a shoreline. This view is obstructed by a grey stone alcove / grotto that the characters find themselves in. Below them is dark brown rock, with two red blobs behind Minthara to imply bags of belongings, and blue water by their feet. /End ID]

Will I ever learn how to shorten image descriptions? Signs point to no.

Thanking @razrogue for her patience with me as I consulted her on nearly all aspects of this over the past like, week. Gan (she/they), Minthara, Étoile (they/he) and Astarion finally get some time to enjoy the Coast.

This is also a piece that I worked on long enough that I feel justified in reminding the curious that if you're on desktop, you can click to embiggen and then right-click: open in a new tab to see the full size! (:

Close up's and a pride version below the cut.

Please do not use my art of anything without consulting me but especially not my art of Gan or Étoile, thank you.

[justporo]

Swashbuckling (Shipless)

Staeve and Astarion are captains of hostile pirate crews - one infamous and well feared, the other... rather chaotic but not any less passionate. When Staeve and his crew are in dire need of a new ship, he takes it upon himself to steal one and comes face to face with his nemesis Astarion once more. And no one can know that they not only have a history with crossing their swords - but also something more...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: I... listen... I hadn't planned to write a pirate AU this week, but here we are. I brought an idea up on @velnnas server and then dear Tange pushed me to go ahead and actually write it - so I sat down and wrote this in like eight hours. Some others from this wonderful community threw in some more points and inspo (e.g. the ship name Absolute). So, @velnna, this is once more for you, thank you for being such an inspiration with your wonderful character (and letting me drag him out to sea)! And thanks also to the wonderful community on discord!

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve (You, male reader) Warnings: some violence, some mutual pining, bit of past traume (if you squint) Wordcount: 5,5k

Song: Jack Sparrow - Klaus Badelt

~~~

Your crew really had need for a new ship. Not only had the old one gotten way too small for your thankfully ever growing group - but it also stank, was just generally old - oh, and it had sunk recently.

Luckily, you had been very close to the biggest port on the coast when that had happened. And somehow all of you had made it the dinghy - even the crew’s loyal dog, Scratch.

Now you had nothing but the clothes on your back - which also kinda stank and were just generally really old: the floppy but comfy leather boots (albeit very wet), leather pants accessorised with multiple belts and the strip of red cloth tied firmly around your hips. And then of course your trusty sabre and dagger carelessly sheathed on some of those belts and your - as usual - wide open and very dirty linen shirt that always worked wonders whenever you were in trouble or just desperately bartering with someone. And it had at least guaranteed you a few nights in one of the taverns after you’d sufficiently charmed the barmaid - which, looking like a bunch of wet dogs, had really been a feat to be proud of.

Oh, and not to forget: you at least still had your ancient tricorne with you - how would anyone know you were a pirate without the proper headgear?

But that, unfortunately, was all you still had to your name. At least that hadn’t sunk with the ship too. It still pained you though that you couldn’t even rightfully call yourself a captain anymore.

But at least if you were shipless and in desperate need of a new vessel, being in a big port was the best thing to happen to you, right? You had a free pick out of everything anchored here.

Of course you had no money, but you were pirates after all. You wouldn’t have intended to pay for it even on a better day. Piracy must be good for something after all.

The last couple of days you and your crew had somehow pulled through while you had taken the time to reorganise and garner some information about the current ships anchoring here. Or to put it plainly: find a time, a place and a target to steal a ship and be on your merry way again.

And now finally, the time had come to set your plan in motion.

It was deep in the night, security at the port was rather light around this time - fools - and the moon was your only real witness as you snuck inconspicuously around the docks towards your target: the Absolute.

A smaller but fine ship. Of course nowhere comparable to the big, flamboyant navy or even other pirate’s ships. Not as excessively decorated with gold covered carvings or intricately crafted lanterns upon it and no dozens of canons to be manned.

But from what you had figured out your pick was to be quick, reliant and most of all: intact. And that already had made you more excited than you would have cared to admit.

You were alone now as you made your way along the final dock towards your target, your crew waiting somewhere outside the city already. And that might have sounded like a really bad idea - and maybe it was. But it was much easier to get away with stealing a ship if you were alone.

And that was yet another advantage of the Absolute: at that size it was fairly manageable alone, at least for a while. Of course your crew had protested, but you had been the reason they’d ended up sinking in the first place. So you felt it was your responsibility to get yourself and everyone else out of this and back on the open sea again. And of course your plan was reckless and stupid and there was a fair chance you’d be caught and thrown into a cell. But what else was new?

You found your target and immediately went to undo all the ropes holding it ashore. When only the anchor held the ship in place you found the spot closest to the net hanging down the side of the ship. You took a few steps back, as far as the dock would allow. You closed your eyes for a moment and lifted your head towards the sky.

This was probably going to end badly. But now you were deep into it anyway.

“Alright, Staeve, time to make a captain out of you again”, you muttered to yourself and then took a running leap to jump and grab hold of the net.

You crashed so hard against the side of the boat that you almost knocked yourself out, but at least you managed to grab hold of some rope. Strands of your long hair were suddenly falling into your face as your trusty tricorn almost fell off but you managed to grab it in time and push it down your head again.

You quickly climbed up and jumped over the railing as silently as possible. Light security didn’t mean there wasn’t any security at all. But it seemed you were in the clear, so you looked around what was supposed to be your new home for you and your crew.

Taking in everything on the deck you quickly found where you could hoist the anchor.

After having dealt with that the ship was already swaying much more on the light waves. You only had to set some sails and start steering it out of the port. This was a walk in the park!

Immediately a voice inside you screamed at you that that usually meant you were moments away from absolute disaster. But for now there was no disaster in sight, right?

With a lot more confidence now you swaggered over to the steering wheel, wanting to prepare your course before the opened sails would immediately drag the ship into another anchored vessel and make it crash. You had barely recovered from one sunken ship, you would not risk another.

You grabbed hold of the steering wheel from the back as it came into your reach, dragged and… nothing happened. You tried again - still nothing.

With a frown you walked around the big wooden wheel. Nothing looked wrong with it, so you grabbed two opposite ends once more and desperately tried to turn. The wheel wouldn’t budge an inch.

Just a tiny bit of panic started to rise within you. Your inner voice snapped at your sarcastically for dismissing it. Your plan couldn’t fail just because you were too weak to turn a godsdamned steering wheel, could it? Furrowing your brows you looked around the damned thing. And after a few long moments of staring at it in confusion and helplessness finally found a small brass contraption beneath it with a small keyhole that seemed to hold everything in place.

“You gotta be kidding me, they’re putting locks on these things now?”, you scream-whispered to yourself and dragged your hat over your face for a moment. “Piracy will die out if that is how things are developing.”

You really needed a good drink if you’d actually manage to pull this off. A big one too. Maybe several even. Hopefully they had stored some liquor somewhere on this thing.

But first you had to find the key

Taking a wild guess, you figured the captain’s cabin would be your best bet. So trying to regain some of your former confidence you turned around and took the few steps over to the dark wooden door that would lead you there.

You laid your hand on the door handle and just for a tiny moment hesitated. All in all, this was all still very easy; too easy almost for your liking. Your inner critic confirmed once more that things were probably about to go sideways.

But then you just shrugged and threw open the door. Expecting complete darkness inside, you were thrown off by the warm, golden light that greeted you. Candles and lanterns were lit throughout the room. Your brows immediately furrowed.

And much more than by the lights you were completely shocked by the man sitting there in the captain’s spot in front of the navigator’s desk in a tall chair turned towards the door. Legs clad in shiny black boots were lazily draped over one of the armrests. He was finely dressed in a red and gold satin doublet with intricate stitching and black leather pants. Of course a rapier was also dangling from his hip and the tip nearly touched the ground.

