#wyll could still have been out to get karlach and that all stays the same

[pinacoladamatata]

I'm still so mad about the Wyll rewrite actually

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Astarion, Allusion to Astarion's Past (Sexual Assult/Dissociation)

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: Holy shit! It's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and reblogged and just...everything. I cannot tell you how much it means to be to know this story has resonated with so many people. I don't have any plans to continue this as a larger story (I still haven't played the game); however, if anyone would like to send requests for small one-shots or headcanons involving Astarion and this Asexual!Tav, feel free to send me an ask.

Also, sorry if I didn't tag you. There were a lot of request, so I stuck to those who asked on the previous chapter.

And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!!

Word Count: 5.2K

You didn’t sleep that night, but what else did you expect?

For hours you simply lay in the dark, staring at the window. The patter of rain was the only source of sound besides your own breathing. Even that small comfort didn’t last as the storm passed leaving behind cloud covered silence.

No tears came to you.  What had you to grieve over? Everything you felt had been a product of your imagination. You knew that.

Still, it ached.  There was a throbbing in your throat you couldn’t swallow down and a constant pressure behind your eyes.  You almost wished you would cry, just to get it out of your system. If you could have a nice little breakdown, there was a chance you could get over this. It would be the slap in the face you needed to accept reality. Maybe then you’d stop doing this to yourself.

All the same, it stayed there, pressing heavy on your chest until the sun teased the edges of the clouds beaconing morning.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. You couldn’t lie and wallow the rest of the day. You had things to do, places to be, worms to destroy. The sooner you had something else to occupy your thoughts the better.

With an effort you pulled yourself out of bed and slowly made your way to the dining room.

You were a bit surprised to see everybody already up. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale were already seated with plates of half eaten food in front of them.  Two seats were still empty, settings ready and untouched. A quick look around confirmed the rest, Astarion had yet to make an appearance.

“Morning everyone,” you said, trying your best to be cheerful as you sat yourself between Gale and Wyll.  

You could feel all their eyes on you, no doubt noticing the dark circles under yours.

“Morning,” Gale greeted. “I trust you slept well.”

He let out a small yelp of pain.

You looked up to catch him glaring at Shadowheart as she shot him a disapproving look.

You frowned. Did she just kick him?

“I mean, ah, did you lie comfortably?” he amended.

“Seriously?” Karlach questioned.

You swore you could feel the heat of Gale’s blush, as he grumbled into his toast. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” you asked.

“We just hoped you spent the rest of the night…pleasantly,” Wyll tried, and ultimately failed.

Your stomach flipped, as harsh, dreadful realization washed over you.  Yes, of course they would.

“You don’t look well,” Lae’zel noted. “After all his boasting, I had thought Astarion would leave his partners more satisfied.”

You didn’t say anything, deciding to take a bite of egg as an excuse. Now would be a great time for the ground to open and swallow you into the hells. Gods knew it would be an improvement.

“She’s right,” Shadowheart said, sounding a little annoyed to admit it. “You do look tired and not the good kind. Did something happen?”

“Did he hurt you,” Wyll said, his brow furrowing in sudden concern.

“What?! No!” you said quickly. “Nothing happened.”

“How’d you mean nothing happened?” Karlach put in. “We all saw what we saw. How could anyone turn down all of that?”

Fresh embarrassment washed over you, making you wish you could erase the last twenty-four hours and crawl into the nearest, deepest hole. You had spent the whole night worried about what Astarion would make of your vision, you had all but forgotten you had shared that part of yourself with all of your companions. Of course they would have their own interpretations.

“It wasn’t like that.”

A quick look around the table gave away the doubtful thoughts of all.  

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm. They weren’t going to believe you if you were emotional about this.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. As I said, nothing happened. We talked, and it became clear that we just want different things. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Now are we done or are you all going to keep chattering on like a bunch of fishwives?”

The silence at the table was palpable as everyone exchanged looks.

Alright, maybe being calm wasn't a realistic expectation, but you hadn’t lied. Sure, there were some details you neglected to share, but that really was the long and the short of it. He hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had you. It just didn’t work out.

The plain truth of it settled in your heart carving out a hollow space for it to lay in.

Gale was the first to act, clearing his throat. “Fair enough, the matter is closed. Please, accept our apology. With such an intimate group as ours, it’s sometimes easy to forget that one’s personal matters can be well and truly personal.”

He looked at the rest of the group, each nodding in agreement to various degrees of reluctancy.

“Just for the record though, if you need someone to knock some sense into that pretty boy’s head, you just need to ask,” Karlach offered. 

Despite yourself, you had to smile. “I’ll think about it.”

You then turned to Gale, who met you with kind eyes and a comforting smile. You let yourself be warmed by it, even if you still felt a little guilty for snapping. He really did understand. It was easy for heartbreak to recognize heartbreak.

“Thank you,” you murmured. 

To your surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to reach for words, but rather your hand as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. 

“Anytime.” 

“Good morning everyone. Gossiping without me?”

You whipped your head around to find Astarion standing near the head of the table, a sardonic smile on his lips and a hard glare in his eyes.  No doubt he had heard everything. 

Everybody shifted in their seats, glancing between you and Astarion. You averted your gaze, focusing hard on the table in front of you. 

Gale’s hand still rested over yours. Whatever comfort it had given you, faded as something akin to panic flooded your veins. In the next second, you rose from your chair, scraping it hard against the floor in your hurry. 

“I’ve still got some packing to do,” you said. “Be back down in a few.” 

Coward’s way out? Yes, but after the night you had, you figured you were entitled to it. 

Keeping your head down, you slipped past Astarion, feeling him watch you as you made your way back up the stairs. 

If you had lingered a moment, you might have caught the flash of hurt in his eyes. You might have noticed how his clothes were more rumpled than usual. You might even have seen his hand twitch with the instinct to reach for yours. But you didn’t see, and anything that might have happened disappeared in a brush of air. 

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

The next several days carried on in much the same way.  Not as torturous as that first morning, but still a drudge of avoidance and awkward silences. 

In your defense, Astarion seemed just as keen to keep his distance. Where he used to be your preverbal shadow, filling the hours of travel with idle teasing and conversation, now he kept to the back, his mouth decidedly shut. 

The others caught on and seemed determined to make up the difference. Karlach, Shadowheart and Wyll especially made a point to walk alongside you, telling stories and jokes in an attempt to make you smile. 

You did your best. They meant well, but in some ways they only served to emphasize the absence of another. 

Gale, on the other hand, had the foresight to try a different approach. He made it clear he didn’t expect you to talk, but always made sure you had the best spot by the fire and a little extra of whatever he made for the camp. You had to wonder if Tara had provided a similar comfort to him after Mystra. It was obvious he had the practice. 

Even Lae’zel offered to help you train it off, something about how your, “objectively weak body had left the rest of you vulnerable to attack”. A part of you felt the insult, but the gesture was appreciated. 

Honestly, all of this care was starting to make you feel guilty. None of them were giving Astarion the same courtesy. He wasn’t being shunted exactly, but the message was loud and clear; they were on your side. 

This was met by him taking a step back from the late night conversations. His interactions with the others were kept short and lacked his usual humorous flare. He took his shifts on watch alone and he spent even more time either roaming the forest or in his tent. 

The only person he consistently spoke to was Gale, which should have raised some alarm bells on their own, but you never caught what they were discussing. All you knew was Astarion never appeared especially pleased while Gale gave a look of someone begging the gods for patience. 

All of this was your fault. You just wanted things to go back to normal. Even if you couldn’t be with Astarion the way you imagined, you still valued his friendship.  If this kept up, there was a chance he might decide to leave all together. An olive branch was needed, something to signal you didn’t hold a grudge or expect anything more. 

The answer came to you one early evening as you took note of his haggard looks and less than graceful steps out of camp.  He hadn’t fed on you in a week and there was only so much deer and boar could do. 

You considered simply offering up your neck, but that felt too forward. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready to have him that close. The only other solution you could think of was to bleed yourself somehow. 

This proved more difficult than you first imagined. Astarion seemed to have an instinct for where to bite, balancing enough blood for himself without causing any permanent damage. You couldn’t boast the same. It took more than one cut to fill an empty goblet with what you hoped to be the right amount of blood. You’d ask Shadowheart to heal you properly later. Hopefully she’d accept a poorly executed knife trick as an excuse. 

You wrapped your wrist as best you could and, watching to make sure the others weren’t looking, slipped into Astarion’s tent. 

You were immediately hit with the scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy. A sense of calm washed over you at the familiar combination, settling comfortably in your lungs as you took in the space.

 A single candle remained lit, allowing just enough light for you to appreciate the rich purple and red fabrics lining the walls as well as the sheer number of pillows littering the floor. How he managed to pack so many was a mystery you doubt you would ever solve. The whole set up was down right ornate, but considering this was Astarion you were talking about, you shouldn’t have been surprised. 

It was only then you realized you’d never been inside before. He’d invited you more than once, but you’d always turned him down preferring to keep your feeding session in the open air. You had known, even then, any closer would give the wrong impression; all for naught it seemed.

You pushed the thought aside, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be some place you could put the goblet where he wouldn’t knock it over. Why did he have to keep a side table outside the tent?

A shuffle came from just outside. Focusing your ears, you caught the tread of boots on grass transition to the nearly silent carpet just outside the tent flap. You turned using those handful of extra seconds to school your features into something passively innocent as Astarion ducked inside.

His whole body froze, his arm holding the fabric above his head as his eyes went wide. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. 

You took advantage of his momentary shock to examine his appearance more closely. He looked…well, tired and more than a little confused. No blood marked his shirt or his lips. His pants appeared to have taken a tear or two from a bramble bush. Even his hair looked just a bit disheveled in a way so unlike himself.  

“No luck hunting?” you said, unable to keep the concern out of your voice. 

He stared, as if your words were coming from somewhere far away and required extra time to reach his ears.

“I’ve had better,” he finally said. 

You nodded in understanding, shifting awkwardly as your eyes went to the goblet in your hands. 

“Here,” you offered. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”

He gave a tight smile. “I’d say no offense taken, but this is me we’re talking about.” All the same, he took the cup, sniffing it cautiously. He blinked hard, his brows furrowing as he stuck his nose further into the cup and took a deep whiff. 

“Is this yours?” he asked. 

You shrugged, holding up your bandaged wrist. “Whose else would it be?”

His mouth parted slightly as if to say something before closing it again. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his tone oddly serious. 

“I know,” you assured. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead released a breath of a laugh, allowing whatever tension he had formed in those last few seconds to fall from his shoulders. 

“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it seems I can’t help it with you.” 

Before you could ask him what exactly he meant, he raised the goblet to his lips and drank. 

The effect was instantaneous. Your blood met his tongue and any control he had slipped away. His pupils dilated to those of a predator as he guzzled the whole thing down in two deep swallows. He let out a gasp of air before returning to the cup, licking the sides so not to waste a drop. A low hum of bliss came from deep in his chest as he savored the rest, allowing his fingers to scrap the bottom before bringing it back to his mouth. 

The sight should have left you horrified, but in truth, it was encouraging. Things would be different, but you could at least provide him this. 

“Do you need more?” you asked. 

This time his laugh was loud and genuine as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before licking the remains; yet another thing you found inexplicably endearing. He really was just a big cat sometimes. 

“Dangerous thing to offer me in this state, darling,” he said. “Luckily for you, I found a nice burrow of rabbits yesterday.” 

Once satisfied there was truly nothing left, he set the goblet down on the ground before turning his attention to your wrist. 

“Let me see,” he said, reaching out a hand. 

“It’s fine,” you promised. “I’ll get Shadowheart to look at it later.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that, give it here.”

