#poor astarion can't catch a break

[mumms-the-word]

In Fathoms Below - Ch. 7

Ch. 7 - Getting Underway

Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: A teensy bit of a filler chapter here. We do get to meet a new NPC character from the game though! Will it be one of your favorites? Probably not but I hope you like them anyway!

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“Astarion?” Karlach asked.

Shadowheart frowned. “Is that his name?” 

“Yeah. He told me on the submersible, before all the…” Karlach gestured vaguely. “You know.”

“I see. Well, yes, Astarion is missing. He must have slipped away during the memorial.”

“Damn,” Wyll said. “We should find him before he causes trouble.”

But Karlach shook her head. “Nah. Leave him. It’s probably the kindest thing to do, letting him go free like that.”

“You forget that a vampire’s diet comes from living creatures,” Shadowheart said. “If he can’t find anything down here, he’ll start to prey on us.”

“Then we’ll deal with that if that happens,” Karlach said. “Come on. Gortash wants us moving as soon as possible and those constructs are a pain to move when no one’s driving them.”

Gale looked over at that. “Constructs?”

“Yep. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Gale couldn’t deny a measure of curiosity, especially as he had noticed earlier that some of the cargo coming off of the cargo vessel was housed within wagons and carts. He’d thought it odd, at the time, since they had no mounts to drive or pull the carts through the Underdark, and it had taken teams of people with ropes and cords to drag the carts to shore.

Karlach led the way through the stacks of supply crates and barrels—many of which were smokepowder barrels, he realized, noting the red labels painted on their sides—until they reached a back corner of the cavern. There, standing in an odd little group, was a small herd of bronze, mechanical rothé, about seven in number.

Each of the rothé constructs were built just a bit bigger than the average rothé, which was already fairly sizable. Gale marveled at the craftsmanship that went into them as he approached one of them, studying the way the bronze metal plates that covered their outer casements interlocked and slid underneath each other, capable of a wide range of movement. Their faces appeared to be sculpted metal, entirely cosmetic, but with gem-like eyes that Gale suspected would light up and shine brightly outward to light the way forward. They weren’t alive or in motion yet, but as he bent to examine underneath one of them, he caught a glimpse of the intricate tangle of gears, cogs, and internal workings that would bring them to life. 

“Careful,” a new voice said, causing Gale to jump. He banged his head on the underneath of the rothé and swore. He heard Karlach smother a snicker behind him. 

“Ah,” the voice said. “My apologies. I was going to say you don’t want to be under the rothé once it's fired up, but I suppose it’s just as capable of harm without being animated.”

Gale backed out carefully from under the construct, rubbing the back of his head, to look around for the new voice. His gaze eventually fell on a gnome with tanned skin and dark brown hair swept back out of his face. The gnome had a handsome, pleasant face and steel-gray eyes, which were now regarding Gale with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. 

“Find anything to interest you under there?” the gnome asked, wiping his hands clean with a cloth from his belt. He was dressed like an artificer, wearing simple clothes but with a wide belt full of pockets and pouches to hold several tools and spare cogs and other items besides. He had a pair of goggles on his head, keeping most of his hair out of his face, and a simple iron band on one finger. A wedding ring, Gale realized. 

“Oh, uh…well, nothing I could make sense of,” Gale admitted. “I’m not much of a mechanic. But even I can appreciate the craftsmanship that went into these constructs. They must have taken you ages to create and refine.”

The gnome chuckled. “It helps to have a team when building something like this. But, yes, we’re rather proud of them.” He patted the metal hide of one of the rothé before holding up a gloved hand to Gale. “I’m Zanner Toobin, of the Gondian gnomes.”

“Gale of Waterdeep” Gale said, shaking Zanner’s hand. “I must say, I wasn’t expecting to meet any of the renowned inventors of Baldur’s Gate on this expedition. Though, given all I’ve seen so far, perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised.”

“The Gondians have been in partnership with Lord Gortash for some time now,” Zanner said. “As soon as Lord Gortash conceived of this expedition, he had us working on a variety of plans to make it happen. You’re looking at a fraction of what the Gondians have put together for this expedition alone, to say nothing of everything else we’ve built for his lordship.”

“Such as?”

Zanner hesitated, his gaze flicking to Karlach behind Gale and then back to Gale. “Well…that would be telling, wouldn’t it? A Gondian never shares their trade secrets, especially when some things are in the prototype stages. You understand, of course.”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” Gale understood completely. Or at least, he understood enough to know that one did not speak of Gortash’s secret projects out in the open. It only fueled Gale’s curiosity more. 

Clearly Gortash had a vested interest in Nautera that went beyond the discovery of ancient history and buried ruins. Gale wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that Gortash might have a particular interest in the fabled power sources of Nautera, which could very well fuel and automate constructs such as these for various purposes.

But he supposed Gortash wasn’t the only one interested in Nauterran power sources. The mythallars of Nautera were simply part of its allure, part of its appeal, like a siren song for explorers, kings, and historians alike. Though the age of mythallars had long since passed with the catastrophic, though brief, loss of the entire Weave the moment that Karsus ascended to godhood, there was something still powerfully attractive about the idea of a lost mythallar still out there, perhaps still retaining some shred of its former power, so long as it could be found.

The stuff of legend and fairy tale, of course…but stranger things had been made real over the course of Toril’s history.

“I take it these constructs will be pulling the carts and wagons, then?” Gale asked, eager to move the conversation beyond awkward silence. 

“That’s the plan. If we can find enough drivers capable of controlling and steering them, that is. We…lost a lot of good pilots just now.”

Gale’s interest and enthusiasm for the constructs was doused by the reminder of what they’d lost. He couldn’t help but feel the pain anew, the guilt of what he’d done, or rather hadn’t done, and the cost it had brought. He looked at the rothé again, inert and lifeless, a testament to Gondian ingenuity. How many would they have to leave behind because his ineptitude with the dragon turtle had cost so many their lives?

“What does it take to control them?” he asked. 

Zanner looked at the constructs and then back at him. “Simple commands, like any mount requires, though you have to be holding the correct control wand or else you’re just commanding the wrong construct.”

“May I try?” Gale asked, all eagerness. He’d never gotten to personally control a construct before, though Waterdeep had plenty of constructs about, even in Blackstaff Academy. This was different—a mechanical wonder imbued with far less magic than the standard golem or animated statue. He couldn’t even quite understand what powered them, if not spellcraft. What turned the gears? What made it so that it understood commands? He knew better than to ask, of course. No Gondian would divulge such secrets openly.

Zanner chuckled at his request. “Well…why not? Here.”

He tapped a panel on one of the rothé’s hides, opening a compartment. Gale saw a glimpse of pink crystals and metal gears inside before Zanner pulled out a wand from within and closed the compartment. It was a thin rod of brassy metal, topped with a crystal matching those inside the construct, and fairly simple in its design. He handed the wand to Gale and gestured to the rothé.

“Just give it a tap with the wand, say ‘impero’ to activate it, and command it to move. If you get the hang of it, you can help me position them so we can rig them up to the carts.”

It seemed simple enough. Gale tapped the rothé with the wand, said the activation word, and watched as the rothé came to life. Its crystalline eyes shone with artificial light and the gears and cogs within began to turn and click against each other in a clattering, though muffled, mechanical drone. Though it was clearly ‘on’ and animated, it seemed to have no intelligence or free thought, as magical constructs sometimes did. It was just a machine awaiting orders. 

“Just command it to move?” Gale asked, turning to look at Zanner.

“Oh, uh, be careful saying—”

But the construct was already in motion, moving forward with a steady yet relentless pace—right off the carved pathways and toward a collection of stalagmites jutting up from the cavern floor.

Gale fumbled with the wand, unsure whether to point it at the rothé or not. “Er—left? Turn left! Reverse!”

Zanner lifted a hand. “You don’t have to—”

The construct jittered at the multiple commands, turning left and then halting, then taking an unsteady step back and then turning again. 

“Turn around?” Gale tried, only to burn with a bit of embarrassment as the rothé stopped again, and then began to spin in place, in a slow, perfect circle, one step at a time. Beside him, Karlach couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“Trickier than it looks, innit?” she asked, grinning.

Zanner gave a hesitant chuckle, watching the still-turning rothé. “Perhaps it would be best if I position the constructs to the carts. But I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it…should we need to train new drivers. May I have the wand?”

“Oh…of course,” Gale said. He handed the wand back to Zanner, his face still somewhat warm. He should have been better at that than he was…

“To me,” Zanner called to the construct, walking away toward one of the carts nearby. The rothé stopped turning and followed after Zanner. Gale didn’t hear the rest of the commands, but it was undeniable, the ease with which he spoke to and maneuvered the construct to align with the cart in order to be strapped to it. Under his command, the rothé seemed to walk and behave like any other rothé. 

Gale rubbed the back of his neck, glancing over at Karlach. “Maybe I’ll, ah…walk, yes?”

Karlach patted him hard on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not touching those things except to pick ‘em up and put ‘em down if Zanner needs it. Besides, we need you at the front. You’re the map man. The navigator. Remember?”

“Gale!” Gortash’s voice called out across the cavern space. He stood with Minthara and Lae’zel at his side, near a makeshift table that was little more than a few stacked crates. “Join us! We should chart our next path forward.”

Karlach nudged him with her elbow. “See? Go on, then, I’ll help Zanner finish up here.” She left him with another pat on his shoulder and jogged over to where Zanner was helping others fasten the rothé to a cart.

“Right,” Gale said, blowing out a breath. He rolled his shoulders, his back still smarting a bit from Karlach’s enthusiastic pat. “Map man. That’s me. I can do that.”

Or so he hoped.

He hoped the little trial with the rothé just now wasn’t a sign for things to come. If so, they were about to be hopelessly lost.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he left the constructs behind to join Gortash at the front of their half-formed procession.

——

They were very soon underway, having made a convoy of nine carts, seven rothé constructs, and just under fifty people. They formed an odd procession as they journeyed through the Underdark, with mechanical beasts pulling covered wagons or open carts full of supplies. Two of the constructs pulled two carts each, joined end to end with ropes and a bit of ingenuity. Other than the drivers, mostly Gondians, who sat on the carts holding the crystal wands and directing the constructs, most people walked alongside or behind, helping guide the carts across the often uneven rocky ground.

Though they were on the ancient roads toward Nautera, the roads themselves had not been maintained for millennia. In some places, there was no road at all, and they were forced to get creative with how they traveled. Good old-fashioned heavy lifting did the trick in most cases, but occasionally Gale made himself useful with a few well-controlled levitation spells. Other than that, he tended to stay near the front with Gortash, Minthara, and Lae’zel, the four of them making use of contents from the Nauterran Account, Lae’zel’s tir’su slates, and information from Minthara’s scouts, who scouted ahead, to make progress each day. 