But he had not gone for a hat. In fact, he never had. It would only have ruined his perfect, luscious white curls as he had always insisted. And he didn’t need one in the first place to have anyone know that he was the most infamous, feared and most dangerous pirate captain on this part of the coast.

Instead as his final accessory he was wearing that smirk you knew and still remembered so damn well, one side of his mouth curled up arrogantly while his red eyes perpetually seemed to tease you. It was that smirk you kept dreaming about when you were honest with yourself. But it was also what you were loathing with a burning passion.

It had made you do things before. Things you were either not proud of or just outright tried to forget. And you couldn’t use that right now.

“Hello Staeve, my darling!”, the man said in a tone dripping with sinful promise and playful threat.

You had been expected.

“Astarion”, you simply managed while your hand immediately wandered towards your sheathed sabre.

Several big rings on Astarion’s long, elegant fingers clinked against the metal chalice as he drank from it. Probably red wine from what you knew about him.

He took his sweet time to respond to you, slowly and languidly letting one of his legs swing back and forth. Obviously, one of you was not in a big rush.

Meanwhile all you could do was stand there and let uneasiness rise up in you. Why was he here, obviously expecting you? And why did he have to sit like this? Bastard!

“Look what the cat dragged out of the sea”, Astarion drawled afterwards while he kept tapping his index against the goblet, causing a very annoying continuous clicking sound.

”By the gods, you look even worse than the last time I threw you to the sharks and left you to die”, Astarion continued with a smug grin on his perfect pale face and shifted around in his seat so he could lean his elbow on the armrest and put his face in his free hand.

You felt your temper rising. Your hand itched to just grab your dagger, throw it at him and wipe his arrogant grin off his face. Especially for making you remember all the times you had come across each other since you had parted ways.

Stuff like this had happened way too often since you had sworn yourself to never return to the bastard. But your paths had crossed again and again and it tended to always lead to intense encounters - one way or another.

And somehow you were always the one left with nothing but an aching heart, yearning for the past while the infamous captain left seemingly unscathed and unbothered.

But you also had other things to think about right now. You were still trying to steal a ship after all! And you had to figure out where this godsdamned key was.

So as you looked around the room searching, you opted to distract Astarion with some idle chatter. You knew that would always work. The flamboyant captain just loved to hear his own voice way too much (you loved it too but of course you would never admit that).

“And what are you doing here? I didn’t see the Crimson anchored anywhere here”, you asked him while your gaze jumped between different corners of the room and your nemesis. At least Astarion was way too focused on mocking you to notice that you were trying to find a way to get the needed key and then get rid of the unwanted passenger.

“Of course, the Crimson isn’t anchored here. We’re not all fools as big as you, Staeve!”, the pale captain spat back at you, obviously offended that you would even think him capable of such a thing.

You shrugged - he kinda had a point. But it still didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be a moment when he would be the bigger fool after all.

“And don’t you have anything better to do than bug me, Astarion?”, you asked to keep him talking when a small golden glint drew your eye to a shelf behind the enormous desk. That must be it. Now you would only need to figure out the perfect moment to make a run for it.

Your eyes focused on Astarion again who was still very comfortably lounging on the big chair. He was currently lazily twisting around one of his ankles to draw circles into the air with one of his booted feet while he was gazing upon the nails of his free hand.

“Why, of course not, my love”, he replied and drew up one of his eyebrows as he looked back at you. “I was just in the area, when some of my crew picked up noise about a ragged bunch who seemed to be pirates trying to collect information about this neat little ship. And the descriptions they gave could really only fit one dirty pirate scum I know”, Astarion explained and lifted his legs from the armrest. The gaze of his unusual red eyes (obviously going perfectly with his doublet) was burning into yours as he got up slowly and sauntered towards you.

“So I bought this ship and simply waited with the laid out trap”, he said playfully and shrugged one of his shoulders, rolling it around, still slowly walking towards you with the feline grace you remembered well. He held the chalice with wine casually by its rim, dangling it next to his leg.

And as you took him in now in all his glory, you couldn’t help but be awestruck. He looked regal and dangerous - simply beautiful. But more than that you were smitten with memories of the past. Not only the last encounters you’ve had that had always been intense, but also from before that. When none of you had even dreamt of putting a captain before your name. Your throat closed up as you kept thinking about that; that and what you had once been for each other.

You desperately forced your thoughts back to the task at hand while the pale captain was sill stalking towards you. Although it was becoming very hard to concentrate the closer Astarion came.

“And you did all this to impress your ex-lover, yes?”, you spat when the other man had come so close that you were almost nose to nose. Gods be damned, he was even more beautiful and breathtaking up close than you remembered.

Several different urges were rising within you fighting for dominance. Your hand balled into a fist so hard, the knuckles were turning white as you tried to suppress all of them at once.

“Some people like big gestures”, Astarion muttered and let his head wander slightly from side to side while his gaze wandered from yours to your lips and back up again.

“Well, I’m not here for a date. I’m here to steal a ship”, you mustered sharply, still desperately trying to push down your conflicting emotions.

Astarion’s red eyes sparked, almost making your heart stutter right then and there.

“But unfortunately I am now in your way”, the captain replied teasingly, one white eyebrow flicking upwards. “What are you going to do about it, Staeve my love? Stab me with your sabre, eh?”, the pale elf teased while licking over his lips and cocking his head. A smug grin was playing on his lips then. His crimson gaze was boring into you, making you gulp.

You mirrored the sardonic smile: “Oh, you mean, like the last time?” You raised an eyebrow, mirroring him, and then quickly with one of your hands made sure that your shirt was still as widely opened as usual.

Astarion’s gaze jumped to your bare chest and you saw a muscle tick in his jaw. Good to know you weren’t the only one affected by this game.

But that was your moment. You pushed your elbow against the captain’s chest hard and made him stumble back with a yelp and then a hiss. The remaining wine spilled from the goblet Astarion had dropped. Some splashed onto you but it didn’t even matter anymore.

With a leap you jumped past the chair and onto the desk and started running across it, almost slipping on the maps and papers strewn across it and face-planting on the dark wood. Jumping off the desk again you were almost at the shelf and had already spotted the small brass key.

You were so desperate to get to the tiny golden thing in time that you nearly didn’t notice the glint of silver rushing towards you. Only in the last moment did you dodge under Astarion’s rapier. The captain had obviously regained his balance quickly and rushed around the side of the navigator’s desk to come after you. A quick glance towards him confirmed that he wasn’t pleased by you so rudely interrupting your flirt.

Meanwhile, dodging the weapon had forced you to drop to your knees and make the rest of the way in a painful slide over the wooden floor boards. You crashed into the shelf, making the key drop directly into your lap. Immediately you grabbed it and jumped up again while you quickly checked that your hat was still in place. And only then did you notice that the piece of furniture had started to tip, caused by you crashing into it.

Astarion was closing in on you again. So you picked the odds that seemed to be already in your favour and grabbed the leaning shelf to throw it down completely between you and your former lover.

And then you ran, drawing your sabre, just in case, while sprinting towards the still open door of the captain’s cabin. Rushing through you slammed the door shut behind you, hoping to gain a few more moments from it.

With the key clutched in your one hand and your weapon in the other you made it to the steering wheel and fumbled the tiny key into the seemingly even tinier keyhole. “You got to be kidding me”, you whisper-screamed once more. “Big ship, tiny key - who the fuck thought of this?”

But you managed to get in the key and heard a satisfying metallic clicking noise when you turned it around. But what you also heard was the door behind you opening and crashing against the wall forcefully when Astarion kicked it open.

You quickly got up, holding firmly onto your sabre while you grabbed one end of the steering wheel and with all your force - you spun it. Finally it worked! A short relieved sigh and a thanks to no god in particular left your lips.

You turned around - and were greeted by the finely dressed captain slashing at you with his rapier again. Your sabre was not lifted a moment too early when Astarion crashed into you and threw you back against the giant wooden wheel that at least had stopped turning. The crash had drained all air from your lungs and the wood was now painfully pressing into your back. You had lost your balance and were unfavourably forced to lean backwards while your boots were trying to find stable footing again.