Knowing there was no fighting him, you relented, allowing him to unwrap the bandages.  

He visibly winced as he examined the litter of harsh scratches along your skin. “What did you use? A rusty spoon?” 

“I had trouble finding a good vein,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. You hadn’t thought it looked that bad. 

“Oh is that all? And here I thought you’d lost an argument with a displacer beast.” 

You pressed your lips into an annoyed line, but Astarion was already digging around his pack, coming back with a salve and potion of healing.  

“Drink this.”

You shook your head, ignoring the pleasant little flutter in your chest at the gesture. “I told you, I’ll just ask Shadowheart.”

“Oh this isn’t just for you,” he said, dryly. “Do you think I want her believing you’d willingly butcher yourself just to give me a proper meal? Neither of us would hear the end of it.” 

A small flush of embarrassment worked up your neck. He was right, of course. The party really hadn’t been subtle in their disapproval. It was the reason you had tried for discretion. 

Without further protest you accepted the potion. 

This seemed to appease him as he quickly got to work on applying the salve. 

He had bought it not long after you had come to your little feeding arrangement. It helped to sooth small cuts and bruises while minimizing the threat of scars. He had initially offered to provide…other services to relieve the pain, but you had declined. This was the compromise. You’d offered to do it yourself, but he insisted, claiming it was the least he could do. In truth, it was all very…transactional. 

This felt different. The hesitation he so often held, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, was gone. His touch was gentle, his expression focused and his body oddly relaxed. It didn’t feel like an obligation, but an act of kindness, one he was more than willing to give. 

Any nerves that remained slipped away.  You could find a way to live with this. Certainly it was more than others had given you in the past. 

Once he was done, he pulled fresh bandages from his bag and began redressing your wounds with decidedly more precision than you had. 

“I am glad you’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was hoping we could talk.”

A sharp sting of anxiety pressed itself into your skin. 

“Oh?” 

He nodded, tying off the bandage. “I think it’s important.”

You swallowed. The instinct to run pulled at your feet, but you managed to keep it in check. You owed him that much. 

“Well, I’m here so…let’s talk.”

He breathed out an audible sigh of relief, raising his hands up as he took a small step back.

“Just stand there a moment. Don’t move.”

He spun around, rummaging through various bags before letting out a cry of triumph. He stepped back holding what looked to be a violin string glowing with magical golden light. 

Your head tilted to the side as your eyes narrowed. “Is that…?”

“Part of the violin, yes,” he admitted. “Bit of a story. Short version, Gale was able to extract one of the strings. It shouldn’t cause any permanent damage to the instrument, as far as I know.” 

You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “And Gale just let you pluck this from his tent did he?”

Astarion shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I, ah, may have had some trouble understanding how it worked and…inquired as to his assistance.”

“You asked Gale for help?” you asked, astonished.

“Don’t make me relive the experience,” he lamented. “He told me the strings themselves have different magical properties in order to create the effect you demonstrated the other night. Apparently this one alone compels people to tell the truth.” 

He then took the string and carefully wrapped it around his wrist before handing the other half to you. 

Your eyes widened, glancing between him and the offered cord. “What are you doing?”

“Leveling the playing field,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do that.”

His lips curved into a self deprecating smile. “I think I do though. I haven’t been honest with you and…while that’s not exactly unique to you, the regret I have is. So you see, it really is a selfish action. If I’m to be free of this, I need to know for certain you understand that what I say next is the truth…all of it.” 

Your mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The expression on his face was one you had never seen before. While he did his best to hide under his usual indifferent airs, his eyes gave him away. You’d never seen them so open and unsure. 

Slowly, you took the other end, feeling a familiar tingle spread through your fingers. 

“Alright,” you said, cautiously. “What’s your favorite color?”

Flashes of red shot across your vision, moonlit skies and a pair of eyes you only just caught to be your own before the image settled on something else entirely.

“Pink,” Astarion blurted.

Your eyebrows shot up as the start of a delighted smile spread across your face.

 “And orange,” he amended quickly, “and dark blue and…honestly just the color of the sky at sunrise.” He pouted as if annoyed at the words that escaped his lips, but he shook it off. “Alright, you had your little test run. Give me something harder.” 

You considered a moment. It was very tempting to continue on with some more embarrassing questions, but that wasn’t the purpose of all of this. Best to start at the beginning. 

“What did you think of me when we first met?” you asked.

He grimaced, guilt evident not just through his averted gaze but the tug of the string between you. “You were a target,” he admitted. “At best a convenient meat shield. You were just so…open, ready to trust. Manipulating you would be easy.”

You took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain between your ribs. You should have expected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle. 

“And that’s what you were trying to do the other night, manipulate me?”

“Yes.”

Another stab of guilt, a flash of your own back walking out of a candle lit room as a hand that was not your own reached hopelessly outward. 

Your actual jaw clenched. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Then what?!” you snapped. “Hells bells Astarion, do you even like me?”

“You drive me to acts of insanity,” he said indignantly, raising up the glowing cord around his wrist as proof. “Do you think I’d willing subject myself to days of Gale’s passive aggressive commentary on my personal life for just anyone? Of course I like you. Gods below!”

You stared, unable to deny the waves of exasperation mixed with the sound of your own laughter as heard through another’s ears. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in the chest of the body opposite you making your mind spin, as you tried to re-establish the divide. 

“Why did you ask me to come to you?” you asked. “What were you hoping to gain?”

Astarion took a deep breath. It was only then you noticed how tightly he was holding the chord linking you.

“I was hoping to get back on track,” he said, slowly. “I had a plan when we met. A nice simple plan. Seduce you, bed you, manipulate your emotions so you’d never turn on me. It was easy…instinctive.” 

He met your eyes and for the first time, you felt him fight against the images threatening to breach the gap between you. You caught the barest flashes, memories of half forgotten faces passing by one after another. Shame and vile brushed the edges of your mind, and quickly faded as Astarion regained control. 

“But, you seemed immune to my attempts,” he continued. “I could tell you enjoyed my attentions, but you never asked for more. My simple plan that had worked on countless targets, couldn’t get off the ground. And yet, you still gave me blood, protection…trust. I couldn’t understand it. I found myself wanting to know more, to know you. To anticipate what you would ultimately ask in exchange. And then that night, you showed me exactly what it was you desired.”

Something slipped through. You saw yourself in the center of the tavern with darkness surrounding you. A rise of fear entered your heart as you heard your name called from familiar lips. And then, the world shifted, light came back into the world and it was…beautiful. 

“I thought I finally understood you,” he said. “A poor repressed urchin who had been hurt one too many times. All that was required was a more gentle touch. I could provide that. It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

He paused, his expression softening. “And then you had to do the most inconsiderate thing and surprise me all over again: you asked for my heart, in exchange for yours. I should have been elated. It meant my plan had worked, not the way I intended, but you had fallen for it…for me. The trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I would fall for you.”

You stared, unable to say anything as a well of emotion threatened to burst from you. It was as if someone pulled a bow across your chest, creating a resonating sound that moved in harmony with your very soul. 

It was true, all of it. 

By some miracle, you wrestled back control over your lungs and tongue. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “Even if I had, would you have believed me?”

You averted your gaze. It was answer enough. 

“It’s alright,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Smart really. I wouldn’t have believed me either.” 

You nodded in appreciation, your mind still reeling from everything he had just confessed. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked. 

You frowned, unable to shake a question that had been stirring for some time. 

“Do you even want to have sex with me?”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his mouth falling open. “I’m standing here baring my soul to you and that’s what you ask?”

“You asked me what I was thinking,” you defended. “Besides, it’s a relevant question.” 

He looked like he wanted to argue, but let it go just as quickly with a huff. 

“Well?” you prompted. 

He made a series of non-commital noises, his mouth half forming words before being wrenched in another direction. The chord between you glowed brighter, twisting just a little deeper into his skin.

“I…don’t really know,” he said, slightly stilted, as if surprised by his own answer. “To be clear, I do find you physically enticing. In that aspect at least, I’d hardly qualify bedding you a chore, but... I spent two centuries using lust and desire to lure people back to him. In that time I developed the habit of taking myself out of my body, looking at it as if it were happening to somebody else.  Even in those rare times it could be pleasurable, I still walked away feeling nothing but disgust and loathing. I don’t want those feelings associated with you. At the same time, I can’t help thinking that if we were together, it would be different. But, don’t take that to mean I expect it. Like I said, I don’t even know if I want it. Honestly, before you said it, I didn’t know saying no was an option.”

You took all of that in, your heart clenching as the full weight of what Cazador did to him settled on your mind.  Red filed your vision, the sympathetic ache replaced with a rush of fury.  He was a dead man. One way or another, you would see Cazador bloodied by the end of all of this. But as quickly as it had come you let the emotion pass. This wasn’t about him.  You wouldn’t let him intrude any more on this moment. 

“What do you want from me then?” you asked, softly. 

To your relief, something familiar and teasing flashed across his face. 

“I thought I’d made that obvious.”

With his free hand, he cupped your cheek allowing his thumb to lightly caress your skin. His scarlet eyes burned not with lust, but something warmer and just as desperate. 

“You showed me the chorus of your heart. How could anyone look upon that and not desire it? The trouble is, the price you asked. I…I don’t know how to pay it. I don’t know how to be with someone that way, but I’m willing to learn. I want it all. I want you to have it all.” 

The connection between you burned hot in your hand, but you couldn’t let it go. It felt so warm, so real. It filled every empty part of you to the point of bursting and still you wanted more. You were insatiable. 

Astarion looked just as lost as you, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions for you to name. His body began to tremble. It was becoming too much. 

In an instant you pulled his hand away, unwrapping the chord from around his wrist and tossing it aside.

He took a sudden deep breath as if coming up for air after being submerged in deep water. 

“Shit,” he cursed, gulping for air. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm. 

Your eyes widened as you caught the angry marks left behind on his wrist. 

“Are you alright?”

He blinked hard as if clearing spots from his vision. “I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting that is all.” He turned his focus to you with a bewildered expression. “Does it always feel like that?”

“That’s admittedly a first for me,” you confessed. You reached out your hand, glancing at his injury. “Let me see.”

He followed your gaze frowning, as if surprised to note the welts forming on his wrist. Still he stepped closer allowing you to examine them without protest. 

“Does it hurt?” you asked. 

He shook his head. “Sort of numb, honestly, tingly.”

You nodded, swallowing hard to keep the rise of guilt and fear at bay. It didn’t help. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly. 

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t think a little thing like this is going to scare me off. I meant what I said. I intend to give you your fill.”

“You don’t have to give it all at once,” you promised. “I can be patient when it counts.” 

A sly smile turned at his lips. “I almost hope you won’t. You’re not the only one who's starving.”

Heat spread up your neck, something Astarion undoubtedly caught as he gave a low laugh. 

“Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what happens next?” he asked. 

“I’m…not sure,” you admitted. “Nobody else has ever given me the chance to figure that out.” 

He nodded slowly, before taking a small step back. His head tilted as if to examine you from every angle. A question started to form on your tongue just as the start of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly straightened before placing a hand on his chest and regarded you with a deep bow. 

You grinned, matching him with a curtsy of your own. 

He then offered his hand, which you easily took before he pulled you just a little closer. Your other hand found his shoulder while his pressed lightly on your waist. And then you did what was only natural. You danced. 

It wasn’t anything elaborate. There was no fire or sparks of magic. You simply moved together to a song of your own imagination. It stirred in your chest, the barest pluck of a melody, but it was yours and his; the promise of a symphony to come.