They made it three days (or what seemed like days) traversing the Underdark before they hit their first real incident. 

They had paused for a rest after hours of walking the caverns and roads. Gale was sitting on a rock, reading over pages from the Nauterran Account, when he saw two of Minthara’s drow scouts approach her where she stood just a few feet over. Minthara frowned at their report before nodding and sending them away. She glanced over at Gale and beckoned him to her.

“Wizard. I have need of you.”

Gale closed his book and went to join her. “How can I help, Nightwarden?”

“My scouts have returned from their reconnaissance of the path ahead. It appears that there was a significant cave-in blocking the forward path. They tell me there are two potential routes forward around the cave-in, but aren’t clear on which is best. I’ll need you to return with one of them and see what you can discern, given what you know from that little book of yours.”

“I see. That shouldn’t be difficult.” Gale had anticipated things like this cropping up. After 4500 years, why would everything in the Underdark be remotely the same? He was more amazed they’d made it so far without things like cave-ins and alternate routes happening more frequently.

“Take Karlach and Shadowheart with you,” Minthara said. “We’ve been noticing some…suspicious activity of late.”

“Suspicious activity?”

“Nothing that need worry you, wizard,” Minthara said, feigning boredom. “Though if you are frightened, I can always assign more warriors to go with you. For your protection.”

“I can fight,” Gale said, a flicker of irritation coloring his voice. “Though it helps to know what I might be fighting so that I can adequately prepare.”

Minthara regarded him with faint interest before nodding once. “Very well. You have likely not noticed, but for the last three days we have encountered dead creatures, usually of no consequence, scattered along our paths. Sometimes ahead, sometimes behind. Usually small things, lizards and the like. All of them drained of blood.”

“Ah. You suspect the vampire is following us, then. Astarion.”

“If he is, and if he so much as dares to show his fangs near one of us, rest assured I will drive a stake through his heart before he can so much as blink,” Minthara said, her voice low and dark. But then she straightened and appeared neutral again. “But so far he has not bothered us. If you see him during your scouting, however…”

Her implication was clear. But Gale wasn’t so sure he wanted another death on his conscience. Sure, Astarion was a vampire, but he’d had three days to attack them or start picking them off. Instead, he’d had the mental fortitude to resist his hunger and feed on small Underdark creatures. Gale wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, but it was enough to make him hesitate.

“I can make no promises, Minthara,” he said. “But I’ll take your suggestion under advisement.”

She looked amused but didn’t argue. “As you should. Now go. Fetch Shadowheart and Karlach and meet my scout farther up the path. From there, the four of you are on your own until you find a way forward."

[rainbow-cadenza]

ONE WIZARD FOUND DEAD IN MOONRISE TOWERS

[fangsandfeels]

Everything is about your Tav, if you're infected by the BG3 tadpole...

...so it wasn't a big surprise that this random Final Space clip gave me Calliper vibes:

Since Calliper is very hesitant about using her warlock powers, she literally has to overcome some mental barriers to do beyond her self-imposed limits. And, being a DIY warlock, she does it in the least healthy way possible, by making herself go to a very dark place.

Sadly, we're not talking about the stress of preparing for the prom here.

Calliper *as they're surrounded by gnolls with Wyll downed and Shadowheart clutching on the last hp*: Astarion, say something in Drow to me, quick!

Astarion: Really? Now is the time for you to get nostalgic?

Calliper: It is the opposite of nostalgic and this is what I need to feel if you want us all to survive!

Astarion: I don't even speak Drow! But I can call you names in Orcish if that's what gets you going...

Calliper *agitated*: It wasn't an orc matron who had me lashed! It wasn't an orc who forced a knife into my mouth! Said she'd cut off my tongue if I forgot one of her fancy titles again! *eyes start glowing* Well, who is the iblith* now, matron Jhalass?!

Astarion *backing away slowly*: I- I'm not a matron!

Calliper *levitating in the air, voice distorted*: Call me an iblith, Jhalass,

Ş̸͖̣̯͖̞͙̠̪̟͒̓̃͌͆́̄̈͛͊͘Ȁ̶̛̩̖̑̀͌̄̈́̀̇̓̚Y̸͙̦͔̻̲̩͆̀͋͂̾͗́͌̌ ̷̢̧̫͝I̶̯͉̖̾̋̋̑̓̂̂̈́̀̈́̕͝T̵͉̘͉̞͙̫̃̊͛̐̀̃̀͊̏̒̅̓ ̸͎̱̼̦̬͓̊͊̽R̴̨͉̬̀̊̎̀̽͌͗͌̏̑̽̕͜͜͝͠I̵͙͚̺̘̥̹̗̣̯͔̖̩̗͑͊̃̃̿̊G̸̨̡̛̜̳̣̘̠̀̈́̅̂̊́̌́̊̀͝H̶̭̫̖̲̳̺̯͙̝̻̞̝̳̞̆͗T̴̛̟̻̲͕͙̜͚̭͍͔̙̽͌̔͒̎̓̓͐͒̅̔̚ ̷̬̤͗̅̀́̃͝N̴̛͎̪͉̳��͚̙̹̗͐̇̆͒̍̂̀̿͒̑̈́̚̚͝Ǫ̶̨̹͈̩͙̖́̈́́͋͊̔̕͘͝͝͠͝W̵̪̠̪̘̐̏̈́̓̅̅̅͛͒́̎̿͝͝

Astarion: I don't even know what iblith means!...

Calliper: *screams like a banshee and blasts the wave of Shatter*

*iblith - 'offal',[2] 'excrement'.[24] Often used when referring to humans as well as other non-drow races. Can be used as an insult.[25]

[blackjackkent]

More parsed dialogue adventures. I was watching the video linked in this post about Astarion's dialogue if you try to throw the ball in camp if Scratch has been killed for whatever reason. Got me wondering what the other companions say in various ball-throwing scenarios...

If the ball is thrown and Scratch is trapped at the posthouse but could still be rescued:

ASTARION: - Even the power of a squeaky ball isn't enough to break the dog out of that kennel. - Well... there might have been another dog around? - What, I have to go and pick it up myself? Ridiculous. - I should probably free the dog - this ball won't fetch itself. LAE'ZEL: - The dog's still stuck at the post house. - Just - tossing the ball around. - I need to break Scratch out of that kennel. - Throwing the ball around is no fun when there's no Scratch to catch it. GALE: - I suppose teleportation is beyond Scratch. - I should probably fetch Scratch from the post house. - I'm just playing fetch with myself unless I go back for Scratch... - Might as well throw the damn thing at the post house... SHADOWHEART: - I suppose I should really free Scratch before I expect him to come running... - Scratch can't aid me just now - not while he's in the post house. - Worth a try. I really ought to free Scratch. - I don't know what I expected - Scratch can't reach me just now. WYLL: - Scratch is cooped up at the post house. Can't wait to have him back. - Scratch is a good friend. I need to get him back. - The pooch won't be fetching balls until I fetch him from that kennel. - *Sigh* KARLACH: - Scratch is still stuck at the post house. - Don't know what I expected. - We need to go get our boy back from that awful kennel. - This is no fun without Scratch here. JAHEIRA: - Blast. We left the dog to the kennels. - Too much to hope that Scratch would hear it and break free. - Perhaps if I threw Boo, Scratch would come running... do not think I missed that hungry look, hound. - Enough - I do believe the dog himself would be embarrassed for me. Let's go get him back. HALSIN: - Scratch cannot come - he still languishes at the post house. - Of course, my canine friend cannot help just now. He remains at the post house. - Thwarted again. I must see to freeing that poor dog. - Worth an attempt, but it would surely be quicker to just free Scratch. MINTHARA: - Scratch! Here, boy! Where is that damn dog? - Scratch is at the post house. We should organise a rescue mission. - Who do we need to kill to get Scratch back? - I hope he remembers us. (Devnote: Sadly.) MINSC: - Scratch is a captive of the post house still. Unless he breaks out to come and fetch...? No. - Would you like to fetch instead, Boo? - One more throw, and then we shall go and fetch Scratch from his prison. - You are right, Boo. If Scratch could see me now, he would be concerned. TAV: - Ah - Scratch is still at the post house. - It was worth a shot. Could have been other dogs in the area. - Time to fetch Scratch from the kennels, I suppose. - Well, it was worth one last shot.

If Scratch is permadead:

ASTARION: - Good riddance to the dog. Who'd miss that waggy little tail... (devnote: Pretending not to be sad and failing) - Does it have a sad squeak now? Is that even possible? - I suppose I'll just pick it up myself. - Can't believe the stupid dog isn't here to get the stupid ball. LAE'ZEL: - It's not much fun alone. - I really don't know what I thought would happen. - Solo fetch. A miserable pastime. - Can't believe I'm going to say this, but - I miss Scratch. GALE: - You were an excellent friend, Scratch - and that's coming from a cat-lover. - I hope there's balls and bones galore, wherever you are... - Poor Scratch. I'm lucky to have met you. - I hope Scratch doesn't miss his ball, wherever he is... SHADOWHEART: - I need to stop doing this to myself... - I didn't do this enough, when I had the chance. - I hope Scratch has a new ball to play with, wherever he is... - It's silly... part of me felt like Scratch might still show up for his ball. WYLL: - Fetch isn't much of a solo game. - Damn. I miss the furry fellow. - For old times' sake. - I miss you, Scratch. KARLACH: - I miss my dog. - Here, pup. (Devnote: Sadly - the dog is dead and she knows this.) - Why am I doing this to myself? - Scratch should be here. With his family. JAHEIRA: - Enough. This isn't helping anyone. - You deserved better, boy. - Gods, but you'd miss the fuss. The noise. Gods above, even the smell. - Pointless, without a pup to chase it. HALSIN: - I hope you are happy, wherever you are. - I am sorry, Scratch. - I torment myself - Scratch is not going to come. - Poor Scratch. I hope he is at peace. MINTHARA: - Everyone assumes I killed the dog. I liked the dog. - Scratch reminded me of my first displacer beast. A noble creature. - Withers! Be a good skeleton and fetch that ball. - Gah. I miss the damn dog. (Devnote: Surprised by her own feelings.) MINSC: - Scratch, come and... oh. How could I forget he was gone, Boo? - No game of fetch will bring Scratch back from death. - I know he is gone, Boo, but... perhaps this is a way of keeping him alive, no? - I miss him, Boo. TAV: - I suppose I'd better pick it up. No one else will. - Poor Scratch. I miss him. - It's not as fun when no one brings it back. - Scratch really gave that ball life. DARK URGE: - Why can't you fetch, puppy? Death is no excuse! - I think Scratch is up north. Playing in a goat-farm in Icewind Dale, of course! - Scratch was only ever meat of the lowest grade. - Aw, did someone pet you a bit too hard, pup? I thought you liked it!