Astarion’s rapier and your sabre were crossed above your head causing the metal to screech awfully while you were powering against each other. Astarion had thrown his other hand to your throat and was choking you while you tried to stop him from doing that with your own free hand. He was completely feral - probably as mad about you not playing along with his plans for the night as you throwing furniture onto him.

Not really the ideal reunion for former acquaintances, you had to agree. But the two of you had a history to perpetuate when it came to hurting each other in any kind of way possible. Today would be no different.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, your inner voice reminded you that it had indeed been right about the upcoming disaster. But you brushed it off, at least things stayed interesting this way. You were kind of in a rough spot at the moment.

Normally you’d easily be stronger than Astarion but he had taken you by surprise once more - bloody bastard. So the only thing you could do right now was trying to not get your head cut off or choked to death. And you were doing kind of miserably with both, but giving up wasn’t in your nature.

“If you wanted a romantic dinner you would have only needed to ask”, you croaked at Astarion whose face was contorted into a furious grimace. “Well that and at least an apology”, you continued, “maybe then I would have considered.”

Astarion’s red eyes widened shortly and then narrowed at you again. He squeezed your throat harder. The rings on his fingers added to your discomfort.

“You are an idiot, Staeve. You could have stayed with me, become my lover and my partner in crime. At least then you wouldn’t have to steal ships and run around in rags”, the captain hissed at you. His brows were furrowed firmly, causing a deep crease between them as he stared at you from under them. Astarion’s whole face was a snarl.

“What, and only be choked by you casually? Where’s the pleasure in that?”, you mustered despite the pale fingers still closing harder around your throat. The edges of your vision were starting to blacken and your head was beginning to feel woozy. You were quickly running out of options.

“I’ll never be your lap dog, Astarion”, you managed and felt a wave of anger rise up in you as you spat out the words.

The captain kept staring at you but for a split second you saw doubt flit through his crimson eyes and his chokehold on you let up for a moment.

Immediately, you made use of that in combination with anger giving you new strength. You pushed Astarion off you with a furious scream, making him tumble back and even fall with how forceful you had pushed him in his short moment of weakness.

You stepped away from the steering wheel quickly and with sabre in hand looked around, taking in your situation. You were still in the port? Why wasn’t this damned thing moving?

Then you remembered: the sails hadn’t been lowered yet.

Cursing so viciously even a bard would have been impressed by your colourful language, you turned around on the heel of your boot and ran for the nearest rope holding up the mainsail. Without letting go of your weapon but merely flipping it around so you could use your fingers and your other hand, you unwound the rope as quickly as possible. Letting go of it when you had managed you hoped to be rewarded with the big sail coming down and getting you moving. But when you looked up you saw that the damn thing had barely moved at all. Another rope was still holding it in place.

You groaned in desperation - well, you had obviously jinxed it by calling this whole endeavour easy at the beginning. This wasn’t easy at all anymore. In fact, it was a desperate pain in the ass.

Behind you you heard steps fast approaching. And when you turned around, you saw Astarion charging at you again, rapier at the ready, face nothing but an angry mask. But this time you had more time to react. You were ready to meet him now.

Nonchalantly, you threw your sabre up into the air to flip it around. You effortlessly caught it again and steadied yourself for the oncoming blow.

And then it came: the fine, thin blade thrust directly towards your neck. But you dodged the strike easily and struck the rapier away from your body, making it scrape along the edge of your sabre. The force with which Astarion had struck against you and that of your counter strike almost made the captain lose balance immediately.

But what he lacked in strength he made up with speed and dexterity. He withdrew the rapier from where it was drawn towards the ground by you and immediately started another assault, this time aiming for your torso. You dropped your blade to parry his, but his move had only been a feint

Astarion placed another lightning-quick strike towards your hip and you could only drop your weapon to counter in the very last second by letting the rapier crash against your hilt. The force of the strike immediately let pain shoot up your whole arm and into your shoulder. But this unfortunate counter had not only hurt you. You heard Astarion’s pained moan but when you looked into his eyes he was still just as furious, if not even more.

The pale captain then elegantly spun around trying to slash you across the face. You dodged by bowing low and then finally placed your first attack by striking upwards, aiming for Astarion’s shoulder. But your opponent quickly stepped out of your reach and hissed at you, your blade missing him by a fair amount.

And finally with some distance between you, you took your chances and ran off towards the other rope still holding up the sail. Immediately, you knew you were being followed by the angry scream ringing out behind you and the rushing footsteps. When you had reached the spot you turned around again and were immediately hit in the face with the hilt of the rapier.

You groaned as you saw stars and fell back against the railing. He’d hit you squarely on the nose. And the wet feeling you noticed immediately afterwards could only mean that he had drawn blood.  But you didn’t let go of your sabre and still managed to parry Astarion’s next blows. A fine pirate you’d be if you were to give up after one hearty punch in the face. This was merely a warmup.

But Astarion’s attacks seemed almost a bit cautious now. Was he letting up? It almost seemed that he hadn’t planned to hurt you that much with the unfair blow of the wrong end of his weapon. His fault though, for taking it easy on you.

“You know you’re supposed to stab me with the pointy end, not the blunt one, right?”, you spat breathlessly between trading blows with your former lover. That again made Astarion rage with fury. Heedlessly he swung his blade at you and you once more dodged by bowing below it, only being missed by a hair now.

And then you suddenly heard rustling above you. You quickly looked up and saw the end of the rope flutter while the mainsail was finally unfolding. Apparently, the rapier strike had just cut through the last string attached holding you captive in this port - good!

Astarion too had been distracted by the sudden happenings. “Shit”, he cursed under his breath. Both your weapons were lowered now as you watched the sail filling up with wind. And then with a sudden yank the ship started moving and with that threw you both against the wooden railing - hard. Your hat fell off and you could only helplessly yelp as you saw it drop into the water out of the corner of your eye.

“You’re never going to get away with this”, Astarion hissed at you as you were both grabbing to hold on and gain balance again.

“But I am already getting away with it”, you grinned back while you felt more blood run from your nose into your mouth. A quick glance confirmed that you had at least steered well enough and the ship was moving away from the docks.

“Even if you are, you are never going to beat me”, the pale captain hissed again while he was pushing away from the railing and raising his weapon again. He was stumbling a bit but he wouldn’t give up, same as you.

“I don’t have to”, you replied and gritted your teeth as you too took up a fighting stance again. You were fairly sure you couldn’t keep going much longer but you still had to rid yourself of this unwanted guest.

Astarion looked in confusion at you while he made no move to attack you while you were still arranging yourself - gentleman’s agreement.

“I just need to be a pain in your ass so you’ll never forget what you’ve done to me”, you finished and licked over your lips, tasting copper and baring your teeth at him for just a moment.

For a quick second Astarion’s shoulders dropped and you saw hurt and guilt flash over his face. But it was quickly gone and replaced with anger once more as he rushed towards you in a final effort.

You stood your ground and watched him come with determination on your face. With a mighty blow of your own you met Astarion’s blade. And then it was a measure of strength again as your blades were pressing against each other. Astarion’s face was a grimace of pain and anger while he immediately went to support the blade with both his hands. You easily held yourself against him now. You’d always been the stronger one.

“We really have to stop meeting like this, love”, you said with a grin although your whole body was hurting now and in your mind and in your chest conflicting emotions were also still battling each other. You wanted to push him away for good as much as you wanted to pull him closer. Astarion just scoffed in response with his face twisted in pain. Both of your arms were shivering from the effort.

You were still torn between pushing and pulling - so you opted for something in between.

With a swift movement you withdrew yourself and your blade, causing Astarion to stumble forward caused by the sudden loss of resistance.