Tag List:

@ambrolyer, @cassiecasluciluce, @tamwritesstuff, @hallowedandhungry, @mangomonk, @amefuyuu, @righteous-scamp, @starved-kitten, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @twinkliker3000, @unrestrictedbyreality, @screechingphantommaker, @becksynthetic, @black-sapphic, @dicenete, @isharaneith, @sarcasticlittlebook, @catsandskyrimcafe, @sora-o-kaku, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ka-du-trur, @baldursgateslittlestar, @rakilein

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Before the Happiness

After developing feelings for Astarion, it becomes clear to you that this is uncharted territory...and not just for you.

Pairings: Astarion x female Tav

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, dual pov. MINORS DNI, 18+

Word Count: 4.4k

Requested: yes

A/N: Graphic made by me, I do not give permission to share it without asking.

The conversation and laughter around you had lulled to a dull roar as the night sky darkened. Sitting diagonal from Astarion at the campfire, you watched his lips move, almost in slow motion. You couldn’t focus on anything else – the rest of the party were conversing over bottles of wine that you all had found earlier in an abandoned village’s pub. Deciding to stay in the same campsite for two days as an extended rest, Karlach and Gale had the big idea of taking it easy and getting drunk – “to relax, and build morale!” Karlach had claimed.

Too bad you couldn’t take your eyes off of the fair-haired vampire across from you.

What started as an innocent crush – who could blame you, with Astarion being so cocky, and so charming, and so handsome? – quickly turned into something more. Now, you were unfortunately dealing with what you were sure was an unrequited love on one of Faerun’s biggest lady killers.

Figuratively, and literally.

“What say you, Tav?” Wyll asked, elbowing you gently. Snapping you back to reality, you immediately brought your goblet of wine up to your lips to buy yourself some time.

“Sorry, what?” You asked Wyll, keeping your gaze on your goblet. You felt a blush creeping to your lips…hopefully, no one had noticed your total focus on Astarion.

“Gale here was just saying that he could easily have taken on that hoard of goblins we came across this morning by himself!” Wyll chuckled, nodding towards Gale, “Him! Against 20 goblins himself! I say bullshit.”

“Now, now,” Gale interrupted, readying to defend himself, “I said if I had the proper time to prepare my spells correctly, I could easily fight against them-”

“Well, of course, if you had time to properly prepare for battle, you are more able to fight,” Shadowheart retorted, rolling her eyes, “But that’s not the point of battle.”

“Well…” You started as the party erupted into conversations about the designs of battle. As mini discussions started, you swept your eyes across the rest of the party, all who were animatedly debating whether they were for or against Gale’s point.

All, except for Astarion.

Once your eyes met his, you were locked on. He was absentmindedly swirling the wine in his goblet, his eyes unwavering against yours. Face completely unreadable, he caused heat to rise in you. You looked away quickly, only to check again to see if he was still looking at you.

He was.

You felt panic start in your fingertips as you gulped down the rest of your wine and immediately put your goblet down next to you. Standing, you wiped your hands on your pants.

“I’m going for a walk – I need some air.” You announced to no one (as they were still engulfed in their can-Gale-fight-20-goblins discussion). Without hesitation, you made your way to the creek a little bit beyond your campsite. Through the trees, the only noise was the fading of voices and the snapping of twigs beneath your camp boots. Finally reaching the creek, you were able to breathe out a sigh of relief, leaning against the nearest tree.

Your infatuation with Astarion was a point of panic for you – having never been in love (nor never had a partner before), you found yourself in undiscovered territory. You spent your whole life training as a fighter, not a girlfriend. So of course, the irony of it all would be that your first love would be a man who had so much experience, he would make the employees at Sharess’ Caress blush. He also happened to be a man that, though kind enough, wasn’t exactly a buddy. Astarion wouldn’t be the first person you’d reach out to in times of trouble at camp, no matter how much you wanted to. You and Astarion hadn’t had any talks where you were able to divulge your backstories – the only thing you knew about him was that he was a vampire, and his past with Cazador, really.

Oh, and that he was really, absurdly sexy.

You had only hoped that the others around you – especially Astarion – didn’t notice the extra time you spent staring at his face when you hoped no one was watching. Or the fact that your laugh was the loudest when he told funny stories around the campfire. Or that when travelling, you often found yourself walking near him.

“Are you alright?” A voice asked, forcing your eyes to pop open. You whipped around from the tree, finding Astarion step out from behind the forest. A friendly smile played on his lips, putting your thundering heart at ease slightly.

“Oh…yes, I’m fine. Thank you…I think I’ve had too much wine.” You said, quickly making up an excuse, “I guess my body has forgotten how to drink since we started this journey…since…we haven’t really had any wine…since…we started journeying.”

Smooth.

Astarion let out a chuckle, meeting you at the tree you were leaning against. “Ah yes, that makes…sense.” He paused the same way you had. You locked eyes and he broke out in a smile, and you realized he was teasing you. Your heart sped.

“You know what I mean…” You grumbled, kicking a rock in front of you and blushing.

“Yes, yes. I certainly do,” He paused for a moment, looking out at the creek. He didn’t speak, and you were suddenly aware of how loud the running of the water was. “I was worried about you when you ran off so suddenly. I was hoping you weren’t feeling ill.”

“Oh! Oh, no, I’m fine,” You felt flustered – Astarion? Worried about you? “Thank you, though…for checking on me.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second before returning to your eyes. For a moment, his eyes seemed to change…were they darker somehow? But he blinked, and they returned to his normal ruby red. He raised his eyebrows and he nodded, gracefully slipping his hands into his pants pockets. “You are welcome.”

“I’m feeling better, if you wanted to walk back to the campfire…with me?” You asked hesitantly. Gods, he was just a man! He wasn’t some sort of monstrous creature…so why did he make you so nervous?

Smiling, Astarion raised his arm as if to say, lead the way, “After you.”

You nodded and walked past him, ready to shake off your nerves. You committed to yourself to go back to the campfire and not look at Astarion once. You needed to be objective about your feelings towards him, no matter how strong they were. After all, you all had a mission to complete, and falling in love would simply get in the way. Leave your thoughts of Astarion when you were alone in your bed, drifting off to sleep – not when you were needed to be present.

Suddenly, Astarion gently grabbed your wrist. His fingers were ice cold as you expected, but it still sent a shiver down your spine. “I want to say something to you.” He started. You felt a lump in your throat, unable to speak. You simply nodded, your nerves making you unable to look at him.

“I have noticed that you and I haven’t been able to…get to know each other as much as the others,” His voice, barely above a whisper, was confident and sultry. “I would like that to change. I do enjoy your company very much. And after all, who knows how long we will be spending with each other until we can reclaim our minds from these wretched tadpoles, no?”

You swallowed and nodded, turning to look at him. His eyes glittered, mischievously. His signatured smirk was on his face as he slowly let go of your wrist. Somehow, his icy fingers left your skin burning.

“I would like that,” You eventually say, over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears, “I also enjoy your…” Gulp. “Company.”

“Wonderful,” Astarion said. “Well, now that that’s settled, let’s get back to camp, shall we?” And even though he originally had you lead the way, he started off to camp first, leaving you a few steps behind.

Not that you minded…you obviously had to use this time to collect your thoughts.

Astarion wasn’t quite sure what had come over him at the party’s get-together the previous evening, but once he had seen you (very obviously) fixating on him from across the fire, something in him snapped.

Sure, he had noticed you immediately when he had joined the party – your kind eyes, and beautiful hair. Not to mention your lyrical laugh, and curvy body…the same one where, the mere thought of could keep him up all night…

It was safe to say he had developed strong feelings for you, so Astarion decided to do what he did best – keep a safe distance, and play it cool. There was no way romance and love and feelings would be a good idea in any sense.

Especially when he knew that your feelings were probably just lust.

Love was something so far from Astarion’s lexicon, he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt it. No one could ever love him – not after everything he had done, or even because of who he was. Worthless, disgusting, abysmal…there weren’t enough words to describe Astarion’s shortcomings.

Astarion was very aware of what many others thought of him – his only redeeming quality to the world was his looks, so the idea that people only wanted to fuck and leave was not a new concept. Though he couldn’t necessarily get himself into that particular situation all that much while under Cazador (though he somehow was able to sneak away for an hour or two while completing a mission), he saw how people looked at him on this journey.

It would’ve been flattering to him if he didn’t hate himself so much.

So the idea that your feelings – which were always written all over your face – could be any more than a fantasy of bedding him, was preposterous. Up until now, Astarion would be able to push that aside for a night or two in order to satiate his (and your) need to get off, but something inside him told him that his feelings would get in the way. His fantasies about you weren’t just sexual…sometimes, his mind wandered to holding you in his arms, or simply eating a meal with you by the campfire.

Or even worse…a future with you. One that didn’t include tadpoles and battles, but of sleeping in a fluffy bed with you on a Sunday morning; of going to the town market together to complete your errands, and of owning a cat with you.

Which, truth be told, scared him more than anything.

So when he found himself following you to the creek after you had left the campfire that evening without even thinking about it, he knew he was in trouble. Gone was any sense in his brain; instead, he knew his heart was taking over, and for whatever reason, he decided to go along with it. Maybe it was because his feelings were too strong, or that he couldn’t help himself, but he knew he needed to finally be around you more.

Even if that meant you wanted nothing more than a dirty fuck.

A few days after the night at the campfire (and - surprise, surprise - another night of drinking the following evening), you found yourself once again headed towards Baldur's Gate, party and belongings in tow. Since then, you and Astarion had fallen into your familiar rhythm of what seemed like standoffishness, but now with more smiles and pleasantries peppered in. Which, was more than okay with you, since the very idea of Astarion becoming close seemed to scare you.

However, your heart couldn't help but flutter when the surprisingly flirty remark Astarion made was thrown your way. So much so that you didn't mind the curious glances from Lae'zel, or Gale.

"C'mon, you have to tell us!" Karlach pleaded while on the road, her voice a hoarse whisper as to not draw attention, "What is going on between you and Astarion?! Don't think I didn't notice, soldier...him running after you the other night? And now he's flirting with you...complimenting you?! The others may not be noticing all that much, but I certainly am!"

You laughed nervously and swatted your hand in the air as if to say, it's nothing! "Oh, you know Astarion. He flirts with everyone!"

"Yeah, but this is the first time he's flirting with you," Karlach retorted. "Which, took long enough since Gods, you're hot! But, don't think I haven't noticed the change in attitude between you two."

A blush crept to your face as you felt yourself unable to look away from the back of Astarion's head, who was walking a few paces ahead of you, discussing something with Halsin very intently. Your mind wandered to other things as your eyes scanned his body...his back, his behind...how both of them would look naked.

"Alright, I'm leaving you to whatever weird fantasy is currently going on in that brain of yours, okay?" Karlach finally said, pulling you out of your daydream. She playfully shoved your shoulder and walked faster, stepping in line with Shadowheart at the front of the pack. As she passed, Astarion slowly turned his head to look at you, Halsin still blabbering away in his ear. Your heart leapt to your throat as you locked eyes with him.

He had definitely heard.

The night had fallen silently, the only noise in camp being crickets chirping away. The oil lamp in your tent flickered as you pulled the blanket on your bed closer to your body. The book you were reading was propped up in your lap, and you reveled in the peace of the evening - retiring to your tent early, you heard exactly when everyone else had gone to sleep. Sure, you probably should have been sleeping already since Wyll insisted on an early morning start, but you wanted to enjoy your book for just a few more moments.

Suddenly, a rustling came from the front of your tent, the sound of someone announcing themselves.

"It's me," Astarion's voice called, "Are you decent?"