If ball is thrown but Scratch unavailable/not currently summoned:

ASTARION: - Oh, the dog's had enough fun? Lazy mutt. - Dog? Dog! Fetch the ball. Fetch the - never mind, I'll get it. - First he wants to fetch, now he doesn't want to fetch. Make up your mind, dog. - The dog's tired after one little game of fetch? Weak. Pathetic. Barely a good boy at all. LAE'ZEL: - I don't think Scratch is up for it. - Scratch is resting. Not sure who or what I expected would fetch that. - It's Scratch's naptime. I'll need to get that. - I guess I'll have to get that. Scratch isn't about to. GALE: - Poor pooch is worn out. - Better let Scratch rest up. - The ballplay can wait, I suppose. - Hmm. I suppose Scratch has had enough fun and games for now. SHADOWHEART: - It's too soon - Scratch needs his rest. - Lazy mutt... no, I shouldn't say that. He's a good boy. - Poor thing. He must still be tired. - Still too soon. Scratch is dreaming of balls and buried bones, no doubt. WYLL: - Poor Scratch is tired. I should let him rest. - Scratch needs a snooze. The games can wait. - All tuckered out? Me too, Scratch. Me too. - No point in that. Good ol' Scratch is snoozing away. KARLACH: - Poor Scratch is all worn out. - I shouldn't tease our boy. - Fella must need a little shut-eye. - Better get it myself. JAHEIRA: - Well, Scratch? Do you scratch yourself somewhere? - Would you prefer I wild-shape, and fight you for it? - Take your rest then, Scratch. Eldath knows you've probably earned it more than us. - Lazy pup! Must I fetch it myself? HALSIN: - The poor dog is still weary. I must give him a chance to recover. - The valiant Scratch deserves his rest. Best leave him be for another while. - Even the most loyal of companions needs his rest. Sleep on, Scratch. - Scratch deserves his rest - I can handle this without him. MINTHARA: - Disobedient hound. Where is he? - Scratch. Obey my command! (Devnote: miffed but not actually angry; she likes Scratch too much to be angry.) - Blasted dog. You dare ignore me? - Do I have to fetch it myself? This is demeaning. MINSC: - Scratch is off somewhere scratching himself, I think. - Ah, I see. Scratch is playing fetch in his dreams instead. - Scratch sleeps still? Boo, you will have to share with him some of your stamina-building tricks. - If Scratch will not fetch, and Boo will not fetch, then Minsc must fetch. TAV: - Must be tired from all that running around. - Even good boys need a moment to catch their breath. - Must still be tired. Poor Scratch. - If Scratch won't pick it up, I guess I will.

Some other bonus animal-related items, starting with the owlbear cub talking about Scratch:

If Scratch and the cub are friends: No - Scratch friend! Takes care of me when scared at night. If Scratch was killed: Sad. No want food. No want play. (Player: What's the matter?) Scratch gone. Miss him. (Player pets cub.) Little better... You're nice.

And Scratch about the cub:

If Scratch and the cub are friends: No, nothing happened - just the young one having bad dreams. That's what you heard. (Player: I hear you're friends with the owlbear cub.) Yes! He's a handful, but I like having him around. I stay with him and keep him company when he's scared. He'll settle down, in time. If the cub was killed: It's not the same here. Feels emptier. (Player: What's wrong?) The young cub. He's gone... for good. (Player pets Scratch.) Thank you. I needed that.

[bloodiedrogue]

STUPID, DASHING VAMPIRE

SUMMARY: Astarion attempts to help you after a bad flare up.

PAIRING: Astarion & Gender Neutral Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,110

WARNINGS: Descriptions of chronic pain. Also unedited because I can't be bothered, my hands hurt too much.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Had a bad flare up and decided to whip up something a bit indulgent for all the arthritic bitches out there. <3

MASTERLIST

-

“Darling?”

You hear him call to you from the doorway, a hint of curiosity laced in his words, most likely wondering why you’re still here. As he comes up to greet you, you notice the soft expression that quickly turns into worry once he sees you, both brows moving towards the centre of his face as he crouches down. 

“Are you alright?”

Wedged between your thumb and your forefinger the lock pick you’re attempting to use sits idle in your hands, refusing to budge through the stiffness of your joints as you sigh. 

At this point, you’ve been at it for ages —trying to will your digits to perform the simplest of duties. Originally, the plan was for Astarion to loot the other room while you’d work through this one but not long after you’d started you began to feel that familiar itch. That pulsating ache that often hits you after a long day’s worth of travelling. 

“I’m fine. It’s just —it’s—“

Frustrated, you force your hands to drop the lock pick. Hearing it clatter to the ground, you deeply inhale and bring your frozen hands to your temples, pressing your wrists against the heated skin, realizing it’s been a while since you’ve had a flareup this bad. So long that you almost forgot how awful it could feel. How such a small, innocuous sensation could become so largely detrimental to your well-being. 

“Is it just your hands?” 

Already knowing, he reaches out for your palms, pulling them away from your face as he further situates himself on the floor, watching you shake your head. 

“Back too?”

This time you nod, swallowing hard once you feel his focus shift to your left hand, turning it over so that the palm faces both of you. 

“My poor little pet.” He shakes his head, a sombre smile creeping across his face as he presses his thumbs into the muscles of your hand, roughly gliding across it in repeated motions. “What am I to do with you, hm?” 

You roll your eyes, a sliver of annoyance passing through as he clicks his tongue arrogantly. “Your sarcasm is unappreciated, you know.”

“So is the lack of regard towards your own health.”

Raising his brow at you, you realize then his concern is genuine. That, despite the chastising tone he offers, there are also a few inklings of sympathy laced throughout, showcasing themselves in the form of rough fingers that try to ease your pain. 

As much as you hate to admit it, you’re thankful for them. Thankful for him, as he works to soothe the residual pain that radiates up through your wrist, catching at your stiffened elbow.  

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I can—”

“What? Do it yourself?” 

You go to respond but suddenly feel a stabbing pain in your lower back, making you wince. 

Gods, somehow it’s worse than you remember.

“Darling, as much as I love your unwavering resilience, I think it’s best I let you know that sometimes you tend to overdo it.” 

Normally, you’d be tempted to argue but right now all you can feel is the collective agony pooling throughout your bones. All the twitching and the aching —each section of discomfort working together to render you useless against his hands that begin to move to your other hand.

Once there, he moves to repeat the motions. Taking both of his thumbs and digging them into your flesh, he circles around each spot, gripping your fingers in place as you lean back in an attempt to alleviate your lower back.

“Does this even help or am I just rubbing your hand for no reason?”

You huff out a pained laugh, watching him break out into a grin. One that’s all teeth and tongue —cheeky looking. 

“I mean, it’s not not helping.”

“But it’s not the cure to your ailment, I assume.” 

You nod but make no effort to stop him as his fingers continue to move across your skin, applying enough pressure so that you can really feel the labour he so graciously offers you. 

“Is there something else you usually do, or?”

“Lay down and cry mostly. Wait for it to pass.” 

He snorts. “How awfully depressing.” 

You shrug your shoulders, watching as he performs a few more swipes with his thumbs, really getting in there for those final pushes before he releases your hand altogether, making you sigh. 

“We should probably get you back to camp then, hm?”

Suddenly, moving to stand, he continues to grin at you in a way that makes your chest tighten, watching as he offers his hand, wiggling his fingers impatiently. “C’mon now, darling, we don’t got all day. The sun will be setting and I’m sure the camp would appreciate you getting all that weeping over and done with before bed time.” 

You drop your jaw in false annoyance, offering your hand to him. “Wow, you’re really just going to throw my own misery back in my face like that, huh?” 

“Obviously.” 

Gently pulling, you feel that same painful shift in your spine that forces you to wince again, prompting Astarion to rush back down, filling with concern as he asks if you’re alright.

“Mhm, yup never better,” you say through gritted teeth, feeling his arm immediately snake around your waist, pulling you tightly against his hip. 

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

“And you’re a bully who makes fun of ill people.” 

He huffs and gently drags you up to your feet as you groan in response, feeling the tightness of your back begin to loosen thanks to the new position. 

“Good?” 

Tentatively stepping forward, you let out a sigh of relief once you realize that it is. That, instead of your body completely inhibiting you as it so often does, this time it’s granted you enough reprieve to be able to walk on your own. To slowly step forward through the doorway, watching as Astarion hovers cautiously beside you, reaching out to grab your waist as you falter for a moment. 

“Please don’t overdo it. I’d hate to have to carry you all the way back.”

Gripping his shoulder, you offer him a smug look. “As if you could.”

His jaw clenches in response as he further wraps his arm around you, gently digging his fingers into your side. “Big talk coming from someone who can barely walk without the help of their dashing vampire friend.” 

You roll your eyes and look away, feeling his previously rough hand begin to soften against you, once again rubbing soft circles, this time along your side as you move through the doorway, thankful for your stupid, dashing vampire.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

Halsin can't catch a break

I keep thinking about how Halsin is the only one in my camp that has his shit together.

Of the Tadfools my Tav is the one who has her shit the most together, and yet she's still a fucking mess.

Halsin (partial) POV crack fic thing under the cut.

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

Halsin was rescued from the goblin camp by my Tav.

He must've been in awe, this stranger took down an entire goblin camp to rescue him?

Tav has a ticking ilithid time bomb in her head, and yet she chose to help the tieflings, resuce him, and save the Grove.

Tav must be a true altruist.

And then he finds out that Tav stopped Kagha from killing a child and completing the sealing ritual. Tav has saved the tieflings and given them, and subsequently him, hope.

Tav has made the impossible, possible.

Tav has given him the perfect excuse opportunity to step down as archdruid and leave the grove.

He knows that Tav and co. can help him free Thaniel and lift the Shadow Curse.

Sure— most of Tav's party members are strange and off-putting, but he's not one to judge books by their covers. The fact that Tav can get such vastly different people to effectively work together speaks volumes about Tav's leadership skills.

He must've been so relieved. He wouldn't have to be the competent, composed, leader if he joined Tav's camp. He could solely focus on the Shadow curse and Thaniel — because Tav obviously has her shit together.

The first day of travel after the tiefling party is a bit rocky, which Halsin attributes to everyone being hung over.

And then he finds out that:

Shadowheart is a worshipper of Shar.

Lae'zel hates Shadowheart as much as Shadowheart hates her.