And that was your opening. With your free hand you grabbed the front of his doublet forcefully and pulled him even closer towards you while Astarion’s eyes widened in shock. But you hadn’t planned to hurt him - or not as he probably expected.

You dragged him over to you and crushed your mouth to Astarion’s lips that were already opened in surprise. The captain gasped when your mouths met but you didn’t leave him time to readjust. You let your tongue slip into his mouth and kissed him: passionately, forcefully but still meaning more to please than to hurt. And Astarion took you up on it, welcoming your kiss and giving in, even slowly moving closer. It was another show of strength but this time you won easily.

When you had almost forgotten what you had actually planned to do, you curtly stepped away sideways, letting go of Astarion. But not without noticing the glazed over look in the pale captain’s red eyes. His blade was lowered now, as were his defences in this instant. You saw the wishful yearning on your former lover’s eyes and knew that it was mirrored on your face, probably with a huge blush too.

But you had come here to steal a ship - and a ship you would steal.

“Thanks for buying me this gift”, you whispered and then with a quick and forceful movement pushed Astarion - whose face only managed to change to confusion - over the railing and off the ship.

You heard him yelp and then a big splash of water. iImmediately, you leaned over the railing to check if he was okay. After all, you had only meant to get him off your newly acquired property. To your relief you quickly spotted Astarion coming up from his plunge. His wet curls were hanging around his face now as you saw the hate and the fury on his face.

“You can have my hat if you can find it”, you screamed as the vessel was quickly moving away from where you saw a flash of Astarion’s curls in the dark water.

“STAEVE!”, he screamed. “YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” The anger in his voice was blood curdling. Good thing you were quickly moving away from him. You were pretty sure he’d find a painful way to kill you in this instant, given the opportunity.

“WE WILL MEET AGAIN AND I WILL MAKE YOU PAY!”, was the last thing you heard before you turned away from the railing. “Bet”, you replied only to yourself and walked over to the steering wheel. You looked up at the stars and checked if you were on your planned course to pick up your crew.

Then you went below deck of the Absolute to go find some desperately needed liquor.

By the time you’d reach the rest of your crew you’d be blackout drunk. Not only because you wanted to celebrate being captain of a new ship now, but mainly to forget the captain of another.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess

[strangesmallbard]

bg3 characters if they worked at publix/safeway/your grocery store of choice:

karlach: in charge of anything that involves moving heavy objects between locations, but also works produce. LOVES helping old ladies take their groceries to the car; will accidentally abandon the vegetables at least once per shift. (she does apologize to the vegetables.) also is a pallet stacking master in the most haphazard configurations that, somehow, miraculously never fall over. frequently posts her monstrosities on r/publix, alongside a selfie of her giving a cheeky thumbs up.

wyll: store manager, in his second year of a master’s degree in public policy. optimistic like a sword is optimistic. WILL make sure you take your mandated break and will hand out store giftcards for a job well done. does not suffer customers who behave badly. is roommates and longtime best friends with karlach; the energy they exude while together either makes your shift bearable or unbearable, depending.

shadowheart: works the in-store coffee counter. probably should not because she always looks vaguely disgusted, annoyed, or bored. the dark circles under her eyes are always there no matter how many espresso shots she sips. has anonymously complained to corporate about the store’s music choices. every new employee thinks they have a shot with her until she hits them with the 👁️😐 did you need something? 👁️😐 and they slink away, feeling chastised for reasons unknown.

minthara: works the meat and/or fish counter. smokes seventeen packs per mandated break. always smells a little bit like red meat. has the most insane combat stories but it’s completely unclear whether she’s a veteran or just someone who gets into situations on purpose. every 20-something employee is at least mildly obsessed with her whole thing, but she’ll only humor karlach. no one knows where she lives.

lae’zel: 22-year-old grocery team lead. typically works the 5pm-11pm shift, but still obviously runs that shit like a navy seal base. has encyclopedic knowledge of grocery store codes and also lore. during mandated breaks she can be found doing one-armed pushups, argueflirting with shadowheart, or scribbling poetry in a notebook. she’s also the pitcher on her college’s varsity baseball team; everyone shows up to her big games and she fails at not looking overwhelmed by joy every time.

jaheira: beloved customer service manager, knows literally everything and everyone. taught wyll everything he knows about not suffering customers who behave badly. often goes mountain climbing with her scary 39-year-old girlfriend astele who owns the smoke shop next door. sells the best weed you’ll ever smoke in your life.

gale: day shift manager counterpart to lae’zel, postdoc who needs the job to make rent obviously. constantly gives aisle directions for the store location he worked during undergrad and shelves the soup cans all wrong. WILL show you photos of his cat. constantly recognized by his booktube fans (he also streams sims 4 builds of classic sci fi/fantasy book locations). he does wear his own merch underneath the uniform.

halsin: that customer who’s very polite but frequently and inexplicably barefoot. he also teaches woodworking and pottery at the youth center down the road. sometimes brings his regular kids to the store for a field trip and those little bags of cheetos. grows the weed that jaheira sells.

astarion: does not work at the grocery store. he worked at the grocery store for two weeks, during which he showed up late every day, insulted customers, and generally behaved like a cat ripped away from his ball of yarn. he only lasted those two weeks because gale (roommate/situationship) begged wyll to give him another chance in a different department. he still lives with gale while finishing up a law degree and can be found loitering in the grocery store, bitching about The Circumstances with shadowheart.

[ask-the-pale-elf]

"Of all the stars in the night sky, you are still my favourite, little star." While certainly not the best at all this emotional stuff she had been searching for a while to be able to tell Astarion in nicer words that she didn't think he was all that bad. Maybe this would work? Ugh why did feelings have to be so hard to get out. - E

Astarion couldn't help but stare into you as such soft, beautiful words strolled out of your mouth. You said them so easily, so tenderly, as if it was effortless to describe him like that.

His red eyes widened and just for a moment, he didn’t feel the need to “smile”. He didn’t want to pretend that he was soaking it up like the “seductress” he forced himself to be. He just wanted to be in this moment, for a little while longer.

As you finished, he stared at you for just a second longer before looking up at the stars. It was often one of the few solaces he was afforded back when he was prowling among the shadows. But even then, nothing in the city could compare to the brilliant night sky out in the wilderness.

How the inky blackness turned into a rich navy blue with bright, shimmering stars dancing along the sky. It was beautiful, and you were beautiful.

Not just for your looks, and not just for your sincere words, but how all of that and with so many other things made up you. That’s what made you so beautiful to him and… he didn’t know what to do.

He closed his eyes and just relaxed into the ground, his hand edging closer to yours. While the exhale of a deep breath, Astarion whispered, “Thank you. I’m not used to ‘sincere’ but… perhaps you could help with that.”

[whatacaitastrophe]

If You Were Mine

Summary: Four times Astarion realized he might be in love with Fallon, and the one time he was ready to do something about it, but Gale got there first.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Gale x Tav (Female), Astarion x Tav (Female)

AO3 Link: Here

Song Inspiration: "Can I Be Him" - James Arthur

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: Pining (so much pining), angst, mentions of past abuse, denial of feelings, realization of feelings, drinking, canon-compliant

“You can kill it can’t you? Like you did the others?” Astarion asked the elven female who stumbled upon him as she emerged from the destruction of the nautiloid crash. The crash that (somehow) Astarion, this elf, and the half-elf and human man who accompanied her, and god knows who else all managed to survive. Astarion had more questions than answers at this point, but he knew one thing: He’d seen this elf walking around the ship, so surely she had something to do with the tadpole that now resided in his brain. Though Astarion was fairly certain that the very same tadpole was the only reason he hadn’t burst into flames yet, so if this elf had something to do with it, maybe he should be thanking her instead of luring her into a trap.

The elf smirked at him, sizing him up, her violet eyes piercing Astarion down to his very soul. “Easily. Stand back.” Yes, if she knew how to kill them, then she must be familiar enough with his abductor’s to have had something to do with it. Astarion could not help himself– his eyes roamed over the elf’s body as she walked past him to assess the threat he’d completely fabricated. 