"Um-" You threw the book closed and swept the blanket off of you in a panic, though there was literally nothing to panic about. Rising from the bed quickly, you started to pace your tent, "Yes. Come in."

The flap to your tent was quickly undid and thrust open. Astarion strode in and redid the flap with ease. He looked down, and once he realized you had enchanted your tent with a wooden floor, slipped off his camp shoes. When he looked back up at you, he smiled.

"Good evening, darling."

"Good evening." You said, holding your hands behind your back. You plastered a smile on your face, trying to suppress the urge to smooth your hair. A moment of silence passed by before you snapped into action, "Would you like to sit?" You asked, motioning to your bed.

"Ah, yes. Thank you." Astarion said awkwardly, moving towards the bed. He sat at the far corner, causing you to sit at the opposite side.

How funny...with how badly you wanted to jump his bones, you'd think you wouldn't be on basically the other side of the world.

"Well, darling, I just came here tonight to...see how you were doing?" Astarion started, looking at you. You couldn't help but smile as he leaned back on the footpost of your bed.

"How I'm doing?" You clarified.

He nodded, "Yes, as friends do. That's what we're working towards," He paused, his eyes flickering down your body. Then, his eyes did the thing - darkened slightly, causing an indescribable look to cross his face.

Suddenly, you recognized that it wasn't an indescribable look.

It was lust.

"Friends, correct? That's what we're looking for." He finally finished, meeting your eyes again. This time, his eyes stayed dark, running his tongue quickly over his lips to moisten them.

You heart began to thud and you shifted in your nightclothes, arousal springing in your belly. Just Astarion's look alone and you were suddenly putty in his hands.

"Y-yes. Friends...that's what we are." You quietly confirmed. Feeling bold - you couldn't believe that Astarion was feeling lustful towards you! Could it be a mistake? - you scooted a bit closer and leaned in slightly, "Unless you had...other plans."

Astarion smirked and cocked and eyebrow, mirroring your body language by scooting closer. "Darling...are you coming on to me?" His voice was low, floating to your ears. You began to feel warm, a bit of sweat pooling on your brow. "If so...well, that changes everything."

"Does it now?" You murmured, staring at his lips. Your boldness surprised you - you were surprised that the first time you took a chance with Astarion was working in your favor.

Not that you were complaining.

As your heart started to beat faster, Astarion slid closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies. His hand slowly snaked up your side, his pointer finger lightly tracing your thigh. He moved in, his lips mere inches from yours.

"Say the word", He said, his voice ringing in your ears, "And tonight, I'm yours. But I will not continue unless you say it."

Your belly pooled with heat, and you couldn't contain yourself, no matter how nervous you were, "Then be mine tonight."

At once Astarion was on top of you, his lips pressed against yours. Spreading his legs so that yours were in between his, he pressed himself down on your body, his erection already prominent. You moaned into the kiss, causing him to deepen it.

"Astarion," You breathed as he pulled away slightly, starting to push your sleep shirt up from the bottom. He smiled as he quickly looked into your eyes, finally finding your lips with his again.

"If this is what friendship means for us, then I cannot wait to get closer." He spoke teasingly, his words sloppy, encased in your lips. You giggled through the kiss and suddenly gasped as you felt his cold hands on your sides, under your shirt.

You heart raced as your hands found their way to Astarion's shirt, pulling it above his head. You ran your fingers down his chest, taking in the sight before you. He paused, obviously loving the attention. A smirk played on his lips as he pushed your shirt above your head, eyes widening as your bare chest was finally on display.

"Gods, you're gorgeous." He purred, maintaining eye contact as he slowly lowered his head to latch his lips on to one of your erect nipples. You immediately moaned as his tongue swirled around your breast, leaving evidence of saliva around your nipple.

"Fuck, Astarion." You grumbled, your back arching into his mouth. He smiled but continued with his mouth, his hands finding their way to your soft pants. Without ties or buttons, Astarion was able to easily push them down, and you helped by kicking them off of your ankles.

"Darling, I can't wait to take you all in," He said, his mouth rising to yours again. One of his hands found its way to your neck, holding on to the side, while resting on his elbow. His other hand met your clit, immediately rubbing circles, "You're already so wet." He chuckled.

"You feel so good," You retorted as an explanation. Your thoughts were swimming overwhelmingly - you couldn't believe you were finally in bed with Astarion. You had fantasized about this moment basically since you had met him, and being here felt better than you could have ever imagined.

Say the word, and tonight, I'm yours. His words rang in your brain, causing your face to flush even more.

Tonight.

Tonight.

But what about after tonight?

You hadn't much experience with lovers, aside from the few and far between "relationships" as a teen, so you didn't know what was supposed to happen after this night. Were you supposed to go back to normal...as friends?

Suddenly, a pang of panic spread through you - the idea of going back to normal, as just friends, was painful to you. Here you were, with Astarion finally as a lover, someone you've come to care for deeply.

How deep it was going to hurt if you couldn't continue on with him. How deep it would hurt if you gave yourself to him like that, only to have him take you and discard you.

You snapped back to reality, realizing that many moments of silence from you had gone by. You hadn't even felt anything Astarion was doing, and he noticed, quizzically looking at you while continuing to work on your clit. You felt anxiety rise to the surface violently, and you suddenly sat up in the bed.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, stop. Stop!" You said, immediately criss-crossing your legs. Astarion, shocked, sat back on his knees, his glistening chest heaving.

"I'm sorry! Did I do something wrong?" His lips were full and swollen, his eyes wide. You recognized the look of fear on his face, causing your heart to drop.

"I can't do this," You spoke frantically, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry I just...can't."

"Oh...kay," Astarion spoke slowly, seemingly afraid to startle you, "What's wrong?"

Your thoughts were still jumbled, the anxiety still at the surface, "I just...I just can't have you dismiss me after tonight!" Your voice was shrill, you knew it, but you couldn't stop.

Confused, Astarion slid closer. He was quiet for a moment, handing over your blanket. You took it, covering yourself, silently thanking him for the gesture.

"'Dismiss' you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side, "What do you mean, 'dismiss' you?"

"You know..." You said, almost panting from the panic, "Dismiss me! Like your...your other lovers!" You waved your hand in the air to accentuate the point, "Here I am, with true, deep feelings of love for you, and all I am to you will be another notch in your bedpost!" You sighed, finally catching your breath, "And I know I said yes to this, but truth be told I am not...experienced...with someone who is as experienced as you, and I know I said yes because I couldn't help myself due to my feelings for you. But I cannot go back to just friends after this, to party members after this. Like nothing had happened. I cannot be discarded..." Finally deciding to look at him, you felt tears spring to your eyes, "I think that will break my heart."

"Darling," Astarion whispered, taking your hand in his. "What makes you think I planned to discard you after this?"

"Isn't that what you want?" You asked, allowing the small tears to fall freely, "To just...fuck?"

"Gods, no!" Astarion cried, moving closer and smiling, "That's what I thought you wanted!"

"What?!" You asked, matching his smile, "What do you mean?"

"I thought you only wanted to bed me," He said, squeezing your hand, "That's why I came here tonight - because I thought it was what you wanted. My whole life, for as long as I can remember, my body has been used for others. I've never had someone bed me and want to stay...You know my history with Cazador...you know what I've been subjected to. I've never had anyone...care...for me before," He looked down, his voice softening, "...are you saying that you care for me?"

You nodded slowly. Bravely, you reached your hand to touch his cheek, causing him to look up to you again, "I care for you...deeply. I've fantasized about this moment since I've met you but..." You tried to find the proper words, "I'm not quite sure I'm ready for it. I have little experience and, I know that sounds young, but-"

"My darling, I would never ever push you to do something you don't want," Astarion interrupted, shaking his head, "If anyone knows about being forced to do things you don't want, it's me. Truth be told...it's quite a relief to hear you say that...I'm not...quite sure my body is ready to be touched in that way...right now," He smiled sadly, "Not by someone I care for deeply. Not in a relationship I want to grow more then just...sleeping with one another. I find that it is hard to think of myself sexually due to...my past. And I'd rather move past that before I..." His words trailed off, as if he didn't want to continue.

"Astarion," You whispered. "I won't hurt you like that. Just like you didn't want to hurt me."

He smiled finally, taking your hand closer to his mouth. Gently, he kissed your knuckles, a smile playing on his lips, "The last thing I will ever do is hurt you."

"So..." You gently nudged, "You're saying that you care deeply for me as well?"

Astarion looked at you seriously, continuing to hold your hand. He nodded, "I do. I'm terrified, but I do. I don't know what this is, and I don't know what it will become, but I've come to realize that whatever it is...I want to do it with you," He chuckled to himself, "A terrifying thought, my heart in your hands."

"And mine in yours." You spoke. Your heart was thundering with an overflow of joy - after all this time, this new revelation felt like a sunrise after a dark and stormy night. After a moment of silence, you tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, "Tonight, I think we just lay together. We don't need anything else. But I would like to spend time with you."

Astarion's eyes glittered as he nodded again, noticing your sleep clothes on the ground and picking them up. As he slipped his shirt back on, he laid beside you in bed, hesitantly putting his arms around you.

"I've never just...lay with someone before."

"There's a first for everything." You said mildly, turning to him in his arms. He smiled, gently kissing your forehead.

"I'm scared." He offered. You nodded, knowingly.

"I know. So am I."

"But before the happiness, there is always fear." He said. He looked at you, sincerity and kindness in his eyes. Gently, you met his lips with yours, trying to muster as much courage and support as you could through a kiss. When you pulled back, you smiled at him.

"And there will be a lot of happiness."

-----

What did you all think? I'm so sorry for the long break! I'm back! As always, reblogs, likes, and comments mean the WORLD for writers and are much appreciated!

My inbox is OPEN for requests!

[autistichalsin]

Oh are the entitled little babies doing their "the game would have been literally perfect if Halsin hadn't been given the ~4 hours more of voice lines extra than he would have had if he was just a camp follower" tantrum again?

Must be Tuesday.

For the record, Halsin being given four hours extra of voice lines did not cause:

Wyll to have less content; if you think Wyll deserved more, you should be mad at Lae'zel, not him, as they're the ones who shared a writer (and it's clear his writer favors Lae'zel)

Minthara to have less content; if you think she deserved more, you should be mad at Karlach, not her, as they're the ones who shared a writer (In fact, quite the opposite of "stealing content" from poor baby Minthara, Halsin being added is part of the reason Minthara was added at all, because they would never have added a romanceable companion of one gender without also adding one of the other gender; if it wasn't for fan demand for Halsin, Minthara too would have stayed in act 1. Further, Minthara actually has three minutes more of voice lines than him)

Astarion to have nearly twice as many voice lines as Wyll

Wyll facing numerous bugs, including to his romantic greetings

Some characters, especially Karlach and Wyll, having unsatisfying story arcs

And before you say "but if they hadn't been busy adding Halsin's kisses they could have been free to fix Wyll's glitches sooner!" Those are different teams. Programmers are not artists are not writers. Once the kisses were drawn, it would have taken minutes to program them into the game, compared to the weeks-long endeavor identifying and fixing bugs is.

"But why couldn't Halsin's writer have written for Wyll and Minthara instead?! Halsin still ruined the game!" I hear you crying. One, that's not how the process for Larian to allocate writers for each character works, but even if it was, why are you complaining that Halsin was given a writer to share with another character and not that Astarion was given MULTIPLE writers? Astarion is literally the only character who actually could be accused of being shown favoritism by Larian.

Halsin's spellcasting lines were literally broken for over a year, and his point-and-click lines were broken for half a year, and there was a bug for nearly that long where traveling from act 2 to act 1 would cause him to die, and you still think that Halsin getting a handful of kiss animations, and those animations being used to tease patch 6 (with Halstarion and Shadowzel kisses both being used) is a sign of "favoritism"? Why then do you not say this about every character who was given new kiss animations?