Lae'zel and Shadowheart have tried to kill eachother.

Lae'zel sharpens her blades whenever she can, for as long as she can. (I swear that fucking noise is what drove my durge to kill the bard.)

Gale has an unstable bomb in his chest that is no longer responding to treatment.

(He already knew Wyll had been turned into a devil by Mizora because he valiantly refused to kill Karlach. What he didn't know is that) Wyll has a concerning relationship with alcohol.

No one can touch Karlach because she'll accidentally set them on fire.

Astarion is a vampire.

To say he's a bit concerned would probably be an understatement. But Tav has done well in keeping her companions from killing eachother, so it's fine. This is fine.

And then he opens the communal camp chest.

There is a corpse in the chest.

No, there are corpses, plural, in the chest.

Humanoids, goblinoids, animals.

Are these the bodies of those Astarion has killed to feed from? Is this a Shar thing? A gith thing?

Why are they in the camp chest?

Why would they keep them!?

Why would they keep them in the camp chest!?

Halsin asks Tav about the dead bodies.

"Oh, those are my trophies." she cheerfully tells him. (Note: this wasn't a durge run, it was a "normal" Tav run.)

Halsin simultaneously realizes several things:

Everyone in this camp is insane.

These are the people he's counting on to aid him in his quest to save Thaniel and lift the Shadow curse.

None of them have their shit together. Except him.

Traveling with the Tadfools is more going to be more stressful than leading the Grove was.

Poor Halsin can't catch a break.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow

Summary: Astarion and Tiriel break up for a few months. Set six years post-game and fourteen years ago before Alethaine is born.

Tags: hurt\comfort, angst, reconciliation, another episode of 'killing your abusers, soft smut TW: a mild description of a rape attempt, a conversation about SA

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion decides he’s had enough.

Three months. Three months since he fucked up. He fucked up so bad he isn’t going to forgive himself. 

He let Tiriel go.

The past year was difficult for both of them. Astarion decided she influenced his actions and thoughts too much and he started resenting her after noticing how many traits he’d picked up from her.

Mannerisms. Words. Ways of thinking.

He used to be a white sheet and Tiriel wrote his new personality.

Astarion would lash at her. Demanded she stop influencing his every decision or action.

They would yell at each other. A few times they even got physical, much like two drunk bugbears trying to release all the anger they had within.

Tiriel started avoiding Astarion. When he wanted to hug her, to kiss, to cuddle – she would deny him the pleasure of physical touch.

Then yet another fight. Cruel, heartless, mean, and acid.

Tiriel said she’d had enough. She didn’t want to see Astarion anymore.

Neither did he her.

For the first month, Astarion was happy. No one was manipulating his actions, and no one made important decisions for him.

He could be himself.

But then, he realized how big his dark tent was. How empty and silent his days were. How he tried to spend more and more time trancing only to relive memories of Tiriel.

It’s his fault he lost her.

Tiriel did so much for him and that’s how he repaid her? Calling her all possible slurs? Telling her to get lost?

Astarion has had enough. He needs to find Tiriel.

He loves her. It’s not about her giving him blood or sharing her warmth. If anything, he can always pay someone to feed on, to have sex and cuddle with after.

It’s not about that.

No one is like Tiriel. No one.

But how is he going to look for her? She could have gone anywhere! They are far from the Sword Coast, and the wilderness is familiar to her. Tiriel could go so far that Astarion will never find her.

Idiot, he told himself. Idiot.

Maybe she has already found someone else, someone who values her as much as she deserves.

Maybe, years later, he will meet her happily married and with kids and the only thing he will be able to do is to promise he’ll look after her progeny when she is gone.

Three days last like hell. Astarion feels like a bloodhound or a bounty hunter as he sniffs the air trying to catch her familiar scent.

This is ridiculous.  

He will never find her.

.. The town of Moranay greets him with seagull squeals and the reek of farms. Astarion covers his head with his hood – without Tiriel he has no idea how  “vampiric” his looks really are. This kingdom, Implitur, is so underdeveloped in comparison with any city-state of the Sword Coast! And these small towns… They would be considered disgustingly poor in the West!

No, it can’t be…

Astarion stirs up trying to catch the scent better. 

Yes. It’s her.

Tiriel was here a mere couple hours ago.

He looks around and notices a drunk man, half-elf to be precise, puking by the tree and completely wasted.

“What are you staring at?! Get lost!”

A few other adventurers, probably celebrating a successful hunt, are also heavily drunk, but Tiriel is nowhere to be seen. The corpse of a monster lies in the dirt, guts open. After hesitating, Astarion realizes it’s a barghest, a monstrous hound known for ripping sheep's throats.

There is only one inn in the town and the closer Astarion gets, the more anxious he becomes.

What if she isn’t alone. What if she doesn’t want to see him?

He approaches the door to the tavern. The invisible threshold fades when the innkeeper notices Astarion and invites him inside. The vampire goes upstairs.

There.

Astarion touches the doorknob.

Tiriels is fast asleep under a blanket and Astarion watches her with awe. So beautiful, so precious.

He wants to get close to her, but the invisible threshold doesn’t let him in. 

“Tiriel” He starts. “Tiriel, please…”

Tiriel opens her eyes and stares at him in shock for a brief moment. 

“Tiriel, please, I am sorry! I am so sorry!”

Tiriel sits up. Astarion thinks he will go and face the sun if she casts him away.

“Come here!” She smiles. “Took you long enough!”

Before he realizes what he’s doing, Astarion is already kneeling by her bed. He wraps his arms around her waist pressing his face into her stomach. Her heart is so loud it’s the only thing Astarion can hear. 

Tiriel runs her fingers along his hair and Astairon weeps.

He could have lost her. There was a chance he would never see her again.

Ever.

But she is here, with him, warm and soft. He won’t let her go anywhere. 

“Hush, my love,” Tiriel murmurs. “That’s all right, you are with me now.”

“Please forgive me.”

“There is nothing to ask forgiveness for. We both needed a break.” She caresses his back, but the light armor he’s wearing prevents him from feeling anything. “I wanted to go looking for you, too. After… Well…Forget it.”

Astarion lets her go and sits beside her on the bed. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Tiriel turns away.

“Hey, do you realize three months is merely nothing for elves? I haven’t forgotten your body language. What happened?”

Tiriel suddenly pulls away as if embarrassed. 

“Two days ago I met a man. Half-elf, like me.  We chatted. He was nice. Kind. Funny. He came to my tent the next day, and I let him in.”

Astarion stirs and feels a wave of anger. So, she did find someone to replace him. Someone warm and alive. 

“Wait, let me finish,” Tiriel presses her legs against her chest. “The moment I took my shirt off I felt … off… Embarrassed? Disgusting? His hands were too warm, his body too sweaty. Maybe it was ale or the desire to hurt you for leaving me. I don’t know. But I didn’t want him close to me anymore. He wasn’t you. So, I told him to fuck off. I told him I had someone. That it was a mistake.”

Tiriel bites her lower lip.

“He got angry. All his sweet words were gone. It was the fury of a man who didn’t get what he wanted. Well… I am not a good fighter when I am naked. He hit me. Five or six times. He tried to rip the rest of my clothes off but finally, the rage kicked in and I beat the shit out of him.” 

Astarion stands up. His thoughts are a mess. He left Tiriel all alone. She decided to sleep with someone else but changed her mind. The rejected half-elf tried to rape her. 

“When I finally got rid of him and found another place to spend the night, I cried. I cried because of my shame, because of my own stupidity, because someone else saw me naked. After all, I allowed him to touch me. And then I got angry at you for abandoning me after everything I did for you. And after that, I was angry at myself for even thinking about you being in debt with me. So, I… Well… Let’s say I thought I had a dream when I saw you at my door.”

They are both quiet for a moment.

“What can I do for you?” Astarion asks.

Tiriel smiles. Stands up from the bed and takes her shirt off. In a few seconds, she is naked and he sees bruises mottling her skin.

“They are not from him. I fell from a roof yesterday chasing the beast. Well, maybe some of them are from him, but I got more bruised from the fall.” 

Astarion puts his hands on her waist.

“Do you … “ Astarion’s words are stuck in his throat. Is it the right moment? She is always so understanding with his issues and she literally said she had almost been assaulted.

“I missed you,” she says. “Missed your voice. Missed your passion. Missed your face,” she gently pushes him to the bed. “And besides, I had never let any man touch me before you and I am so ready to forget that asshole’s fingers on my skin.”

Tiriel unfastens his belt and the straps of his armor. Intrusive thoughts are immediately back awoken by a few months of loneliness.

Astarion used to be undressed in the same manner. Women and men he barely knew treated him like an inferior thing, existing only for their pleasure. Drunk and dirty, they were barely capable of realizing the person they’d hooked up with wasn’t even alive.

“Are you all right?” Tiriel asks. “Do you want to stop?”

Her voice returns him to the present moment.

Her nipples have hardened due to cold air and she looks vulnerable without armor. The upper part of her body is elven – narrow shoulders and thin hands. The bottom part is human, her legs are muscular and strong and her butt cheeks are round.

She is perfect.

He kisses her lips and then traces her neck with his tongue. Tiriel finally gets rid of his trousers and Astarion moans when her fingers run along his member.

The next moment, they are already one.

Tiriel wraps herself around him, her core hell-hot. Astarion rolls his hips and the half-elf moans right in his ear, touching his earlobe with her tongue.

“I am not letting you go any more,”  he says as his movements become rougher and rougher with every thrust. “I am not letting you go.”

Tiriel moans and squirms in his hands. Her mouth is pressed against the nape of his neck and with yet another thrust her teeth pierce his cold skin as if she wanted to draw his blood.

“Imagining being a vampire, darling?” He pulls her hair forcing Tiriel to see his face. “Eyes on me.”

She nods.

Be it because of the long absence or because he got too excited to see her, orgasm comes quickly. He feels as if he was thrown in boiling water that immediately got pleasantly warm and his mind completely shut itself down.

Tiriel gently releases herself and goes to pick up a piece of clean cloth to wipe his groin and the space between her legs. Once she’s done, she lies beside Astarion pressing his head against her chest.

“Tiriel.”

“Hm? Sorry, I still need a couple hours to sleep.”

“Please don’t leave anymore.”

“Sure,” she kisses his forehead. “But mind me, I have a sensitive soul, too!”

Soon, she is fast asleep in his arms and Atsairon relaxes.

Everything is going to be all right from now on.

Everything.

**

The following night, they leave Moranay and set on their path to the south. Astarion notices the half-elf he met the day before. Suddenly Tiriel’s heart beats faster and she grabs Astarion’s hand.

“It’s him, isn't he?” He hisses.