She was beautiful— her tight leather armor clung to the curves of her body like a second skin, and if Astarion was being perfectly honest, he could not remember the last time he laid eyes on a backside that perfect. It was an observation that took him aback because, quite frankly, Astarion also couldn’t remember the last time he’d cared enough to truly notice. 

Under Cazador’s control, Astarion just went through the motions. Step one: spout pretty words he didn’t mean to get them back to the palace. Step two: sleep with them so they’d lower their guard. Step three: hand them over to Cazador. Lather, rinse, repeat. Out here though, so far, it appeared as though Astarion was far enough away from Cazador to be free of his control. Perhaps his little stowaway was also the cause for that as well. 

Astarion watched the woman carefully as she crept slowly around the corner, waiting for a mind-flayer to appear. She jumped slightly when the boar burst out of the bushes instead and that’s when Astarion struck. The blade of his dagger was against her neck and they were on the ground mere seconds later. “Ah, ah, ah, shhh. Don’t fight it, darling,” Astarion warned her before glancing over to her companions. “Stay back or I’ll slit her throat.”

The dark haired man glared at Astarion, and out of the corner of his eye, Astarion could have sworn he saw fire crackling on the man’s fingertips. A magic caster of some sort— likely a wizard based on his attire. “Do that, and I will incinerate you.”

So it was definitely fire, then, and the protective look in the wizard’s eyes meant he and the woman with Astarion’s blade against her neck were either already romantically involved, or this man wanted them to be. Whatever the case, Astarion just hoped it would keep the wizard from doing anything stupid. 

This close to her face, the first thing Astarion noticed was the smattering of freckles across her cheeks— wild and uncoordinated, much like the navy streaks in her raven hair that were falling out of the ponytail atop her head. There was a scar across her nose and cheek, and for a split second, Astarion found himself wondering how she got it. She was even more beautiful up close. What a pity he was probably going to have to kill her. 

“I saw you on the ship, didn’t I? Nod.”

The woman had the audacity to shake her head. Astarion’s nostril’s flared. “Don’t lie to me— ah!” 

Suddenly their minds were connected, and he was seeing flashes of a life that was not his: a man with the same violet eyes as this woman, bleeding out in her arms. A piece of parchment with a singular name and a pouch jingling with coin sliding across a bar top towards her. A man leering at her, offering to buy her a drink, and agreeing to go upstairs with her. Then, his dead body being dragged toward a balcony before getting tossed into the Chionthar. 

Whoever this woman was, she was a paid assassin, and if she hadn’t head-butted him while he was distracted, Astarion probably would have noticed the arousal that accompanied the fear he felt knowing that the only reason he was still alive was because he’d gotten the upper hand, and tackled her to the ground first. 

Her name was Fallon, Astarion learned, and the moment she confirmed that she too had been ready to kill him before their tadpoles took them on a trip down memory lane, Astarion decided he would follow her anywhere. 

—

Finding Gandrel in the swamp was unexpected. Fallon led them there because she wanted to investigate the hag they’d run into, and the woman she may or may not have been holding hostage, but a wrong turn led their group up a hill and right to the Gur hunter who admitted he was hunting a vampire spawn. 

There was no way this man was looking for anybody other than Astarion, and there was no way Gandrel hadn’t been sent by Cazador to find him. Astarion did his best to quell the panic rising within himself— his new companions did not yet know he was a vampire. One word from Gandrel, one mention of Astarion’s name, and his life would probably be forfeit. Fallon had let Astarion do all the talking up to this point, and she either did not notice or did not care as he slowly reached for his dagger. 

“I’ve dealt with your kind before, you know,” Astarion said coolly to the hunter as he took a step forward. Then, without another moment’s hesitation, Astarion swiftly grabbed the man by the back of his head and drove the dagger into his eye, smirking as Gandrel gurgled his last breath before dropping lifelessly to the ground. “It wasn’t a good experience.” 

Gale, the wizard from the beach, made a horrified noise. Karlach, their fiery new tiefling friend shouted and swore loudly. Fallon, on the other hand, just stared at Astarion in shock. Then, she took a deep breath and let out an exasperated sigh. “Please tell me you had a good reason for doing that.” 

Astarion pulled his blade from the dead man’s eye and wiped the blood on his trousers. “The man was dangerous. Trust me, I did us a favor.” 

Another exasperated sigh as Fallon closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her forefinger. “Next time you decide to murder someone, at least warn me before you do it.” 

Astarion raised his eyebrow and smirked at her. “I will definitely, probably, consider thinking about it.” 

Fallon rolled her eyes at him, but Astarion couldn’t help but notice the amused smile she was trying to suppress— likely to keep Gale and Karlach from freaking out further. For whatever reason, she trusted Astarion. Moreover, she seemed to like him. 

That was the moment Astarion decided he was going to seduce Fallon. For protection, of course— certainly not because he actually wanted her. Having Fallon on his side would certainly make things easier if Astarion’s companions ever found out he was a vampire. Yes, survival was all that mattered, he didn’t want her. 

Right?

—

Astarion observed the party happening in their camp with a sour look on his face. The bottle of wine he’d swiped from the wagon the tieflings brought with them was…well, it wasn’t the worst wine Astarion had ever had, but it certainly wasn’t good, either. The gratitude from the tieflings was endless. One by one, they all made their way to his tent, profusely thanking him for saving their lives. A few were even emboldened enough by the alcohol to make a pass at Astarion, offering to thank him in a more intimate setting, to which he not-so-politely declined. No, there was only one person Astarion was interested in sleeping with tonight. 

It was the perfect opportunity. After he failed to drink her blood while she slept, there was an energy shift in Astarion’s relationship with Fallon. They’d come to an agreement: he could drink her blood once every couple of days to maintain his strength, and he could drink the blood of as many of their enemies as he pleased. The blood of their enemies seemed to be endless, and while it sated Astarion’s hunger well enough (certainly more than the blood of animals), it never left Astarion feeling truly satisfied. The only blood that truly satisfied Astarion these days was Fallon’s. He craved her blood in a way he’d never craved anything, and he could only chalk it up to the fact that she was the first thinking creature Astarion ever drank from. Fallon’s blood was more intoxicating than the finest wine, and Astarion often found himself counting the days until he was once again allowed to press his mouth to her neck and bite the spot that made Fallon’s breath hitch and her heart rate increase. 

Not only that, but whenever Astarion flirted with Fallon, she flirted back. Fallon entertained his ridiculous musings about what their companions’ blood might taste like (even if she’d confessed she would take a bite from Gale, of all people, given the chance). She indulged Astarion’s vanity when she caught him fruitlessly looking in a mirror, describing his features to him in great (extremely complimentary) detail. Every conversation Astarion had with the elven woman was planting the seeds for the move he intended to make this evening. 

Astarion couldn’t help but admire Fallon as she worked the room, graciously accepting the gratitude from the tieflings and the druid, Halsin, who joined their party after they saved him from the goblin camp. 

“Ridiculous, isn’t it?” The sound of Shadowheart’s voice made Astarion jump slightly, as he’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that the cleric had made her way over to his tent, and was standing beside him observing the party. 

Astarion looked over at Shadowheart, tilting his head. “A lot of this night is ridiculous, so I’m going to need you to be more specific, darling.” 

Shadowheart nodded over to Fallon, who was currently laughing at something the bard– Alina, Alanna, Alfira– was saying to her. “The way they’re all falling at her feet,” Shadowheart clarifies. “Do you think she even realizes every single person at this party would take her to bed, if given the opportunity?” 

An amused smirk appeared on Astarion’s face, and raised an eyebrow at the cleric. “Even you?” 

“Caught that, did you?” She chuckled as she took a long drink from her wine bottle. “Why not? It’s a party, after all. Though I don’t think I’m her type.” 