And by the way, you really give the game away when you say "Larian should just go in the code and remove Halsin entirely". Because that would take months of story, animation, AND programming work- it would be an all-hands-on-deck effort. Even if we ignored that Larian is discontinuing story updates after patch 7, this would literally guarantee no companion ever gets another update again. Even if you amend it to "Halsin shouldn't be able to leave act 2" we are still talking about the same thing. If you say this, you make it blatantly obvious that you literally don't think too much work was put into Halsin, you just plain don't like his character and are using him as a scapegoat over things that actually did go wrong at Larian. You're cutting off your nose to spite your face, and your goal of your precious baby getting more content is secondary at best to hating Halsin.

And for the record, Minthara has three MORE minutes of voice lines than Halsin, so you can't even say she was in any way mistreated compared to Halsin. Further, if you look at who has received how many new lines in post-launch patches, Halsin is near the bottom and Minthara is near the top. There's more of a case for Larian showing favoritism to Minthara than there is for them showing favoritism to Halsin, seeing as Larian keeps adding dialogue for her good path recruitment, and backed out of adding the ultimatum to the game because Minthara fans whined that it was too mean to her. But I don't go around crying that Minthara being added to the game literally is the reason I can't kiss Halsin in act 2, because that would be insane.

The ONLY companion who has a case for being mistreated compared to others is Wyll compared to the OTHER ORIGINS, not to Halsin.

[grims-sunshine]

hello! How are you? I see your requests are open? If it's alright, can i request some angst, but with a happy ending because I'm too damn soft🥲 Fem Tav being absolutely devastated when Astarion confessed but also that he was originally manipulating and using her? I never see anyone writing Tav being upset over that, like she's in love with him, but is rightfully angry and upset with him and just sobs while avoiding him for a while? 🥲

Hi hi anon! I'm good, thanks for asking <3 I hope you're alright too!

I love this idea so much aaaaah! I had to start writing pretty much immediately ahaha

Thanks so much for the request, I hope you enjoy it <3

🤍 Feel Better 🤍

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: angst with a happy ending, some mild anxiety, arguing, Tav says a few not so nice things maybe

"I care about you."

It's true when you say these words to Astarion. At least you think it's true. At least it was true just five minutes ago.

You're pretty sure it's still true.

You pull Astarion into a hug, and aren't sure if you do it because you want to hug him, or because it feels like the right thing to do.

He hesitates for a moment, but puts his arms around you as well. You're overcome with a wave of happiness that he hugged you back, then sadness that he just admitted to having manipulated you, then anger that you were dumb enough to fall for it.

When he holds your hand, you see a glint of sincerity in his eyes. But you're not sure you can trust your own judgment anymore. Part of you wonders if he actually means it this time.

You know it wouldn't make sense for him to lie again, right after confessing his last lie and admitting that he felt bad for it.

But it didn't make sense for him to lie the first time either.

You've been defending Gale when the others were mad about his secret, and he wasn't sleeping with you. You tried to stand up for Wyll when Mizora showed up, and he hadn't shown even a hint of interest in you. You sided with Karlach and helped her deal with the paladins when you didn't even know her yet.

In short, you've been doing your damnedest to protect the people around you, not because you wanted anything in return, but because you're all in an unfortunate situation, just trying to stay alive, and you believe it'll be better for all of you to help each other. You would've done the same for Astarion, without him ever doing so much as touch you.

Your thoughts cause unease to rise within you, getting worse with every second. Once he lets go of you, you excuse yourself, rushing off to a quiet place, out of view from the others.

You sink to the ground, leaning your head back against the wall as your vision goes blurry. Before you even notice it, tears stream down your face and you suppress a sob.

You feel betrayed. Astarion played with your feelings just to gain a benefit from you, with seemingly no care how it would make you feel. You should've gotten angry at him, told him off for manipulating you, screamed at him for hurting your feelings.

Instead, you gave him a hug and said you care about him.

Underneath the anger and hurt, your feelings for him are still there, maybe stronger than ever. If you could just move past this, maybe the two of you can be happy together after all.

It makes you feel like a child, thinking that you're in some kind of fairy tale romance. But you're not the protagonist of a storybook, and you're starting to have serious doubts that Astarion is the prince who will sweep you off your feet and bring you eternal happiness.

And yet, that small part of you makes you decide to stay with him for now and hope everything will work out for the better. You're not sure if you're naive, stupid, or if Astarion really is worth trying, but you trust your gut feeling, even when your brain is telling you to break things off immediately.

Still, you can't help feeling hurt over everything that happened, so over the next couple of days you pull away from Astarion. It's not your intention, but whenever you're close to him, you start to feel dizzy, sick even. You feel your chest tighten and a knot form in your stomach that gets worse the longer you're around him.

You used to not get enough of being close to you, now it feels like your whole body recoils against his presence.

Astarion doesn't seem to notice that anything has changed -- Or if he does, he doesn't show it. If anything, he's become even more affectionate with you.

He's been seeking out your touch more often, giving you occasional hugs and stealing kisses from you. They make your heart beat faster, but you can't tell anymore if it's because you love him or because it sends your brain into overdrive each time, wondering if he's doing it because he wants to be close to you or because he wants to keep you hooked so you won't turn away from him now.

You hate that you have to question him. You hate that you feel like you can no longer trust him when you blindly would've put your life in his hands just a few days ago.

To make things worse, life has decided to hurl even more struggles at you while you're dealing with your feelings.

The Shadow-Cursed Lands have been getting especially cold at night. You try to stay as close to the fireplace as possible, but it feels like the darkness sucks away any warmth provided by the fire, so you're left shivering and wishing you could lie in a warm bed with several blankets instead.

"Wanna cuddle a little for warmth?" Astarion's voice catches you off guard and you almost flinch when you notice him standing beside you, watching you shiver and grasping your arms.

"Not that I have much body heat to give off, but, you know… I could be there for you in spirit." He continues, giving you a smile that looks almost a little shy.

You're hesitant at first, but something about the way he looks at you plugs at your heartstrings. You can't resist him, not when he looks like he's sending silent prayers to the gods that you'll agree.

"Yeah, sure. At the very least you'll block off a bit of the cold, right?" You say, earning a chuckle from him.

"I'll do my very best to shield you from the cold, darling."

He settles down facing you, wrapping one arm around you to pull you closer to his chest.

You try your best to relax, but your body still tenses around him, even when you try to just swallow down your feelings.

You lie in silence for a while, until Astarion sighs.

"Is everything alright, dear? You've been acting a little off lately. I wasn't sure if I should mention it at all, but to be honest, I am a little worried." His tone is serious, void of the usual playfulness in his voice.

Damn it. He noticed.

"It's nothing, really," you say, hoping that he'll drop it. Instead, he just looks at you, sceptical.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me, you know." He frowns brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's just," he hesitates, like he's unsure of what to say, "I feel like you've started avoiding me ever since I opened up about my feelings. So, I've been thinking, maybe I misread the signs and you actually never wanted to move past… Whatever the hells it was we had before," he rambles. Then, a little quieter, he adds, "You know, I've never done this whole relationship thing, and I really don't want to make a fool of myself by pursuing someone who doesn't like me that way." He lets out a nervous chuckle.

Oh hells no.

"Make a fool out of you?" The words break out of you, louder and angrier than intended. "What about me, who made a fool out of herself the whole time thinking you actually liked me?" You should stay composed, calm yourself before you say something you regret, but at that moment, all the complicated feelings you've been having swirl together and explode within you. "You didn't stop once to think about that, did you? But when it's about you having to deal with something unpleasant, suddenly it's a problem. Don't you think that's a little selfish of you?"

By the way Astarion looks at you, you'd think he'd just been slapped. Then he averts his eyes and you feel his hands tightening, gripping the back of your shirt.

"Right," he sighs. "I deserve to be called selfish, I suppose."

Astarion takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he thinks about what to say next, before he relaxes it again. "I know what I did to you was wrong. I manipulated you and you didn't deserve that. At all." His voice quivers a little as he continues to speak. "And I know it's no excuse, but this is what I've done for two centuries. Manipulate people to avoid getting hurt. I have no damn idea how to navigate a relationship with someone who isn't trying to make me suffer at every turn, or someone who I know will meet a terrible end because of me."

He looks at you again with a pained expression. "I really do care about you, despite what I've done, you know? I didn't intend to care about you, but you crushed all my intentions just by being your wonderful, amazing self. And if you're willing to give me another chance, I promise to make this right. I promise I won't ever try to deceive you again. I want to be someone worthy of your love and I'll do what I can to be that kind of person."

This time you're absolutely certain that he's sincere. There's not a sliver of doubt in your mind about that.

You don't even realize that you haven't said anything in a while until you notice Astarion grow increasingly nervous, looking at you like he expects you to cuss him out and tell him to leave any second.

You grab his hand and press a kiss to his palm. "I am willing to give you a chance," you say, seeing the instant wave of relief rush over his face. "I know you're new to all of this, and I know you've been through a lot. I should've talked about this sooner instead of just avoiding you. And I shouldn't have yelled earlier either. So I'm sorry as well."

Astarion presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into a close hug. "So things are good between us now, right?"

You nod, leaning in to kiss his cheek before nuzzling into his chest. "Yeah, everything's alright."

Title inspired by this

[littlelostmabari]

I went off script. I needed to procrastinate.

Ok look. So, and stay with me here, @miradelletarot posted a kiss roulette and then @waterdeep-weavemoss posted an ask and I realized that Mira might want to read snippets instead of getting asks so I asked an RNG to give me a prompt and I got #21 first but I dun wanna choose that’s why I wanted a RNG in the first place!!!!!11!!

So I asked again and here is #5: "A firm kiss". Not beta read, written in an hour, so forgive me if there are typos.

Pairing: Gale x gn!Reader (undescribed other than you're shorter than Gale)

Wordcount: 1k

CW: Blood, wounds, all the gross things you find in Orin's temple. Spoilers for Act 3.

(Dividers by cafekitsune)

The pounding in your head is the first thing you notice as consciousness enters your mind. The pounding of your head, and then rapidly the smell of refuse and blood. The stone slab that served as your place of rest was uncomfortable at best, and the lack of support to your hips and neck and knees offers secondary pain. The next sensation was skin rubbed raw against your wrists and ankles, and those superficial wounds were the first things that were tingling as Shadowheart’s sixth level Heal poured into the cracks and aches and throbbing pain. Your eyes still refused to open, your body denying the trauma of your incarceration.

“They're okay!” you hear Karlach shout from somewhere to your right, as a blast of heat rolls over you from the same direction. You’d fixed her arcane engine, so it couldn’t have been your dearest tiefling friend approaching. “They're okay! Fringe’s got em!” Another blast, and this time, as you roll a parched tongue over cracked lips, you can taste the sweet smell of the Weave being summoned into a raging conflagration. This time you hear the noise of something exploding, and your eyes fling open at the threat. Your vision is occupied by the darkness of a high ceiling, but a wisp of silver draws your attention to the left where Shadowheart has her eyes closed in concentration. One hand is on your exposed stomach, the sensation of which slowly enters your mind; the other hand is raised with palm pressed forward in prayer, wrapped in Selûne’s white glow. 

You realize that your breaths have been shallow, but something in your lung expands under the cleric’s care, and your first deep breath enters your lungs. With it is the smell of death and decay, and the familiar stench of the undercity. The rattling of your breath coincides with the final stages of the spell, and Shadowheart opens her eyes to meet yours. There are tears mussing her eyeliner, the black staining against her pale skin and framed by her paler hair. She collapses on top of you with a sob, her arms pulling your head into her shoulder. Aches and bruises that the Heal could not reach cry out as you snake your arms around her as well, clutching her tightly. 