Tiriel nods.

Astarion feels rage filling his dead veins. She is so strong and fierce, but in the presence of her potential rapist, she is no different than any other woman of any race or any age.

Before the half-elf realizes anything, Astarion has already knocked him down. The bastard is strong but there is nothing he can do against a furious vampire.

“Fuck!” The man tries to set himself free. “Please, don’t kill me!”

Astarion bares his fangs, wishing his eyes glowed in the dark.

“I care only about one person in this world and you hurt her. Why should I show mercy?” Astarion murmurs enjoying the man’s fear. “I like when my prey fights back, it makes their blood sweeter.”

Tiriel finally composes herself and approaches Astarion. He notices an evil smile lurking on her face. 

“Where did he hit you?”

“Astarion…”

“Where?”

“Mostly my chest and stomach. Also tried to suffocate me.”

“Please… Please, Tiriel,” the man begs. “Tell him! I won't tell anyone! Please!”

Astarion looks at Tiriel.

“Up to you, darling. Just leave some blood for me.”

Tiriel crouches close to them. “I asked you to stop, too. And what did you tell me? You said that I was a slut and sluts like me exist only to satisfy men’s desires. Also, you told me about what happened to other women who dared to say ‘no’ to you. Why should I have mercy on you? Besides, when you date a vampire you certainly pick up bad traits. One of them is lack of forgiveness.”

Astarion stares at Tiriel. She's never talked like that before. She has always been too kind, too merciful…

He likes it when she is so mean.

Astarion smashes the man’s chest with his fist. Bones break with a delicious sound. The rapist wheezes as his lungs collapse. The scent of blood becomes unbearable and Astarion rips his throat.

Scared victims taste the best.

Astarion thinks that maybe he can let the man live after mutilating him so much he won't be able to hurt anyone anymore. Maybe he should castrate him and stuck his own testicles in his mouth.

But before the thought morphs into anything rational, the man is already dead.

Astarion releases the corpse and stands up. Blood lets him feel alive. Warm. Satiated. 

Happy.

Tiriel kisses his stained cheek.

At dawn, they both sit in their shared tent and Astarion suddenly realizes it’s rather small.

“A question,” Tiriel finally asks.

“Hm? 

“If he had managed to take me by force, what would you have done to him?”

“I would have flayed his skin slowly and painfully,” Astarion casually says. “And I wouldn’t have killed him. I would have hung him on the tree to meet his demise.”

Tiriel puts her head on his shoulder.

“And would you still want me after that?”

“I should be offended by this question.”

“But?” Tiriel gets dark. “Astarion, I ask this because this is important to me. He didn't assault me. I protected myself. But what if I didn't?”

Astarion turns away. The thought creeps into his mind. It could happen. It can happen. 

“Tiriel,” he whispers “I was raped and abused more times than I can count and I don’t remember a good chunk of it all. You never thought of me as dirty or unworthy. Why should I?”

“I don't know, maybe, because my ‘purity’ somehow has a different meaning.”

“Purity… I was a dirty whore for two centuries. You could choose anyone else but chose me to be your first. How would I even dare to see you lesser than you are if some pathetic excuse for a male took you without your consent? I know how it feels, Tiriel. I know what it is to be used. To be assaulted. Not to be able to protect yourself. To be degraded and humiliated. To be used by a few people at once. When you are a mere sack of meat and nothing more. You never asked me, but you knew from the start that… well… that cunt used me for his own pleasure in bed for a few decades before I finally became so dirty and filthy he decided to send me to the streets.”

“Sort of easy to guess. I’ve met a lot of women who were through similar shit.”

“And still wanted me, still loved me, still cared,” Astarion caresses her cheek. “What kind of person would I be if I resented you for a minor version of what happened to me?”

Tiriel kisses his fingers.

“You know, I sort of liked what you said back there.”

“What exactly?”

“That I am the only person you care about.”

“Well look at this, I’ve spoiled you!” Astarion laughs. “Back when we met you weren't that selfish.”

“I wasn't. You taught me to be.”

Astarion tugs her onto his lap and as they sit together he watches the sun coloring the woods in its light.

--- Tag List

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@jessaryss

[denimaww]

I cannot settle for one or the other, so I am writing one of each

Astarion can't catch a break in either fic though, poor guy

Healthy and caring relations/Halstarion: Desire flowers wherever it finds purchase

Disrespectful lovemaking/Raphstarion: Contractum ad Solis et Carnis

[astaribun]

Any body but me

Fandom: BG3

Pairing: Tav x Astarion

Rating: E

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[proteus-no]

Summary: Astarion's so pretty, Dirge wants to keep him tucked up where no one can ever lay their eyes on him again. His blood is wretched, foul, bearing someone else's brand. But that makes Dirge crave him even more.

Poor Astarion just can't seem to catch a break.

My pre-canon Durge, Dirge, kidnaps Astarion about 10 years prior to the events of Baldur's Gate 3, and puts that man through the wringer. Chapter 1 is safe, but the rest is about what you'd expect if a cult leader version of the Dark Urge kept someone chained up in his basement.

Featuring mutual manipulation because this may be Astarion whump, but he's not about to NOT take advantage of someone obsessed with him :D

[morgana-ren]

In sharing a love, do your ocs have 3somes/group sex? Are any of them sexually involved with each other, with or without a victim lover in the middle?

Is it a free for all on who they have to spend time with or is there like a subconscious rota??

I always see corvus as having some kind of un/official priority but maybe it depends on who brings them into the fold or falls first?

Simple answer? Yes. They absolutely have group sex. Especially in the early days before the territorial shit sets in and it's just a fun little hobby to keep you around. It is a fucking gas for them! For you? Absolute horror. Tiring and terrible tyranny. Exhausting and demanding and painful and just something you want to avoid at all costs. They are tireless and especially when they get drunk, they lean into the worst possible desires. All pretense drops even from stiff ones like Corvus, and it... it is a nightmare.

We're talking they're taking you down to Reaver's special rooms and you'll be put into an outfit and made to perform. In more ways than one. Maybe they get an elaborate roleplay going (and I do mean elaborate) or maybe they want a personal stripper to dance for them. It always devolves into the worst possible shit.

The most common way used to be that Corvus and Astarion would end up finding someone (or kidnapping someone) whether it was tricking some poor girl on the road, or burning a village and coming across someone they didn't want to kill, or stalking someone online and toying with them, or just-- a lot of it. They would be taken back to Reaver's manor, and Reaver's rent is that he gets to partake. Sometimes the girl(s) were a maid in the manor or a union rep he loathed (and wanted, because Reaver loves boinking the opposite end of the spectrum with people who are repulsed by him) and Reaver claimed that was his finding someone. Once Ilya joined, it was fairly common for him to take the boys out and goad them into trying to find someone.

In the early days, it's a free for all. When they want you, they'll have you. They'll just barge into the room and kick the other guy out, unless he manages to talk their way into the intercourse somehow. Corvus will end up partaking, but usually, he's going to focus on the mental anguish and terror first, being a prude and all. One of them (whoever is claiming to have spotted you first) will try to play a trump card and say you belong to them because they put the effort in. It doesn't usually work. They will bicker, and you can use that against them, but usually Corvus and Ilya will catch on to your little scheme. Corvus will call you out, but Ilya will go along with it just to cause chaos.

When things get serious, however, they realize that the chaos system with no rules isn't going to work. Corvus will call a moot and they will have to discuss rules and schedules. Things like no scarring somewhere too obvious for Astarion. No tattooing somewhere obvious for Reaver and no piercings unless everyone agrees. If Corvus wants a collar, it has to be agreed on by everyone, and no pregnancy. No trying to transform you into a cat girl or some dumb shit for Ilya unless it's a form agreed upon by everyone. Basically they will lay down rules for each other if they are going to share.

They will all inevitably try to get the leg up and break these rules, sometimes just to agitate each other. Corvus will slap a collar on you and go "Oops! It's enchanted. Can't take it off now." Astarion will drink and get rowdy and.. umm.. 'write' his name somewhere huge and gaudy. Ilya will use magic to just straight up steal you from someone because he wants to join the chaos but he has most kinks. Reaver will play the whole "It's my damned house and therefore--"

They usually have either a day or sectioned schedule per week. Think of it like a camp signup list. If Reaver has an early morning meeting, he wants you the previous evening. If Corvus has.. uh.. plans, he has to make it known. Astarion and Reaver will usually fight over breakfast because Reaver fancies himself inhuman and has a taste for blood, which Astarion hates and calls Reaver a fucking pretender. Eventually they will settle on having breakfast together with everyone, because Corvus and Ilya also partake in blood. It's a mess.

Eventually things will even out. They will just show up to take you when it's their turn. Corvus will gleefully show up at dawn pounding on the door and 'warning' it's his day just to ruin the other guy's time. Ilya will just pop into the room, grab you, wave bye-sies to whoever you were with, and pop out. Astarion will try to be respectful unless someone disrespected him. Reaver will start shooting his gun everywhere to warn them he expects you and soon.

Corvus only has priority because he's a pompous prick who thinks that he's the most important. He's a prince, and he found you, and he yada yada. Usually, it's Corvus who put a lot of the work into grabbing you (not for their sake, but because he isn't happy unless he's doing elaborate and horrifying schemes) and he tries to use this against them. He's also the most magically attuned with the exception of Ilya, so it's hard for, say, Reaver to stop him.

They will undermine each other constantly. It turns into a fucking episode of looney-tunes. Each of them trying to break the rules while technically not breaking the rules and get the upper hand. It will devolve into a game of making you like them best while still getting what they want.

As for their 'relationships' with each other, it went thusly:

Astarion and Corvus... sort of tried the first night. They were attracted to each other (they look very similar and obviously they're both handsome and it was an initial spark) but they quickly discovered they weren't compatible. This didn't stop them from getting drunk and hooking up later, but it was always a one-time thing. They don't do that now, and get awkwarded and grossed out if you mention it.

Reaver flirted with Corvus and they actually did try to have sex. They were both domineering tops. It was a 'horrible experience beyond words' for Reaver, and that the teeth do not a very merry man make. Corvus will only service if he stands to gain something, which he has everything he wants now, so he won't. Reaver demands control in bed and wanted... things. It was a mess.

Astarion and Reaver flirt, and it's sort of nebulous and dependent per au whether they have tried. It was never anything serious.

Covus and Ilya had an initial spark and would flirt constantly. But at the time, sex was the last thing on their minds as they were in the middle of a political revolution. Corvus still finds Ilya beautiful, but they both agree that they're best and most compatible when they're doing the same person that isn't each other, given the experiences with the others.