“Fair enough,” He conceded. “To answer your question…if she does realize it, she’s very good at hiding it.” Astarion studied Fallon as she said goodnight to Alfira, leaving the bard with a longing look in her eyes. Fallon looked over to where Astarion and Shadowheart were standing, and a bright smile appeared on her face as she made eye contact with Astarion. 

“Good luck.” Shadowheart said, patting Astarion on the shoulder as she turned to take her leave.

“Not staying to converse with our fearless leader?”

“And bear witness to you trying to convince her to come to bed with you? I’d rather vomit.” Shadowheart teased, and Astarion frowned. 

“What are you–” He asked, and Shadowheart gave him a sly grin as she walked away. 

“I did say everyone at this party, didn’t I?” Well, she got him there. 

Astarion shook his head as the cleric walked away, and drank from his bottle of wine. 

“Was I interrupting something?” Fallon asked as she approached.

“Hardly. Shadowheart was just saying goodnight.” He took another sip of wine and winced.

“Why the face?” 

“The tieflings don’t exactly have good taste in wine.” He scoffed. 

Without another word, Fallon reached out and took the bottle of wine from his hand and drank from it. When she lowered the bottle from her lips, Fallon was trying not to sputter. “It’s not that bad.” 

“You’re a bad liar, darling.” Astarion chuckled as he took the bottle back. 

The smile returned to her face as Fallon broke out into laughter. “Gods, it’s so bad. I’ve been drinking from a bottle I’ve got stowed in my tent all night.” 

Astarion faked an appalled look as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You mean to tell me you’ve got something better than this plonk and you’re not sharing? Darling, I’m hurt.” 

“To be fair, I got it from Gale.”

“Got it, or stole it?” Astarion asked mischievously. 

“He gave it to me– you and I both know I would never be able to steal it without getting caught. That’s what I have you for.” Fallon grinned. 

“Is that all you keep me around for, darling? Petty theft?” Astarion flirted, taking a step closer to her.

“You’re also pretty good at killing people without getting caught.” Fallon conceded as she took Astarion’s bottle of wine from him again and took another drink. 

“And…what would you say if I were to suggest you and I sneak off later to find a little death without getting caught?” Astarion asked smoothly, not even bothering to hide the suggestive smirk on his face. This was it, the moment of truth: it was time to see if all of the seeds he’d spent the last fortnight planting were going to take root. 

Astarion watched Fallon carefully as the slow realization of his suggestion washed over her. Despite the fact that there was a raucous party happening around them, all sound evaporated as he stared at Fallon. Astarion didn’t need to breathe, so the act of holding his breath in anticipation was simply that: an act. Fallon’s expression softened, and she reached forward and pressed the bottle of wine back into Astarion’s hand. 

“You don’t have to do this, Astarion.”

Her response was not what he’d been expecting, and the suggestive expression on Astarion’s face faltered as he took a step back from Fallon. “What are you talking about?”

Fallon laughed softly. “I know what you’re doing…and I’m telling you that you don’t have to.”

Astarion stared at her, completely disarmed by her words. “I don’t know what you–”

“Please, I’m not an idiot. You think the only way to guarantee your safety is to seduce me. Right?” 

The vampire’s jaw slackened as he stared at the ranger in front of him, completely stunned into silence. “I–” Astarion stammered before closing his mouth again.

“Well, you don’t. You’re my friend, Astarion. Barring the fact that you’ve already saved my ass more than once, being my friend means I’ve got your back. Your protection is already secured. I promise. No sneaking off for a little death required.” 

“Okay.” Astarion said stupidly, all other words completely lost in the shock of this woman reading him so thoroughly. 

Fallon took Astarion’s free hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “Have a good night, Astarion.”

The vampire was too stunned to say anything else as Fallon walked away, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she did. Astarion saw the way her posture and gait changed as she made her way to Gale’s tent. Fallon wasn’t walking over to see the wizard, she was sauntering, and Gale was staring at her with his mouth slightly open as she approached. 

Astarion had gathered from the pining looks Gale often gave Fallon when she wasn’t looking that the wizard wanted the ranger, but it never occurred to him that Fallon might want Gale, too. Astarion watched their entire exchange: the way Fallon’s face lit up when Gale cracked a joke, the way she placed her hand on his bicep as they made intense eye contact, the brief look of confusion on Gale’s face that slowly turned into elation as Fallon spoke. 

Then, the wizard stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Fallon’s cheek before she turned to walk away, and a surge of jealousy clawed its way into Astarion’s chest as the ranger blushed, a lovesick grin plastered across her face as she went to talk to Karlach. Soon a dull ache replaced the jealousy in Astarion’s heart, and he frowned deeply.

Maybe his desire to sleep with Fallon was about more than just gaining her favor and protection. 

Astarion downed the rest of his wine and dropped the empty bottle to the ground. “Shit.”

– 

“I assume he belongs to you?” Araj Oblodra addressed Fallon, but she was referring to Astarion. The blood dealer from Menzoberranzan wanted him to bite her, because she wanted to know what it would feel like. 

Fallon folded her arms across her chest, and shifted her weight to her left side. Astarion may have been standing behind her, but he knew that stance. It was the one Fallon often took when someone they encountered said something so utterly ridiculous that she was almost in disbelief that they could be so stupid. 

“Excuse me? He is his own person.” There was a coldness to her tone, and Astarion swore the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. What she said, though, hearing Fallon say those words, it warmed Astarion’s heart like it was still beating. 

“I’m sure he believes that. How utterly adorable,” Araj turned her attention toAstarion. “Do you have a name, spawn?”

“Um, Astarion, but hold on—“ He could feel the panic starting to rise within him as he listened to Araj offer them an extremely valuable potion in exchange for a bite from Astarion. This woman saw him as an object and nothing more: something to be used for her personal enjoyment, something to be exploited. 

Astarion declined, and that was not what Araj wanted to hear. That was the moment Astarion’s head started to spin. He felt separated from his body, like he was watching this play out from the rafters, not like he was actually there and participating in the conversation as Araj berated him for saying no. 

He didn’t come back to reality until he saw the peak of Fallon’s ponytail somewhat obstructing his vision, because she’d stepped in between Astarion and Araj. 

“He said no, now back the fuck off or the only blood you’ll be dealing with will be your own after I spill it all over this gods damned floor.” Fallon threatened, and Astarion felt that warm feeling in his heart again. 

Araj made another rude comment about Astarion being a spawn, about him being property, and before Astarion could truly register what was happening, Fallon lunged at the drow, only to be caught around her middle by Karlach. 

“Steady soldier, we’ve got bigger fish to fry.” The tiefling reminded their leader as Araj drank an invisibility potion and fled. Not that the potion really made any difference— Fallon could still see the drow, courtesy of Volo, even if the rest of them couldn’t.

“I don’t care. I’ll kill her and make it look like a fucking accident. I know how.” Fallon fumed as she struggled against Karlach’s grip. 

“Perhaps we should go back to camp for the evening to clear our heads before our cover gets blown and reconvene tomorrow.” Gale suggested anxiously as he peered around to make sure nobody in the adjacent rooms to Araj’s workshop was aware that anything had gone awry. 

“Fine, but if she’s here when we come back tomorrow I can’t promise I’ll let her live.” Fallon seethed, and the warm feeling in Astarion’s heart intensified. 

Several hours later, once everyone else had gone to bed, Fallon approached him. 

“Are you okay?” She asked gently as she sat down beside Astarion outside his tent. 

That was certainly the question, wasn’t it? “I should have given her what she wanted,” Astarion said quietly as he averted his eyes from Fallon. “That potion could have been an asset.” 

“No potion is worth having if you have to force yourself to do something you don’t want to do.” Fallon countered. 

“There’s so much at stake, though. My whole life since becoming a vampire has been about using my looks to get what I wanted—what Cazador wanted— I should have just gritted my teeth through a single moment of unpleasantness and moved on. That’s…that’s what I used to do. It should have been easy.”