Stomping feet approach from your right, and Shadowheart releases you gently. A month ago she would have shied from such emotion, but there was tenderness in her gaze that hesitantly left your face and looked up. You follow, and Karlach is there with a grin and a hearty slap on Shadowheart’s shoulder. The wince on Shadowheart’s face evokes a chuckle from deep in your belly which only results in more aches. With Karlach’s help, you finally sit up on the stone slab, and then stand. Your feet slough through the remnants of the battle, and the remnants of Orin’s armor and jewelry fail to catch your notice as he sprints up the stairs, Wyll following quickly behind. 

Gale stops at the precipice, out of your arms reach, staring. His mouth is open, and if you were on firmer footing you would have made a joke about him being speechless. You can see the tears in his robe, the scorch marks from where the battle has taken its toll on his person. The smell behind you suggests your evocation wizard had destroyed the very memory of this place with a pair of upcast Fireballs. You can see his mind working, his eyes darting to your face and then to your ripped leathers, your bare feet and your hair matted with blood and bile. There is an intense quiet as the others watch, waiting for the ice to break. 

“I’m okay,” you finally cough, though your lungs rattle with the effort. “I’ll need some help getting back but —” 

He closes the distance before you can finish your sentence. One hand frames your right cheek, the other tangles itself in your hair at the back of your head, and his lips are on yours. Your hands unwrap from holding yourself and clamber desperately to feel him, whining as fingers find his robes and bury themselves. The kiss is bruising against your cracked lips, and you are filthy from your captivity, but Gale shows no sign of minding. His words from the Underdark echo in your mind, and you realize that this isn’t about seeing you in battle but the fact that he thought you were dead and you’re not and you’re alive and you’re kissing him. The hand from your cheek slides down your shoulder and your arm and finds its place on your hip where he digs fingers into your side. It hurts, but it is a pain you find yourself desiring because it means he’s there in front of you and you are well enough to hold him. 

This was a far cry from his normal gentle touches, quiet murmurings, easy loving moments. You realize that you had heard the clatter of his staff against the stones, a sin he would have barked at you for performing only a ten-day ago. He had not broached your lips with his tongue, and you found yourself desperate for even the rotten air of the cavern, given the way he was pressed so firmly against your body. When you finally could bear the lack of breath no longer, you unwrap your fingers from his robes and press palms against his chest. A gentle push and he releases your lips and pulls back, refusing to move his hands from your nape and your hip. His eyes dart between yours with concern and fear. 

“My love,” he whispers. It comes out as a low whine. You feel your mouth pulling up into a soft smile, and your head tilts gently to the side. Your cheek presses against his bloodied wrist and you close your eyes, taking solace in the simple fact that the two of you stand together. Alone, as it turns out, as Shadowheart and Karlach and Wyll are on their way out of the temple to soothe their own wounds. 

You feel Gale’s arm slide along your cheek until his elbow is crooked around the back of your head and you are gathered in the safety of his chest. His neck stretches up until his chin can rest on the top of your head, and you both take several deep breaths until your hearts are settled. 

Pain and aches will fade, your cracked lips will heal, and the blood will wash away. Eventually. For now, though, you are whole. 

[atsadi-shenanigans]

You Could Just Ask

Summary:

“You still gonna be a jackass to our friends instead of just asking me to pleasure you?” you say. He swallows. His adam’s apple bobs. “If this is my reward, absolutely.” He can’t see you smile at this angle. He can feel your grip leave his cock to slide your fingers through his hair before you grab. Still slow, still steady, giving him plenty of opportunity to stop you. He don’t. He lets you pull his head back, bare his throat, and only whimpers and shivers against you.

Or: Astarion is terrible about communicating what he wants. But Eleanor is getting good at translating gremlin.

Astarion has been in a fucking mood for two days now. It’s driving you nuts, it’s driving everybody nuts, and by all accounts, it’s driving him nuts. Ain’t nobody can put a finger on it, neither. He’s well fed, y’all went on a murder spree day before yesterday, and he even found a nice, silk jacket to wear around camp.

Man’s got it made.

And decided to be a bitch about it.

You sit at the breakfast fire, needlessly poking at the embers with a stick while he makes snide swipes at Gale’s cooking (which he don’t eat), Karlach’s clutter (she just found a stuffed owlbear to match Clive), and Lae’zel sharpening her weapons (he got a point, there).

Even Wyll stares at the fire, shoulders set in a tense line. Something’s gonna snap if somebody don’t do something.

“It’s not as if you can deal any real damage,” Astarion says to Shadowheart, who tried to get him off Gale’s ass and is now taking the brunt of it. “We all saw how accurate your spells were in the temple.”

She looks all cool and collected. Just lifts one of her eyebrows. But her knuckles are white as her fists tremble. Shadowheart fought off the mother superior of her former, well, it ain’t called a church, here. But she fought the bitch and won and she paid for it.

“That’s it.” You stand

Astarion clocks the movement and turns to face you (stares down his nose at you; or tries to since you two are the same damn height).

“Y’all wanna head out?” you say over your shoulder to the others as they stash their day gear into their packs. “I think we’ll stay here, today.”

“Gladly,” Gale mutters in an outside voice.

“Welcome to it,” Karlach says which means hoo-boy, even she’s getting pissy.

Wyll gives you a blank look, that slowly morphs into a sly “good luck” sort of grin. Turd. Everybody thinks the Blade of Frontiers is so upstanding, much nobility, wow. But Wyll is a sly little shit, is what he is. He just hides it real good until it’s time to strike.

They all shuffle on outta there double quick. Astarion watches them go as he checks his nails for damage that ain’t there.

Then you’re alone—well and truly, Shadowheart and her half-elven hearing—and you turn to your exasperating lover.

“The fuck was all that?” you say.

He just looks at you, all unimpressed. Sniffs. “What was what, dear? You’ll have to be more specific.”

You will not throw your camp slipper at him. He dodges too well, and then you got to go fetch the damn thing before either Scratch of Sweetums gets it and demolishes it (or drops it in the river, bad dog) (but not really bad bad dog, and he got pets later on, anyway).

“You’re being a dick,” you say.

To which he, predictably, rolls his eyes. “As if it’s my fault we’re surrounded by incompetent idiots.”

His gaze flicks down. Just for a second. You almost miss it, but it landed on the top of your tunic. You got yourself a new one of those, too. But only to wear around camp, cause it’s got itself a damn titty window under some satin neck straps. Astarion’s pupils flare wide a second, and then he glares at you as if challenging you to comment.

You been together several times, in several way by now. He usually initiates (you did once). But you got a suspicion.

You step closer. Reach out slow and careful to crook your finger over the top of his trousers, since he tucks his shirt in and all. Then you pull, slow and steady, leave him plenty of time and distance to stop you or pull away.

But his pupils dilate again, and he steps into you. Lets you drag him flush against your front.

“Astarion,” you say. The man actually licks his lips. “Did you get horny and decide to be an asshole to everybody about it?”

A hint of a smile tugs his lips before he buries that under scorn. “Of course not.”

But you’re learning his tells. The way his gaze hovers over your face, darts down to the titty window and the hint of cleavage like a hummingbird. Also the less than subtle grind against you as he says it.

“Were you being a dick to get us alone?” you say.

A pause, this time. His voice wobbles a touch when he says, “No.”

You lean in. Catch the way his face tilts to meet you.

“I think you’re lying,” you say against his lips. “I think you want me alone, and I think you went all bratty so I’d feel ornery about it.”

His inhale stutters. A minute shiver runs through him. “And what would you do if you were, ahem, ‘ornery?’”

It’s mind boggling how much things’ve changed in the months since y’all met. Since the disastrous first days of…this. That you can be here now, with him, talking like this? It’s a minor miracle.

He’s so fully pressed into you you can feel his cock twitch even through the cotton trousers.

“Did you do all this so I’d fuck you?” you say. You cannot keep the smile off your face or outta your voice.

He finally cracks. Closes his eyes and runs his lips over yours. Drawls, “Maybe.”

“Is it the strap?” you say. He’d picked it out and purchased it in the city, and then the nice sex shop man showed you how to put it on and, well, implied how to use it. And clean it (that part was very explicit, detailed instructions.)

The tip of his tongue swipes your upper lip. His hands ghost up your sides.

“Would you?” he says.

He takes charge in the sheets. But he bought that dildo to use on him, and he seemed to enjoy it when you did (he whimpered as you fucked him).

You’re learning what you like in terms of dirty talk (it’s surprisingly graphic). He’s an excellent teacher. So you gird your loins, ignore the heat all the way down your neck, and open your mouth. “You want me to spread you wide on my cock and fuck you all better?”

He sucks in a gasp. “Gods, darling, yes.”

Then his lips crash into yours and you’re both stumbling towards y’all’s shared tent.

The rest on AO3 for very, very rated E reasons.

[meanbossart]

Spicy Asks: The Sequel is here. I'm so, so sorry.

Oh he's a very passive guy, he likes being manhandled around and not having to do much of the work (a bit of a pillow princess one might say). As far as fetishes go, he does have fantasies about group sex and of being roughed up, but I think if put in a situation where he could practice it in a controlled environment he'd be like "EHHHH nevermind actually" and go home very quickly LOL

DU drow would have 100% banged Lae'zel if he hadn't killed her. He couldn't stand her personality but they would have gotten on like two peas in a pod in the sack.

He does find Shadowheart very pretty, but they struck up a friendship so quickly that I don't think he could see her in that way 🤷 but that's still a smash, technically speaking.

Jaheira. Ohhhh Jaheira. As far as general dynamics go she would have been the best choice after Astarion, probably - though there is no way in hell or high heavens that she would have ever let him touch her LOL regardless, DU drow finds her looks and personality to be very attractive.

He's pretty much utterly indifferent to anyone else. Wyll is too idealistic, Gale is Gale, Karlach isn't his type, Halsin gets on his nerves - oh, he WOULD have banged Mizora if he hadn't been heads over heels for Astarion by that point.

The man just likes his femmes I guess LOL

HMMMMMMM yes, but since it's not really a porn fic expect any scenes like that to be in line with what we've had so far, where there's more of a focus on developing character dynamics rather than gratuitousness (I hope I've gotten that across, at least LOL).

LOL, It's ok, it's a ridiculous not-name and I'm so sorry for all the people I have made confused and will continue to confuse because of it.

As for your question, definitely not! I personally like big-bottom/smaller-top scenarios so that's why I focus on it, and I do think character-wise those are the roles they fall into most naturally - but they switch around every so often when the mood strikes and it isn't really a big deal.

Oh are you kidding me? The guy LOVES being cared after in an intimate setting. Being doted on, groomed, checked up on, having his hair played with and clothes fixed up - he doesn't express it outwardly much, but these are all things that make his murderous little heart skip a beat. He was the same way pre-tadpole but it was mostly servants and Sceleritas doing it, so he didn't get much out of the exchange; and Orin didn't entertain this at all, or, if she ever did, it was very, very, very rarely and really just a crumb of intimate affection that he most likely misread anyways.

I'm not sure what to say to this one LOL the penis is full of blood already man I don't think a vampire needs to make it any more tempting to themselves to chomp down.

I wrote a thing about that not too long ago :D ! The answer is complicated but, mostly yes.

Alright you joke, but, if you don't think DU drow hasn't spent a little too long lingering over Astarion's feet and ankles then I got amazing news for you.