Corvus is remarkably selfish and that ruined most of the attempts. He will not please in bed unless he has incentive or unless he is trying to break you. He certainly won't do it for his brothers. He expected to be pleased, forgetting they are just as selfish as he is.

Astarion is very capable of pleasing, but even he is offput by Corvus' selfishness and he finds Reaver's desires in bed repugnant (when expected of him.)

Reaver is just too gross for any of them. He's handsome, but he catches the most flack for being the most openly degenerate.

Ilya is a wispy sort of beauty but he has a very particular set of expectations in bed, and the others weren't down to be his little bitch. Ilya wants to be in total control. He's capable of normal sex, but it doesn't really fulfill him, and obviously he can't abuse them in the way he could his own concubine.

tldr; they are way too fucking selfish.

[handsomeamoeba]

There's an alternate timeline where none of the tadpole shit happened, but Astarion still met Zarlius (my Tav). Because Zarlius lived across from the Elfsong and would often busk on the streets around there or get drinks at the bar.

Astarion targets him, seduces him, but before he can think to bring him back to Cazador, he catches feelings in a way he doesn't fully understand. And decides not to go through with it. And then Zarlius invites him back to his place, and Astarion thinks why the fuck not.

And then he gets locked in the kennel and mutilated for a month because he came home stinking of another man, and empty-handed.

But now he has this little crush, and he can't help himself from striking up this charming bard in conversation now and again.

Zarlius' first guess is "serial infidelity" but Astarion gets so cagey and nervous about certain things, so then Zarlius figures "oh this poor man is trapped in an abusive relationship isn't he?" And like... he's kind of right?

But he takes him aside one night and says very sincerely, "Do you want me to hide you? Whoever it is, I won't let them find you."

And the kindness breaks Astarion's heart. "I wish it were that easy."

"What, is he a wizard or something? Let them come looking. I know a bit of magic too. Listen... I like you. I want to help. You shouldn't have to slink around in the middle of the night like an alley cat looking for someone who will touch you like they care about you."

And Astarion just bolts because he doesn't know how to cope with being cared for.

Doesn't realize he's been followed home because Zarlius still wants to help him.

Zarlius gets caught trying to break in. Cazador makes Astarion watch him get drank dry. And there's nothing he can do.

And then of course he dies in the ritual.

[mywitchcultblr]

I kinda agree with you that it seems like Larian hates Ascended Asta. I’m just scared they might bend to crazy spawn fans’ will and do something terrible

I won't necessarily say EVERYONE in Larian hates ascended ending, but someone mentioned that Astarion romance seemed to have several rewrites and so there's some jarring moment particularly in ascendant path. I don't know maybe during the 'turn Tav into a vampire' moment there's a writer who inserted their bias against this writing because this moment feel like? A bit too on the nose? A bit too accusing towards the player?...

"you only see him as a sex object so here we go we give you dialogue choices that confirm this"

Like??? Nah? Personally I found Lae'Zel rough sex to be hotter? It's closer to my kink because that girl doesn't play around she's fucking rough

The post ascendant romance dialogue choices are a bit jarring 😂 like chill...

Tho you can reject his sex offering as well.

Bending to some fans? Hmm I don't see Larian adding anything to companion romance other then extra ending slides because people have been rightfully complaining about the god awful ending.

Maybe they will add upper city?

But I don't see them touching the romance again

Also I must remind people that although I only choose ascendant path for my Tav, I appreciate both endings and I have seen the progression of both choices (I watch the spawn route and play the ascendant because I don't have the time or energy to replay 200 hours worth of content again. My job won't allow it) and although there are toxic people in Bg3 fandom (Particularly the pale twink fandom)

It's better to not use name calling, if there are toxic people let's just call them out for their behavior

The nonsense in fandom is already bad as it is

Ps. If you wanna see a dev who hates a blorbo it's Bioware with Anders, poor guy can't catch a break

[ecurps]

HA! XD

@redundantz Poor Astarion can't catch a break.

Selfie~~~

[thefallenangelsgang]

Hahaha I'm working on a rant about Act 3 and didn't realize this never posted, so without further ado: My 4 am ramblings about the beginning of Act 2

*clears throat*

Don't stay up all night playing through the end of Act 1 and the beginning of Act 2 in Baldur's Gate after having an intensely emotional weekend

...oh god

(break for spoilers)

The worst thing is that I KNEW that Gale and Karlach were both ticking time bombs. I KNEW Mystra literally tasks Gale to die. But I still wasn't ready for it to be said out loud.

So here I am in the stables at the Last Light going full delulu land with Karlach because FUCK IT! If 2 out of 10 of us* are going to fucking blow up if I don't move mountains to keep them from going out with a LITERAL bang, and a bunch of politically motivated gnomes have what is essentially a fantasy nuke, then bye-bye Sword Coast! You're all coming down with me.

For FUCK'S SAKE

My poor character can't catch a break (boy howdy past me it only gets so much worse)

I'm playing as one of my favorite DnD PCs of mine, Wynleth (Avantris Discord peeps may know her a little). And when I say I am playing her I mean I Am Playing Her, down to her stats and skill proficiences.

I also am playing her with her backstory in mind which includes fun stuff like religious trauma, family trauma, and a secret dead husband. So being friends with Shadowheart and courting a man who is dying has been fun :3

So you can understand when Gale keeps bringing up living in the moment and accepting his fate it makes me crazy cause WYNLETH IS REAL SICK OF DOING THIS AGAIN.**

And now Karlach is also going to blow up <3

Wynleth's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad 60+ hours of playtime INDEED

*I play with the party extender mod. Current comp is my Tav Wynleth (paladin), Astarion, Karlach, Gale, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Two Hirelings (bard and a fighter (Lae'zel got benched and replaced early on for being mean but she isn't being too much of a bitch anymore so she got her traveling privileges back)), and I'm counting Halsin even though he isn't traveling with me yet.

**Dead Husband backstory, he died slowly knowing he only had a few months to live, Wynleth is not liking the sped up version (though it definitely has been like 2-3 weeks based on how many long rests I've taken)

[last-but-not-the-least]

Ava is.... so interesting. Intriguing. She had to kill her kin to get where she is rn. Did she do it out of selfish desire? Maybe. Or maybe she did it to survive? Usually when you want to leave a... let's say, an organization with deeply entrenched values. They raise you in an environment where you aren't allowed to question their principles. They stifle you, isolate you from the truth, so you'll be easier to control. e.g. the Sharrans (poor Shadowheart🥲) So when your principles don't align with theirs anymore? Well, they're not gonna let you leave unscathed, are they?

But also also. We don't know if she was telling the truth. Her bitterness about her past seemed real enough but honestly? It could be anything. And that's exactly what gets me about Ava. You can't be sure, you can only speculate. A part of me wants to dislike her cuz how dare she bully our sweet Astarion??😭 😤😠🗡 But on the other hand, maybe she is being honest about not wanting to hurt either Tav or him. Maybe she's just doing what she's doing to survive. I don't even think she trusts her lover. 👀 But that's the beauty of characters like her! It really puts us in Astarion's mind, the way even he couldn't decide whether he can trust Ava or not, but really wishes he could. Cuz if he can't? If he trusted the wrong person? Its just going to make him feel more guilty about putting Tav in danger. (My guy can't catch a break 😭)

But on the flip-side, involving Tav in this mess was DEFINITELY not a way to get on Astarion's good side. Really what were you thinking, Ava?? 🙄 Perfect villainous liars don't mess up like this, right? Which makes me think, there's definitely more to her than meets the eye. A vulnerable, terrified part of herself she's trying to protect. She kinda reminds me of Astarion in the beginning of the game. Though she's definitely less of an idiot for several reasons. 👀 (I'm sorry Astarion, I love you but you ARE a dumbass and an adorable one at that 😭❤). I've come to really like Ava because of how much depth you've already given her, even with the small details. Maybe I'm reading her character entirely differently than what you intended but I can't help but speculate! 👀

And maybe I have a soft spot for hurt assholes with a vulnerable heart lmao could you tell ahahaha 😭

The ending was pain. Pure, undiluted pain. I love it. The guilt, the frustration, the self-hatred is so well depicted! Recovery is so painful, and slow. It requires so much patience, sometimes even more than you can muster. But he is so so so very strong, our darling vampire 😭❤❤ I wish he could see it too. How well he controls himself, even when his control is breaking apart at the seams. Like, if I were in his place I would've caved so hard it wouldn't even be funny. Can you imagine being a STARVING vampire and resisting the one thing makes you feel alive, simply because you LOVE that person so much, its more potent than your body-breaking hunger?? Resisting something that SUSTAINS you?? Getting distracted from THAT when you hear your beloved's LAUGH?? Because they matter to you more than ANYTHING??? Like??? Who else is doing it like him???

I'm so excited to see where the story goes from here! What Ava is going to do during interrogation (I'm sure we're not getting answers from her that easily), how Astarion pulls himself together (Ik he will!! 🥺) and what the dumbasses-in-love will do to protect each other!! (I can never get enough of this trope okay??) Trust me you're doing the lord's work with these updates! 😭❤❤

our lord and saviour being Astarion ofc

Have a hug! Take care! ❤

The Arrangement (12) - In the Beginning

Chapter summary: Astarion meets up with Ava and it triggers something deep within him.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Mention of masturbation. Dissociative episode. Bloodlust.

Word count: 4.8k

Series Masterlist . Ao3

He should have known this would happen eventually. 

His love affair with the sun had reached an unavoidable end. Yet again. Luck had seldom ever been on his side, so this shouldn’t sting this much.

But it did.

His eyes darted to the half-moon window high up above through which scorching shafts of sunlight tore and lit up the dingy cellar.

Revulsion stirred within him and the flares of anger threatened to consume him whole.

The very same sun rays in which he had bathed for weeks were now a sore reminder of his true and inescapable nature.

He titled his head back against the wooden crate, his eyes fluttering shut in defeat as he sat on the cold floor.

Astarion had served his purpose and was now cast to live in the shadows once more, bound to his hunger and to all the inconveniences of being a vampire spawn.

The pain of being scorched by the sunlight had been revived in his mind after weeks of freely strolling around the Sword Coast in some impromptu quest to save Baldur’s Gate whilst having to deal with an inconvenient wriggling dweller inside his head.

But all the physical pain of being burnt mercilessly paled in comparison when his ears picked up approaching footsteps.

He knew who they belonged to.

The sound was carved into his mind like a dagger that wouldn’t budge.

You.

He winced as the squeaky door was pushed open. 

“Astarion?”

He gritted his teeth, silently praying you’d simply walk away and leave him to his misery. 

But his prayers had never been answered before, and that wasn’t about to change now, least of all when it concerned you.