“It wasn’t easy this time because you’re stronger now than you used to be. You’re not a slave anymore— you’re free.” Astarion looked at Fallon and he saw the pride shining in her eyes. She was right. Astarion was definitely not the person he was when they met, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized this was largely in part to having met Fallon in the first place. “It’s because of you, you know. You—you’ve made me realize that I deserve better. I can’t say I know what the future holds for me, but I know that whatever decisions I make will be mine; and no one can take that from me.”

Fallon smiled genuinely at him and Astarion couldn’t help but smile back. There was just something about her smile that seemed to brighten up even this land shrouded in darkness. “While I wish I could take all the credit, I wouldn’t have gotten through to you if that strength wasn’t already inside you somewhere.” She leaned over and nudged him with her shoulder. 

“Gods, you really can’t take a compliment, can you?” Astarion teased with a soft laugh. Not once in the short time that Astarion had known Fallon had he ever witnessed the woman receive a compliment and just say thank you— it was always thank you, followed by some ridiculous reason she didn’t deserve said compliment, or complete denial she deserved the recognition at all. 

Fallon let out a sharp laugh. “Caught on, have you?”

“Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why do you always do that? Deflect when someone says something nice about you.” Astarion elaborated as he studied Fallon closely. Her eyes began rapidly looking everywhere except at Astarion as she sat next to him quietly. 

When Fallon finally made eye contact with Astarion again, there was a sadness in her eyes that Astarion understood all too well. “The same reason you do it: when someone spends all their time telling you that you aren’t worthy of kind words, eventually, you begin to believe them.” 

Though Astarion had come to count Fallon amongst the few he could call a friend, this was the first time Fallon offered up any sort of real information about herself (and her life before they were abducted) to Astarion and suddenly, her rejection at the party with the tieflings made even more sense. The overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around the raven-haired elf and tell her just how worthy and wonderful she was flooded Astarion’s body. Instead, he just stared at Fallon and nodded sympathetically, because doing anything more than that would mean admitting out loud that he cared for Fallon far more than he ever intended to. 

Another moment of silence passed before Astarion stood up and disappeared into his tent momentarily. When he returned, he had a bottle of wine in his hand. He uncorked it and took a long drink before passing the bottle to Fallon with a soft smile.

“Here’s to being better than they ever told us we’d be.” Astarion toasted.

Fallon smiled at him as she took the bottle, and just like that, warmth flooded Astarion’s heart again and all of the atrocities of the day began fading away. 

Maybe, someday, he would be worthy of that smile.

Maybe, someday, he would be worthy of her.

– 

“You’re running out of time, you know.” Shadowheart said to Astarion one morning when they were alone at camp. Fallon, Gale, Karlach, and Wyll had gone to Moonrise Towers to rescue more tieflings, and Lae’zel was at The Last Light Inn, discussing battle strategies with Jaheira and the Harpers. 

Astarion gave the cleric a look. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” 

“Are you sure?” Shadowheart asked slyly, which only exacerbated Astarion’s confusion. 

“Yes, I am quite sure.” 

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about Fallon. You’re running out of time to tell her how you feel.” 

Despite the calm look that appeared on Astarion’s face when Shadowheart explained herself, deep inside, Astarion was panicking. How did Shadowheart know? Surely it hadn’t been obvious…had it? Astarion didn’t think he’d been treating Fallon any differently since the day they met Araj Oblodra. If anything, he’d given her more space. Astarion scoffed. 

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about, darling.” Astarion said casually. 

Another eye roll from the cleric. “Perhaps I was wrong, then. However, on the offhand chance that you’re lying, and I’m not wrong, Gale declared his intentions to Fallon yesterday. After a bloody battle, of all things.”

Despite the neutral look he managed to keep on his face, Astarion’s heart dropped into his stomach. Gale and Fallon had been exchanging bashful smiles and pining glances ever since the tiefling party a few weeks ago, but Astarion didn’t think Gale had the stones to actually do anything about it. Then again, something changed about the way Gale carried himself after that old wizard showed up and instructed Gale to blow himself up at Mystra’s request. Perhaps Gale was going to go through with it, so he needed to strike while the iron was hot. 

If that was the case, how dare Gale use her in that way and pass it off as his dying wish? Fallon had a big heart– Astarion had seen it in the way she rushed to help those who needed it and to avenge the people that were lost. He saw it in the way Fallon looked out for Astarion and the rest of their companions, taking the time to actually get to know them and make sure everyone was doing alright, promising to help solve everyone’s individual problems on top of dealing with her own. It was obvious she had feelings for the wizard, and that Gale was content with taking advantage of her feelings and her kindness…to use Fallon and discard her so he could be a martyr for his goddess…it made Astarion’s blood boil. 

If that was the case, Astarion would kill Gale himself. 

“Astarion?” Shadowheart waved her hand in front of the vampire’s face, snapping him out of his thoughts and back to the present. 

“Sorry, darling, it’s been a while since I ate and the hunger kind of took over my thoughts for a moment.”

Shadowheart smirked at him as she saw through the lie– Astarion fed on Fallon yesterday, and the ranger had the bitemarks to show for it. “Right…well, seeing as I have no intention of being your next meal, I’ll leave you to it. Just…don’t wait too long before you go hunting, alright? I’d hate for you to miss out on something good because your prey got away from you.” 

Astarion shot Shadowheart a grateful look, both for not pressing him to verbally admit he had feelings for Fallon, and also for encouraging him to do something about it. “Thank you.” 

The rescue mission was a success, and when Fallon, Gale, Karlach, and Wyll returned to camp everyone was in high spirits. Not only had they managed to save all of the tieflings captured by the Absolutists, but also a group of Ironhand gnomes, with no casualties. It seemed like as good a time as any to try and talk to Fallon– not that Astarion had any idea what he was going to say to her. These feelings, his desire for her, it was all foreign and uncharted territory and there was at least a fifty percent chance that Astarion would end up not saying anything at all and making up a reason he wanted to speak with her. 

Astarion and Fallon were usually the last two awake– being elves meant they naturally required less sleep than everyone else. Once it seemed like everyone had gone to bed, Astarion momentarily retired to his tent to grab a bottle of wine, certain that alcohol would calm his nerves (plus telling Fallon he loved her over a glass of wine felt like perhaps it was an appropriate romantic gesture). Upon exiting his tent, however, Astarion was greeted with the sight of an astral projection of Gale, and it was speaking to Fallon. 

Shit. 

What were the chances that what he’d just witnessed wasn’t exactly what Astarion thought it might be? Something told him the probability was low. Astarion hung back until the vision of Gale evaporated before making his way over to the elf, bottle of wine still in hand (just in case). “What was that about? Is the wizard suddenly too good for in-person conversation?” Astarion asked as he approached Fallon from behind. The ranger jumped, clearly not aware that anybody had seen the exchange that just occurred, and when she turned to face Astarion, her cheeks were flushed and there was a giddy smile on her face. 

“Oh! Hi! Gale was just– he, um– he invited me to come meet him somewhere private. I guess he wants to show me something?” 

So it was exactly what Astarion thought it might be. Fuck. He was too late. “Show you something, hm? I can only imagine what he could possibly want to show you in private.” Astarion smirked as he teased Fallon. 

“Shut up.” The elf in front of him rolled her eyes and giggled– Astarion was certain that not only had he never heard Fallon laugh like that before, but it was one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard. Her eyes drifted to the bottle of wine in Astarion’s hand. “Did you need something?”

Astarion shook his head. “I wanted to see if you were interested in a nightcap to celebrate your win today, but it sounds like you’re otherwise engaged, so I’ll be off.”

“I’m sorry.” Fallon apologized, bless her, not that he really had any idea why she felt the need to do so. 