I touched on what they generally like on the previous edition of Wine Fuelled Spicy Asks, but as for what they like to do as a couple, it's probably a lot of body worship and some playful denial on both ends. Du drow thinks Astarion is the most elegant and limber thing he's ever seen (and he loves how he smells), and Astarion thinks DU drow's body is an expertly put together murder machine. They have a great time being mutually enamored with each other's (and their own) appearances.

I think they also venture into some blood-play and vapid threats of violence in the future, as a treat, but takes a while for them to trust themselves and each other enough to indulge in that kind of thing.

Needs a little direction, plus you gotta learn to enjoy a bit of teeth and a very slobbery time - also I think he distracts easily, It's nice to have a man who's willing to venture the whole perimeter with his mouth but sometimes you do just want him to stay on the prick. But generally speaking - yes, DU drow gives good head. Fun head, even!

What do you people want from me? Do you want schematics? Diagrams? Do you want me to compare their holes to famous people holes? Do you want me to take out my measuring tape and give you numbers, tell you which kind of produce each of them can fit in there???

One is pink, the other one is brown. One of them just looks normal and the other looks and feels a little like it been around the block a few times. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW.

[caspercryptid]

Fellow disabled here.

What are your thoughts on Wylls horns or other parts of the transformation being painful, either acute from being new, or chronic as the days go on? Perhaps Gale or Karlach have some words of wisdom? Gale with the chronic pain of the orb, Karlach with a broken horn (is that painful too?) and an engine burning her up from the inside. Love to hear some fluff of folks quietly showing up for Wyll. ❤️

Hey sorry this took me a minute! I'm going to hit this one for Day 1 of @thekindredcollective's Wyll month, {Perception}

Sorry no karlach i don't know her too well yet, I'll have to write her another time.

-----

Wyll’s neck hurts.

It shouldn’t be the most important thing about all of this. It shouldn’t matter at all. There are so many more serious concerns with the way he looks, the way he feels, what’s been done to him. But they’re easy to rationalize and accept. The way he’s seen is, after all, out of his hands. There’s so little he can do about any of this. He’s yielding. He’s always, his entire life, done as he felt he had to. There was little choice in the matter. Offered the chance to do it all over, he wouldn’t do a single thing differently. There is no choice. He’s surrendered to the tide, knelt to it, sworn his fealty to his own soul and his own moral code.

But still. His neck hurts. 

He can’t sleep.

That’s the worst of it, he thinks, laying back on his pillow and looking up at the sky above them. During the day the ache is easy. He has others, and more immediate problems, and when he’s run through and Shadowheart heals him all the pain fades and he almost forgets that the way that ache collects at the top of his spine is the weight of his own head and not another injury from a lifetime of collecting them. 

He has other aches and pains. He’s young, he knows, objectively. The others are older than he is. When he was really young and reckless he used to jump off the banister of the stairs, impatient to get to the ground, never able to wait to get...wherever it was he was going. Always somewhere, in those days. Maybe now, too, always rushing to some new adventure. But sometimes when he was young he would be caught by the waist- his father, or a nanny, always someone bright-eyed and laughing and warning him one day his knees and ankles wouldn’t bear his weight the same way. I wish I was young like you. 

He understands now. Still young, but his body bears the weight of the distance he’s traveled. Aching knees, sore shoulders, tendons stretched and stretched and not feeling quite as flexible as they’d been when he was younger and vaulting over tables. But those aches wandered and stayed dull, were easy enough to ease with rest or getting off his feet, not kneeling quite so much. This ache sat. Squatted on his shoulders like he was carrying the physical stone weight of the devil on his shoulder. Which, well. He supposed he was. 

It was hard not to think about it when he had nothing else to think about. The night was almost totally silent, only him and his pain and the faint hooting of an owl and— footsteps.

He tries to twist his head, bumps a horn into the ground and winces as pain flares through his neck again, bright and hot enough that he has to close his eyes against it. He holds still, just trying to breathe and will it away, when there’s a hand against the bare skin of his neck, cool with something spread over the fingers, a little slick and a little resistant, spreading on his neck with the calm precision of jam under a knife. He opens his eyes again, holding still, confused, only to see....Gale.

He hadn’t expected Gale. The way the pain starts to ebb under a faint warming sensation, shadowheart seemed a more likely guess. But It’s gale, in his camp clothes and holding a jar, calm and rubbing a salve into his neck. Wyll tries to voice a question, but Gale looks embarrassed and answers before he can ask it.

“I apologize,” he says, quietly, “You’ve been rubbing at your neck and I could tell you weren’t asleep. That must hurt.”

“...It did,” Wyll admits, only a bit reluctant. As much as he hates to be a bother, embarrassing Gale wouldn’t be polite. And it’s helping- it’s not so much immediately soothing the pain as spreading an odd hot-and-cold sensation across his skin that seems to loosen up the muscles. 

“I... think you may need to change your posture,” Gale says, recovering a bit. “In the long term, perhaps. Karlach holds herself differently than you do, and I think on the whole tieflings balance...differently. To accommodate the weight. I believe it would be easier for you to adjust if you hadn’t been trained with a blade, a bit ironically, because you’re so careful about your posture that I rather suspect that you’ve overwritten your natural inclination to stand in a way that makes up for any weight. Of course there’s probably very few cases where this has happened to draw from, it would be an interesting area of research, there have to be other people who’ve perhaps sprouted wings. Perhaps Halsin holds himself differently when he transforms. Not that you’re an animal, of course, that may be an unflattering comparison—”

Wyll can’t help but laugh a little. “I’m not offended,” he assures him. “It’s alright. You’ve probably got the right idea about Karlach. And Halsin is trained as well, he might be conscious about adjusting his posture. Perhaps he’d know a thing or two.” He pauses, weighing the question for a second, and then says— “Am I that obvious?”

“Oh, no,” Gale says, “I only noticed because I—” His hand settles over his chest, and as he does it Wyll realizes that it’s not the first time he’s seen Gale make that gesture. He’d thought it a kind of quirk of self-aggrandizing: pressing your hand to your chest does add the sort of dramatic flair that Gale tended to favor in his speech. 

“—it hurts, doesn’t it?” Wyll asks. “The— thing. In your chest.”

“—terribly,” Gale admits, tone a little flat. He doesn’t quite ever sound properly downcast, always animated in some way or other. It’s odd to hear him drop some of the...gusto. From his speech. He clears his throat, as though catching himself, even without Wyll pointing it out, forcing himself to speak with a little more pep again.

“It’s not so bad. Everyone has been very kind about sharing their magic items with me.”

“Does it...stop hurting?” Wyll asks, “When you’re fed.”

“Well, no,” Gale admits, “but it’s not quite so.... Pressing. Easier to ignore.”

Wyll realizes, a little distantly, that it’s quite late. And Gale is awake too.

“—Hey,” he says. “I think I had a spare—” “No,” Gale says, waving him off, “I appreciate the thought, but it’s not... ah, the last time I went too long before feeding it. It’s sated now, but the feeling sort of...climbed up my throat. And now if I lie down my throat aches. It’ll pass, I expect, but I’m just...taking watch.”

“I see,” Wyll says, slowly. “I wonder if Shadowheart has any herbs that—” “It’s really no trouble—” “You helped me,” Wyll counters, pressing himself up, slow and careful, minding the weight. “It’s not too bad.”

“Neither was my neck.”

Gale sighs, sensing his defeat.

“—Alright. But I don’t want to wake her—” “We don’t have to,” Wyll says, “She’s one of Shar’s, she’ll probably be awake. Come on. Help me up?”

As Gale offers a hand, Wyll reflects. It was nice, not being alone. Perhaps he could remind Gale of that too. 

[letters-from-dekarios]

fighting fate

summary: you had some choice words for your friend who set you up on a not-so-blind date. but, because it went well, you decide to meet with him again. it’s not long before the spark reignites like when you first met, and you can’t help but fall for him.

or: you go on a second date with gale

word count: 5.5k

tags: *this is a sequel to ‘a blind date with a wizard’, you do not have to read it before this one :)* gale x implied f!reader/afab!reader, astarion and shart are terrible wingmen, elf!reader, fluff, some small angst, mildly medium burn, alcohol usage, wyll is also there and also your ex, omg karlach is also there

author’s note: this is my little disclaimer that i personally love wyll! i’m just using him as a plot point since there’s not many other main chara options that haven’t been mentioned already (that i would use in his place). its for the plot guys i swear i’m a wyll lover too

Okay, maybe you couldn’t be mad at Astarion and Shadowheart. Yes, they betrayed your trust by setting you up on a faux blind date with their wizard friend who already knew your entire life story. And yes, they did not take accountability for their lies and instead kept asking if you enjoyed yourself. But, their little plan worked, and you were scheduling a second date with the man they set you up with.

“I am still pissed at you both. Especially you, Astarion,” You glared at your friend as he flipped through outfits in your closet. Shadowheart was busy doing your makeup, turning your face back towards her.

“Look, you can’t stay angry forever. You needed someone to get your mind off of Wyll. I just did what I do best,” he replied, holding up one rather… skimpy outfit that you turned your nose up at.

“Lying? You could’ve at least told me a little about him so I didn’t feel so mortified! You told him all about Wyll and when I tried to vaguely mention that I had a bad breakup, he already knew all about it!” You huffed, and Shadowheart grabbed your chin to steady your face. She gave you a cautionary look as she got underway applying your eyeliner, her hand steady and precise. She had cast duplicity to do both sides at the same time, which made the process much easier.

“Sweetheart, if you knew half the things about him you’d refuse to meet with him. I kept you in the dark so you can see for yourself who he is,” Astarion held up another outfit, one a bit more casual but still would be pretty on you. You nodded in approval and Shadowheart nearly had an aneurysm.

“If you don’t stop moving your damn head I’m going to let you leave here looking like a sibriex,” Shadowheart warned you again, and you took heed of her notice this time.

With your makeup done and your outfit fresh, all you had to do was wait for Gale to arrive. The two of you had been back and forth for weeks now, mostly updating each other on current things you were up to. A few days prior, with your schedules finally open, he had sent word of when he’d like to take you out and you responded as soon as you could. Now, you waited for the date to commence.

“You can at least thank us for our assistance in getting you out of the house. Had I not convinced you to go on that blind date, you’d still be crying over Ravengard’s oldest disappointment,” Astarion remarked, and you snorted at the insult of a name.

You sighed after, messing with the ends of your hair. “You can’t blame me for being annoyed. You wouldn’t like it if I set you up with someone and told them you were a vampire before you could,” you raised an eyebrow at him knowingly. He couldn’t deny that you were correct on that front, but he wasn’t about to say that to you.

“Just be grateful he didn’t tell Gale about your little misadventures as a—“ Shadowheart began, and you quickly clamped your hand over her mouth, shushing her.

“Don’t mention that! It’ll bring bad luck to my date tonight,” you frowned, and both of your companions busted out in laughter.

You continued chatting until a soft knock sounded on the door, and you screamed internally. After getting up from the couch, you made your way to the door. You took a breath, eased your mind, and then opened it up for him.

“Hey,” you beamed at him, trying to contain your excitement. He bowed in acknowledgement and pulled out a small bouquet from behind his back.

“Good evening, my lady,” he smiled at you, extending the flowers in greeting.

You felt your face become hot while a small giggle left you. You took them from him and briefly smelled the assortment. “They’re lovely, thank you,” you replied, inviting him inside for a beat so you could set the flowers down.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite wizard of Waterdeep!” Astarion swung his legs over his chair, standing and heading towards him. He slumped his arm over Gale’s shoulders, patting his back. “Isn’t he just amazing, Y/N? Such a gentleman— is that bluestars I smell?” Astarion whacked him on the back once more, stepping around to you as he observed the flowers. Bluestars was a rather expensive perfume in Faerùn, costing over two hundred gold pieces for just a small bottle. You had never smelled it before, but you were sure you would later.