In truth, he doubted any God above would be able to keep you from plaguing his thoughts.

“Astarion, I know you’re in here.”

Then leave.

He remained silent, eyes fluttered shut and an urge to be swallowed whole by the ground below.

Light and careful footsteps drew near and only came to a halt as a swift rush of air indicated to him that you were crouched in front of him.

Shit.

“Hello,” you said and he could hear the warm smile in your voice.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and he was sure that if he had a beating heart, it would most likely skip a few beats. Instead, he felt his stomach lurch as hunger simmered dangerously.

Your kind eyes met his and he craved nothing more than to have you be gone. 

From all the afflictions he was yet again a slave to, you were by far the most painful one.

“Did you come here to mock me?” he spat, the poisonous words leaving his mouth before he could hold back.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Mock you? Astarion–”

But he cut you off like a knife through flesh. “Spare me – I saw the way they laughed as my skin crumbled to ashes. So if you’ve come here to have your share, you can just leave.”

He was being unfair and he didn’t need your wavering smile as proof.

After all your travels together and his unrequited feelings towards you, he couldn’t fight his arrogance from surfacing.

But you never gave up on him – through deceit and manipulation, you were unmoving and relentless in your loyalty to him.

“I’ll have you know that I scolded all of them for doing so,” you said firmly. “It was uncalled for, especially after everything we’ve been through together.”

His jaw clenched harder and his eyes narrowed. 

Oh, he couldn’t stand it. That look on your face – pity. It immediately triggered a visceral reaction deep within him, and when he saw you reach out to him with your hand, he flinched away and recoiled against the crate behind him. 

“Don’t touch me.”

Your hand immediately stilled before dropping to your knee, and he saw a glint of sadness cross your eyes.

It wasn’t disgust or anger that caused him to utter such words.

He just knew your touch would ruin him and that he’d allow it.

“We can find a way to solve this,” you tried again with newfound determination. “We will find a way.”

He scoffed, averting his gaze.

Unfortunately, the laws of the worlds didn’t bend to the whims of lesser beings without compromise. 

And he soon realised what really bothered him was how vulnerable he felt – how exposed and weak he surely looked in your eyes.

Pathetic.

Useless.

Tainted.

Broken.

“Do you trust me?” 

He remained silent.

“Do you?”

Your insistence gnawed at his nerves, causing him to lock eyes with you again. 

“It goes beyond trust, darling. If walking in the sun again – or curing vampirism altogether – were that easy, I would not be here in the first place.”

Even through his snarky remark, you found a way to hold a smile and it immediately disarmed him. “Astarion, if there is anything our travels together have taught me is that we're quite good at turning the impossible into possible,” you said with conviction. “If there is a way to help you, we will find it.”

In another lifetime, he would have called you a foolish human who uttered big words without knowing their meaning.

But in this one, he did know you didn't extend promises lightly.

And if there was a sliver of hope he could cling to, he'd take it, especially now that Cazador was no longer around to compel him otherwise.

“Well, who's ‘we’, exactly?” he asked, easing himself against the crate.

Your face lightened up. “You and me, of course.”

The two of you. Just the two of you?

Oh, he liked the sound of that. Very, very much. 

His jaw slacked as hope kindled inside him, soaring dangerously high.

“Well, and Wyll – he's offered to help.”

Said hope plummeted back to the ground, shattering.

He scowled with a click of his tongue. “Did he, now? How chivalrous of him.”

You nodded. “I'm sure the others will come around, too.”

Astarion supposed this was a decent prospect, but almost grimaced when you extended your hand to him.

“Deal?”

He wanted to believe your relationship with him surpassed a mere friendship value, but he had grown tired of hoping for more.

Still, he would greedily take anything you would offer him.

Whether it was an indication that you craved more than friendship, or a simple handshake.

As such, he took your hand in his, revelling in the familiar warmth. “We have a deal, darling.”

Once he entered The Blushing Mermaid, it was evident that the presence of six Flaming Fists was not welcome at all.

Bork immediately asked for only two to stay inside as they were beginning to frighten the clientele.

But, much to his convenience, he immediately found who he was looking for, sitting in the furthermost corner of the lounge area.

Ava.

The plan was simple: try to get a confession from her – if applicable – but they would still be bringing her in for questioning as Rob Sorel, her lover, awaited her with Wyll.

A measured smile spread across her face as she noticed the fists behind him.

He slithered to her table with determined steps, aware that there was a possibility that this conversation would lead nowhere.

He slowly took the seat across from her, casually placing his twin daggers on the chipped table.

Ava's eyes dropped momentarily before meeting his again. “Oh, Astarion. Offering a silent warning with poison-coated blades? You needn't do that with me.”

Astarion's lips twitched upwards in silence.

He knew this dance better than most. He could read others quite efficiently when it came to sudden shifts in body language, and he had noticed Ava sitting straighter and her saccharine smile wavering all of a sudden.

And he had her right where he wanted her.

“You can't be too careful. Isn't that what some say?” he said, absentmindedly drumming his fingers along the handle of one dagger.

She took a sip from her cup before tilting it. “I'd order one for you, but I know this isn't your drink of choice – unless you brought her along for a sip, that is.”

Her taunt was enough to set him ablaze and the tip of his blade was immediately carved into the wooden table, earning a jolt from her.

“You do not get to goad me with her,” he snarled, gripping the handle so fiercely he might snap it in half. “She is off limits and you were delusional to even think you could bring her into this without consequences.”

Suddenly, her face twisted into a hard scowl and whatever traces of sweetness vanished. “I would not do anything with her without talking to you first.”

“You still offered her a deal, thereby roping her into something she is not to be a part of,” he retorted. “Her blood is off limits. She is off limits.”

Ava leaned back with a roll of her eyes. “Is this a case of you not wanting to share? Not even if that could be beneficial to you?”

His grip loosened slightly as his brows furrowed. “What is your point?”

She took another sip. “Her blood mixed with yours could be beneficial to my experiment and, thus, to you and even that massive horde of spawn in the Underdark.”

Of course Ava would want to play her cards right to keep him around.

It was a temptimg prospect, and he would never consider it at your expense.

He was no fool and you were no bargaining chip.

“I could never ask that of her. She stays out of this.”

She forced a yawn. “Have you forgotten your arrangement with her? Her blood for your good behaviour? Or does all sense of reason rush to your cock when you feed on her?”

Ava's words slashed through the air and he was momentarily taken aback.

The nature of your arrangement with him was vastly different. It wasn’t as simple as him being kept in line like some obedient pup. He could have turned the offer away and live exclusively off boars and deers – much to his horror.

The difference was… well, you.

Your unwillingness to let him go.

Your blood.

Your insistence on helping him keep his mind clear by allowing him to freely feed on the blood of a thinking creature.

And not just any thinking creature.

You.

His first.

The only blood he craved to the point of madness.

“Though, I can tell you haven't fed in a couple of days,” she went on with a dramatic pout. “A lover's quarrel, hmm?”

Oh, she was vicious.

This was the same woman who had shared a bed with him to ease him coming to terms with intimacy. For the most part, her simply being naked by his side hadn't helped much, but it seemed enough, and he was desperate to overcome the prison that his mind had become.

However, this was also the same woman who slayed her kin without hesitation.

She could go from being as kind and sweet to holding a stake to his chest.

Astarion felt a sense of dread wash over him as he realised he had greatly underestimated her.

Now, he needed to tread lightly.

The blade sunk deeper into the table as he leaned closer. “You wanted her blood in exchange for information.”

“Yet it is a far less selfish bargain than your arrangement with her, is it not?”

He ignored tar taunt. “Who is after me?”

“I do not know yet.”

He gritted his teeth. “Lies.”

Ava's face softened and he watched her slip into her usual overly sweet demeanour. “Astarion, we can be here all night hurling accusations and witty remarks at each other,” she said with a sigh. “Or we can approach this in a more sensitive manner.”

He didn't budge. “Who is after me?”

“I do not know who is after you,” she said. “Someone is, but I have yet to find out who.”

There was something in her tone that felt disingenuous. Almost as if she hadn't expected him to press her on this.

“Or there is no one at all besides you,” he said casually.

Her eyes widened slightly. “Me? And what would I gain from doing such a thing? Your blood is an integral part of this experiment. Locking you up in a prison cell would prove to be a nuisance.”

His patience was wearing thin.

“Darling, I've been around long enough to know people lie – you are a pristine liar, but a liar nonetheless.

In truth, he was merely bluffing in an attempt to spot any cracks in her story. He needed anything he could get from her.

And a part of him still hoped this was all a misunderstanding.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I can see what you are trying to do and it won't work.”

He thought as much. Still, he had to give it a try.

“What about Waterdeep?”

For the first time that night, Ava looked genuinely dumbfounded. “What about it?”

“No casual killings over there, hmm? In the past hours – accidental ones, perhaps?” he pressed.

She frowned deeply in response. “What are you accusing me of, exactly?”

“Someone was murdered and I am simply trying to rule you out as a suspect,” he said, feigning concern. 

“You overestimate my reach outside Baldur's Gate.”

He scoffed. “But not the reach of a certain patriar who so happens to be your lover.”

Ava's lips parted but she didn't utter a word.

“Rob Sorel has dealings in Waterdeep and knows which strings to pull to order a murder.”

She was visibly agitated, but he couldn't tell the cause. Was it the mention of a patriar? Or was he simply nearing the truth?

“Who was killed?”

It was all pointless.

A shame.

He merely turned in his seat and motioned for the two Fists at the door. Both immediately approached with the Mage Slayer right behind.

By this point, Astarion wasn't sure if Ava was even involved in this at all, but he couldn't take any risks. She would be taken in for questioning regardless of his judgement.

“Astarion?”

The room was immediately plunged into silence as multiple heads turned to watch the scene. From behind the counter he spotted Bork shaking his head in clear disapproval, visibly displeased with the ordeal.

“Astarion? What are you doing?”

His eyes met hers as he sheathed his daggers. “The right thing.”

He was known to do that from time to time, even against his better judgement.

She rushed to her feet, clawing at her dress in search of her own dagger. “Astarion!”

He could hear the rising panic in her voice, and he silently watched as the mage cast Hold Person on her before she could so much as blink.

She was instantly left petrified in place as the violet sign on the floor caged her in.

Gasps echoed around him and the two Fists promptly rushed to her side.

“We'll handle it from here,” one of them told him.

There was a part of him that vaguely wondered if this was the correct approach. 

A part of him that hoped for Ava not to be involved in any of it.

And then, from across the room, he saw you.

He blinked twice, thinking his eyes betrayed him, but there you were, standing by the door with a Fist at your side, staring back into his crimson eyes.