“Not to worry.. Another time,” He waved her off with his free hand and an easy smile, hopeful that it masked the fact that he felt like he was dying inside. “Have fun, darling.” With a wink, Astarion turned on his heels and walked back to his tent, his face falling the second his back was to Fallon. 

Fallon and Gale did not return to camp until the next morning when everyone was already around the campfire eating breakfast. They were hand in hand, and Fallon giggled softly as Gale leaned in to whisper something in her ear before kissing her cheek. 

“It’s about gods-damned time!” Karlach hollered upon seeing them.

“I, too, was growing tired of the longing glances the two of you gave each other when the other was not looking. I’m glad you both finally saw sense. Perhaps now you’ll be able to focus on the problems at hand.” Lae’zel agreed, and Astarion couldn’t help but snort with laughter. Even when she was congratulating someone, she managed to insult them. It was brilliant.

“Are you going to be okay?” Shadowheart’s voice filled Astarion’s mind as she used their tadpole connection to wordlessly communicate with him. 

Astarion did not look at Shadowheart, not wanting to give away that they were having a private conversation in their minds. “Like I said yesterday, darling, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He saw no reason to admit his true feelings to his friend, especially not now– not when they officially didn’t matter. Fallon made her choice, and her choice was not Astarion. 

He watched as Gale escorted Fallon to her tent, likely so she could change out of yesterday’s clothes, the dull ache that had taken root in his chest the night before intensifying tenfold as Gale tucked his finger beneath Fallon’s chin and kissed her deeply before making his way to his own tent. The smile on Fallon’s face was bright enough that Astarion was certain even the shadows of this cursed place would shy away. 

“She looks happy.” Shadowheart’s voice filled Astarion’s mind again, and he sighed. 

“She deserves nothing less.”

Once upon a time, Astarion might have made a play for Fallon’s heart anyway, her relationship with Gale be damned. Ironically, the reason Astarion now listened to his moral compass was entirely due to Fallon’s influence. Without even realizing it (or maybe she did), Fallon had turned Astarion into a better person, and because of that, he was going to let his feelings for her go. If all Fallon was able to offer him was her friendship then Astarion would be grateful for it. He just hoped that seeing her happy with someone else would eventually stop feeling like someone ripped open his chest and threw his heart on the ground. 

How sad it was, to finally feel alive again, and not be able to share it with the person who made him feel that way.

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

"Star" A cute one shot fluffy fic of Astarion and Esme being sweet together <3

Astarion finally agrees to let Esme paint his portrait. He had no idea what to expect.

Esme was mixing paints on her palette in comfortable silence while Astarion sat patiently on his bedroll. "What pose would you like me to do?" "Just do whatever you feel comfortable with!" Esme says, her attention on making sure she's got the perfect shades of yellow. "Hm, I'd be much more comfortable in the nude" Astarion teases. He was wearing some old robes they found in abandoned house in the wilds. Not very luxurious, but it would do.

"Oh, hush you. Now is hardly the time for that type of talk. Portrait painting is very serious work!" "I'm sure it is darling." He stands and wraps his arms around her, landing a small peck on the top of her head. Then, he gets a stool and sits in front of her easel, waiting for her command. "Alright now, you can talk, but try not to squirm around too much". "Can do. So um, when did you start painting?" Astarion asks. "I..Don't know exactly. It feels like I always have". She places her paintbrush in a dark navy blue shade, and starts pressing light and quick strokes onto the canvas.

"Painting and music seem to be the only things I've been able to hold onto" Esme says, her mind clearly elsewhere. She looks over and studies Astarion for a moment. Taking in each of his features. "What made you change your mind about me painting your portrait?" Esme asks, taking out another wider brush and dipping it in white paint. "I'm not sure. I know you've described to me what I look like in great detail. But I want to know what you see when you look at me." "I will show you exactly how I see you then" Esme says with a smile. Some time passes. The quiet sounds of the night, some light rain pittering on the tent roof, and the soft strokes of Esmes paintbrush fill the empty space. A small moment of peace. Esme is completely engrossed in her work, looking over at him every so often. He loves watching her when she's like this. The usual concern and worry on her face softens as she focuses. Her lips parted slightly. He wants nothing more than to get up from his stool and kiss her. But she looks so entranced by her work, it would be a shame to interrupt her. "Alright! Just a little white over in this bit and...Done! Close your eyes for a moment". Astarion does as he's told. "Are you nervous?" "A little" "It's alright, I may have taken some artistic liberties. But this is how I see you".

The shuffling sound of Esme taking the canvas off the easel makes Astarions stomach drop. "Alright, open your eyes whenever you're ready". Astarion takes a breath, and opens his eyes to see Esme holding a painting of what looks to be a being made of pure light surrounded by a night sky. When he looks closer he can see all the features she told him about. His crimson eyes, his cheekbones, his white curls and dangerous smile. But everything is bright and warm. The figure is posed as if reaching up to the heavens. Wearing soft silken robes made from stars that dance along his pearlescent skin. The expression on his face is hopeful and joyous. Small stars surround him leaving a trail. He is glowing. A light in a dark expanse. "Your name means 'Little Star' does it not?" Esme asks. "It does, Esme this is, beautiful. I thought you'd be just making a portait of me as I am, but this is something else" "This is you, this is how I see you" "What are you calling this painting then?" "Ssussun elgg oloth, light slays darkness." "You are one of a kind my dear, do you know that?" Astarion says. His voice close to breaking. He has never felt seen in this way. He was expecting just a regular painting of him sitting in this dingy tent in low light. Nothing like this. He hasn't thought much of himself besides being a monster for so long. A dark creature of the night, groveling and hiding in the shadows. This painting alone made him feel like more. Radiant, hopeful. "I'm glad you like it then!" Esme smiles. "You're a wonderful muse". "That's quite the understatement my dear. I love it. I'm going to put it outside for everyone to see once the paint dries...Thank you." Astarion stands and walks over to Esme, grabs the painting from her hands, sets it back on the easel carefully and pulls her into a tight embrace. His angel. His home. His sweet little Selûnite. His light in an ever growing darkness.

[artistic-anime-trash]

Astarion Headcanons Because I’m Brainrotted

Astarion had hazel colored eyes before becoming a spawn. (I think this for no other reason other than I think it suits him very well.)

He was a REALLY good magistrate actually. The jokes all are that he was shitty at his job because he was honestly fairly young (for elves anyway) but he’s a very passionate person. He doesn’t half ass anything he does, let alone his job.

As much as he acts like he hates the other spawn, I feel like he subconsciously sees himself as their older brother.

Astarion loves to pester his companions, but finds it most fun to bother Gale. Simply because Gale takes himself so seriously.

Astarion is Cazador’s favored victim, because he reminds him a lot of Vellioth. Perhaps that’s why Cazador targeted Astarion in the first place.

I like to think that Astarion got a portrait of himself painted after the game ended, just so he could know what he looks like since he can’t use a mirror.

As much as I love dad-starion content, we all know that man would want NOTHING to do with raising kids. He would much prefer to be the Aunty that spoils their nices/nephews and then immediately hands them back to their parents. 

His favorite color is navy blue. He looks SO good in navy blue.

I think he like ruffles and really flowy clothes. Like I picture him in one of these “old Hollywood” style feathered house robes.

If he listened to modern music, I feel like he’d really like Ariana Grande. I can’t explain why, just that it fits his vibe to me.

People like to ship Astarion with (literally) everyone, but I personally only see BloodWeave, HellSpawn, and HalStarion. (MAYBE Shadowheart but still not sure on that tbh.)

After he returned to Waterdeep, Gale was looking through his collection of magical items (that he meant to consume at some point) and found a Sun-Walker ring. He mailed it to Astarion with a note basically saying “forgot I had this lol”.

Astarion showed up to Gale’s home a few days later, yelled at him for being an idiot, and then gave him a hug. :)

Okay, that’s it for now lol. Might do an Ascended Astarion list later because I HAVE THINGS TO SAY