And it was as if he had been mentally slapped.

Ava had dared to involve you.

You.

And it had been his fault.

The unruly and dense crowd in the room wasn't enough to contain him from darting hurriedly to meet you.

Annoyance hit him first and it was woven into his words once he was in front of you, gripping your forearm. “Why are you here? I told you to let me handle this.”

You immediately yanked free with narrowed eyes. “I wasn't trying to interfere. But this idiot,” you said, pointing to the Fist who merely shrugged, “pushed me inside and – wait! How did it go with her?”

Astarion caught hold of your shoulders, pulling you to the side as Ava was carried away through the door.

As soon as it closed behind them, the fanfare commenced once more in between heated whispers and glares from those around the two of you.

“Marvellous as you can see,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “She didn't confess to anything, and I had limited time.”

You pushed the door open once again and he promptly followed you outside, until he felt a hard shove from someone's hand.

“Move, spawn.”

He glanced over his shoulder only to see a frowning Fist right behind.

“We are not cattle to be ordered around,” he spat, adjusting his vest. “Honestly, Wyll ought to have you all stand trial for severe lack of manners.”

“It's Duke Ravengard to you,” the Fist growled, hand on the hilt of his sword.

Astarion clicked his tongue humorously. “It's Wyll to me and Duke Ravengard to you, Fist.”

Before tensions could escalate any further, you were already tugging at his sleeve, and dragging him across the wooden pier.

Just as the Fist opened his mouth, a myriad of clashing and banging sounds were heard from inside and he turned to open the door.

Probably a tavern brawl.

What fun!

Seconds later, the armoured man was toppled to the ground as the door burst open with people yelling profanities and slinging fists at each other.

“I'll kill ya! WHERE IS MY CHICKEN, YOU OAF?” a drunkard missing most of his teeth yelled, holding a frying pan in his hand.

“YOU ATE IT, YOU IMBECILE!” said another, stepping on the fallen Fist and nearly losing his balance.

Behind them, Astarion spotted several items being tossed whilst Bork's voice begged for order.

He almost clicked his tongue.

Tavern brawls were too much fun and he always adored adding fuel to the fire by standing on the side and instigating these drunkard fools.

But a quick glance at you and he could tell you wouldn't approve of such activity, so he remained at your side.

The other two Fists that were standing guard nearby, clumsily rushed to the entrance.

“Go call for backup!”

The youngest nodded and nearly bumped into Astarion as he tried to keep his helmet steady.

“Oh! Do not leave! Do not move!”

Astarion immediately raised both hands innocently. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

“Right. Thank you!”

Idiot.

Surprisingly, you hadn't let go of his sleeve and your hand moved to his wrist, pulling him to cross the road until you reached the metal balustrade that allowed a privileged view over the Grey Harbour Docks.

It was far away from the chaos that had erupted, but not quite far that would potentially get you into trouble.

Although… “Maybe we should leave.”

Astarion arched an eyebrow at you. “And going against the voice of authority?”

Your face dropped and he fought the urge to pinch your cheek teasingly.

You were so easy to rile up.

“You scheming little delinquent, you,” he said with a devious smile and a chuckle. “I'm all for acts of rebellion, but we ought to stay nearby this time.”

“Do you think we should go help them out?” you asked, glancing over at the rising commotion nearby.

The two of you exchanged looks before shrugging.

“No. They can fend for themselves,” you said, leaning over the fence, eyes set on the lulling sea that spread vastly into the distance.

“Actually, they're quite incompetent, but I don't feel like creasing my shirt,” he said with an annoyed click of his tongue, inspecting his sleeves as he joined you. “Let them fight off the drunkards. We get to collect the scattered coins on the floor afterwards.”

You shot him a curious look. “You do that?”

“Well, obviously? I put the gold to good use, at least.”

“Embroidery?”

That tugged a genuine smile from him and he caught himself staring at you under the moonlight.

Gods.

He would never tire of admiring your beauty and how it was almost embarrassingly too easy for him to get lost in your eyes.

It also didn't help that he hadn't fed in a few days.

Bloodlust clouded his mind and made his insides turn.

It was the soft sound of your voice that snapped him from his thoughts. “What now? I mean… Ava.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, they are to interrogate Rob Sorel and see how both their stories hold up.”

You heaved a deep sigh. “So we wait.”

“We wait.”

Astarion had grown used to the silence that would often settle around the two of you. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one. It was the kind that he had never experienced before.

He wasn't sure there was a name for it, but he knew the feeling attached to it all too well.

The silhouette of passing ships on the horizon, dancing along the calm waters added to the overall soothing atmosphere.

He could stay a while longer like this.

With you.

His eyes eventually darted to the side and he nearly jolted when your head turned to him, as if you had felt his burning gaze.

“You can feed on me once we get home.”

He wanted that.

He needed it.

He craved it.

But… “I can do without your blood for a while longer, darling.”

A white lie.

He could feel his mind spotting and blanking at times already, especially when near you. Maybe he had gotten too addicted to feeding on you to the point his body could no longer go extended periods of time without blood.

Your blood.

And as much as he appreciated your offer, he needed to withstand his hunger.

Ava's words echoed in his mind and he almost felt repulsed from having allowed himself to be so dependent on you and putting you through it in the first place.

“Are you alright?” you asked, visibly worried.

“Yes – of course, darling,” he forced a smile to curl his lips.

Your hand came to rest on his forearm. “Astarion, you can feed on me. I mean it.”

His eyes dropped to your neck, the symmetrical puncture wounds still visible from when he had last bitten you.

Hunger swelled to the point of agony and he could almost smell your blood and feel it coursing through your hand.

You gave him a reassuring nod, which only made it harder for him to resist the urge to give in.

“I should go hunt, actually,” he eventually managed to say and his words felt like ash in his mouth.

You chuckled slightly, squeezing his arm. “You'd probably have to bring a Fist with you.”

He grimaced, but appreciated your attempt at diffusing the tension. “They would end up being the ones hunted by some beast in the woods, and I would have to step in and save the godsdamned idiot.”

Your eyes widened and then you laughed.

Hard.

And it was the most comforting sound he had ever heard in a long while.

It was enough to steer the bloodlust away and he laughed with you.

“It reminds me of the first time you fed on me,” you said, wiping off the teardrops that had formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing. “Remember? When you drifted off into the woods to hunt for something more ‘filing’?”

Oh.

Shit.

His smile wavered and you immediately caught on to the sudden shift.

“What?”

He thought he had told you what truly happened that night….

…. he hadn't?

“Well… I…” his words failed him and as he pondered how he should approach the topic.

Concern suddenly splattered across your face. “What is it? 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I didn't exactly go hunting,” he said with a tense chuckle.

You remained silent, waiting for him to go on.

“I just had to get away from you… to… uhm, well – take care of a little problem that stirred whilst I fed on you, if you catch my meaning.”

He allowed the implication to dangle from his words, and it wasn't a particularly subtle one.

And then your eyes widened once more in sudden realisation.

“Oh… it makes sense,” you said all flustered, withdrawing your hand from his arm. “You did say my blood feels really good.”

‘Good’ was an unfair understatement.

It always felt divine.

“Don't misunderstand,” he quickly added. “It was totally out of my control. I was quite surprised when I realised just how…” hard he had gotten.

“Just how…?”

“Just how much your blood affected me.”

He could remember it clearly in his head.

How desperate he was to slip into the woods and find a secluded place so he could see just how much of a mess his trousers were.

He could feel it, obviously, but he wouldn't know the extent of the ‘'damage’ until he undid his trousers.

“Did you… get…. really hard?” you drawled out in a hushed tone as if scared someone other than him might overhear you.

Astarion figured this was the last topic he expected to be addressing given that the background noise consisted of screams and threats and loud noises and glass smashing.

Hardly the right ambience.

“Yes.”

He could almost remember the feel of the bark of the tree digging into his back as he hurriedly undid the lacing at the front until he was able to free his cock.

“And what did you do?”

Were these merely questions that stemmed from curiosity or were you trying to stir something else…?

“Well…” he started, “you can't expect me to reveal such things aloud.”

He watched you swallow hard as you nodded. “You can say in my ear, then? If you want to, of course,” you quickly added.

You were too adorable and he was in dire need of a distraction from his bloodlust.

This would suffice.

He leaned closer, and pressed a kiss to your heated cheek before his lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“I had to take care of it.”

You shuddered.

His cock had never been as hard and as thick before he had fed on you. It had made him utterly speechless to see all the precum dripping from the tip.

He had been almost too scared to even touch it.

But when he did….

The groan that had erupted from his throat had been too difficult to rein in. His cock had felt warm and it had throbbed from your blood coursing through it, giving it a faint pink tint to it.

“In the woods?” you asked, gripping the railing with both hands.

“Yes.”

He could hear the faint beating of your heart increasing. “What if someone had run into you?”

His cock twitched.

Innocent, little pup…

“Why, darling… did you want to run into me,” he lowered his voice as his lips brushed against your ear. “fucking my hand in sheer despair?”

You gasped.

Despair didn't quite cover it. 

He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt like he'd implode lest he reached climax.

It was a novelty and he had felt… alive. 

He had heard of how delectable the blood of thinking creatures could be, but he had never anticipated this feeling of fullness and how addictive it could be.

“It was so warm… from your blood, sweetheart,” he purred, feeling himself getting carried away.

You bit your quivering lip before replying, “Did it feel good?”

Maybe too carried away.

And when you shuddered again under his faint touch, it was as if he had been slapped back into another plane of existence.

He suddenly straightened himself and blinked.

What was he doing?

His abrupt change in demeanour was enough to earn a reaction from you, and he could see lust in your half-hooded eyes as you stared at him in confusion.

And just like a tidal wave that one couldn't hold back, he felt disgust and revulsion lacing themselves into a powerful mixture that caused him to take a step back.

His mind was flooded with Ava's accusatory words and the memories of him seducing you for his own benefit.

“Astarion?”

Your voice was miles away and he couldn't even bring himself to blink anymore.

The nauseating feeling was heightened by the fact that he had a very inconvenient erection strained against his trousers, begging for attention.

“Astarion… what is it?” 

Your voice seemed even more distant than before, as if he had been plunged into a well and couldn't get out.

Why couldn't he get out?

Why was his cock so hard, but his mind so repulsed by it?

And the impending feeling of dread began to slowly overtake him like storm clouds rolling over the mountains, bent on flooding the land below.

And when it began to rain in his mind, it poured.

He needed to get away.

He needed to get away from you.

You tried reaching out to him with your hand, but he flinched away. “Don't touch me!”

And he could see it in your eyes.

Pity.

Again.

“I – I have to go.”

And he didn't look back.

TBC