“Leave him be, Astarion,” you gave him a look, voice low to avoid Gale hearing you.

“Ah, I pay no mind to Astarion anyway,” Gale watched you as you placed the flowers neatly in a vase and filled it with water. “If I did, I sincerely doubt I’d be here at the moment,” he chuckled, and you beamed at the reply.

“You’re such a pain, Gale. You know that?” Astarion whined, before slipping back over to the couch.

“I’m sure he’s plenty aware,” Shadowheart called over her shoulder, focused on a book she had brought out.

“Thank you, Shadowheart, for your helpful insight on the matter,” Gale retorted, raising a hand to you once you were done with the bouquet. “Shall we?”

You took his hand, your face flushing again as he led you out the door. “We shall,” you answered, smiling sweetly at him.

“Bring her home before one!” Astarion called out as you both left.

“Oh, that may be difficult!” Gale retorted, allowing you to close the door behind you both as you departed.

“What, you plan on stealing me away for the whole evening?” You raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously, laughing as you interlocked your arms and he began to walk with you.

“Perhaps.. if you’d let me,” he nudged you gently, before leading you off to a small restaurant in the heart of the city.

“Hmm… it’ll depend on how this night goes,” you flirted, patting his arm tenderly. Soon enough, you were being seated inside the little restaurant, and looking over the menu. Everything looked… expensive. You didn't want to hurt the man’s coin pouch, assuming he was paying for it, but there weren't exactly any reasonable options, either.

“What are you getting?” You questioned, and he pointed to some mildly pricey menu item. That was your hint at expenses, and you picked a dish that sounded promising but wasn’t going to put you in debt if you ended up paying for yourself.

The date was filled with idle conversation, the two of you discussing parts of your home life here and there, commenting happily on the food you ate, and just sharing the good parts of yourselves. It was going great, extraordinary even.

Until he showed up.

Wyll Ravengard. You didn't even feel the eyes burning into the back of your head until you heard someone pleading with him to stop, attempting to keep him back. You flicked your attention over to the commotion, eyes going wide as you saw him. You wished you hadn’t made eye contact, that you’d minded your business, but you hadn’t. And now you had to deal with it.

You wanted to shrink down into yourself. Disappear into nothing- hide under the table like a small child. With the way things ended, how could you face him? He was a gentleman for your whole relationship— until he wasn’t. You couldn’t stand to see the face that spoke to you in such a way that night. No matter what influence he was under, what he did that night you broke up… you couldn’t forgive him.

You recalled the many nights after that fight, how depressed you had become. He tried several times to get your attention and apologize to you, but you were so wrapped up in yourself that it was hard to pay attention to anything. Some nights he was kindly about it, others he was swearing like a damned sailor who couldn't take no for an answer. You weren't sure who he had become, and no matter how hard he tried he was unable to reverse the past.

“Y/N!” He shouted your name, and you put your head in your hands. Maybe if you didn't see him, he would disappear.

“Wyll, please, not here-“ his friend Karlach, you recognized her as, tried to hold him back. But with his thrashing and flailing, he managed to worm his way free of her grasp.

“Impero te!” Gale moved to his feet quickly, and Wyll froze in place. You recognized the words as a command spell. It appeared Gale chose that over a holding spell, perhaps so he could speak with Wyll first. You knew it would wear off soon, so you placed your coin on the table and got up.

“Don’t you dare leave, Y/N!” Wyll exclaimed, and Gale turned to check up on you.

“I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling faintly as you grabbed your things. “I’m just going to go outside for a minute.”

He nodded and waited for you to leave before his attention was on Wyll again.

You weren’t sure what happened after that, but only a little while later and both men were being tossed out by two guards you’d seen in the restaurant earlier. Gale’s face was down, his hand held up to his nose, and in the candle-lit street, you could faintly make out blood on his knuckles.

“You bastard!” Wyll ran to, presumably, take another swing, but Karlach grabbed him in time before he could.

“Gale-“ you rushed to his side, now that Karlach had a tight hold on Wyll, and checked him for any other injuries.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” he soothed, despite the blood dripping down his face. You reached into the small bag you had brought and took out a cloth, gently wiping at his face.

“Does this jackass speak for you now, Y/N?” You heard Wyll snarl, followed by Karlach’s aggressive warnings for him to calm down.

“Mates, I’m really sorry for his behavior. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Can I pay you back for the dinner?” Karlach surrendered, nodding down to a small coin pouch at her hip.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to pay for his stupidity,” you answered, moving Gale to sit down on a nearby bench. “Tilt your head back..” you instructed, a delicate motherly tone to your voice, and he did so, holding the cloth tight against his nose.

As you spun to face Wyll, you saw he was bloodied just the same. You had to hand it to Gale, he was more than just a gentleman. You sighed, composed yourself, and put on your bravest ‘what the fuck are you doing’ face.

“What do you want, Wyll?” You coldly asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You know what I want,” he huffed, still struggling in Karlach’s grasp.

“Actually, as a matter of fact, I don’t! It might surprise you, but I haven’t known what you wanted from me since the night we broke up. What could you possibly need from me after everything that transpired?” Your eyebrows furrowed together, irate with him. Thinking about that night hurt your mind and your heart, you’d much rather continue with your date like nothing happened. But, of course, the universe was always against you.

“Y/N-“ Wyll calmed slightly, his likely drunken stupor fading as he regained his senses seeing you like this. For a moment, he looked like how you remembered him. For a moment, he was yours again.

That quickly dissipated as he continued to speak, reaching towards you, begging, “I want you- I miss you. I should’ve never let this go, I should’ve never let that bastard get his hands on you. You’re mine, right? Like we used to say?”

You took a step back at his words, feeling sick to your stomach. After all this time, he still had that false hope he could get you back? That you still belonged to him? And what was worse, he called Gale a bastard. Again.

“I’ll have you know that bastard back there, is twice the man you ever were. I suggest you rethink your ownership because, to my knowledge, I belong to myself. I was finally- finally!- feeling free from your grasp and here you go, trying to steal my peace from me.” you clasped your hands together, groaning out in frustration before running a hand down your face. “I was done with you a long time ago, Wyll. Please, for the love of all of Faerún, let. Me. Go. Drop this faux apology and the pathetic act and move on with your life. That was embarrassing!” You sighed, running a hand down your face. The arguing in public was only adding to your humiliation, though many passersby just assumed you all were drunk.

“Y/N-“

“No, Wyll!” You cut him off, waving a hand dramatically to silence him. “I was so happy to be finally moving on from you and rebuilding myself after you left me in pieces and you had to come here and ruin it! You had to smash me to bits all over again! I just want to be happy, and you can’t even let me have that?” You could feel tears welling in your eyes, but you pushed them down like all your other worries. “Please, go home. Go away. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you anymore, I want to go home. Without you.” It seemed that those final words got to him, and he realized his defeat.

As much as you had loved him in the past, he was no longer who you loved now. It was beyond you to change him to become the man he used to be, and you cried for the day he would find the love he would become that for. You wished he could do that for you but you knew it wasn’t right. It wasn’t even worth it anymore. Besides, you had to get Gale home and cleaned up anyway. What good would worrying about Wyll do for you?

“You’re sure you don’t want any coin, mate? I feel awful about all of this,” Karlach offered again, and you waved her off.

“Get him home safe, that’s all I ask,” you replied, and they were off. You watched as Wyll’s sad, defeated eyes stayed locked with yours until they were far enough away, and your heart broke all over again.

Gale knew when not to meddle in things that didn’t concern him, so he left that talking up to you. It was not his place to speak to Wyll for you, but his charming act of heroism in punching the shit out of Wyll was plenty for you.

You took another breath, unclenched the fists you had unknowingly created, and returned to Gale’s side.

“How are you doing?” You asked him, kneeling in front of him as he laughed softly.

“As good as a man with a broken nose can be. You don’t happen to have any healing potions on you, do you?” He replied, smiling at you.

“Not here, but I have some at home,” You offered, and he shook his head no to that.

“I’d rather not return to Astarion’s commentary on my little.. quandary here,”

You pondered for a moment, and then a metaphorical lightbulb appeared over your head. “Vis medicatrix,” you chanted, placing your hand on his arm to heal the wound. Blue light emitted from your palms and eyes for a moment and then faded. Why you hadn’t thought of that prior, you had no idea.

“There. How do you feel now?” You repeated, and Gale lowered the cloth from his nose. He breathed in and out a few times, and then nodded in satisfaction.

“You’re quite good at that,” he chuckled, trying to wipe off as much blood from his face as he could. His knuckles were covered in Wyll’s blood, you noted, and you were oddly surprised Gale didn’t have more marks on him from whatever took place inside.

“What even-“

“Perhaps later.”

You pursed your lips in understanding, standing straight as you waited for him. Where would you head off to now? He looked a mess, and you could hardly stand to be around everyone who had just witnessed what occurred. What would people say? They undoubtedly recognized Ravengard’s son, so what would the rumors tell about you? Those were worries for a later time.

“There’s a travel sigil nearby if you’d like to head to my home in Waterdeep with me,” Gale offered, and you interlocked your arms again when he stood up.

“I’d like that,” you agreed, letting him guide you home.

After a bit of walking and some magical travel, you were inside Gale’s rather lavish tower in Waterdedl. The walls were practically lined from floor to ceiling with books, showing his studious nature. The smell of thousand-year-old tomes and scrolls filled your lungs, mixed with the neverending hint of brandy and vanilla. He took good care of his belongings, despite his continued apologies over what he considered a mess. Though, the only clutter you saw was that of a well-studied scholar. It was impressive just how many books he had, and you wondered if he really had read all of them.

“I believe I have a bottle of Ithbank somewhere around here, let me get myself cleaned up first,” Gale offered, and you had half the nerve to speak up.

“Let me help you,” you proposed, and he smiled at you. That cheeky, knowing smile, akin to one Astarion would give you when you’d talk of something scandalous he was already doing. He nodded his head in the direction of his washroom and you followed along behind him, allowing him to sit on a small stool as you wet a rag.

“Well, go on,” you urged, tilting his face up by the chin as you stood between his legs. Gently, you began washing the blood off of his face. “What happened?”

“After you stepped outside, Wyll began saying some rather choice words,” Gale recounted, the night's events playing over in his mind, eyes ever trained on you. “He wouldn’t cooperate with leaving. He took the first swing, I assure you. It’s not like me to throw first, or even second. I usually counteract with magic but, albeit adrenaline was forefront in my mind, a more physical response felt qualified.”

You chuckled at him, shaking your head as you took his hands and cleaned them off, too. “I’m not a damsel in distress, you know. I just didn’t want to deal with him.” You informed him, wanting to make perfectly clear your reason for aversion.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. But I like to play the white knight now and then, if you’d indulge me,” he grinned, turning his hand in yours and taking it gently. He kissed the top of your palm in thanks for your help.

You giggled at him, splashing his face gently with water, to which he gasped, reached over towards the sink, and splashed you back. You both burst into laughter as you started a miniature water fight, flicking water droplets at one another. You, though, wouldn’t give up this nonsensical fight so easily, and splashed a small cup in his face. His expression turned sour and you darted out of the washroom, Gale quick on your tail, and began dashing around bookshelves to avoid him. The initial droplets soon became minor castings of ‘create water’, both of you careful not to damage the papers surrounding you.

“This honestly seems unfair!” He called over to you as you shimmied behind a small space between two bookshelves. Abruptly, he went quiet and you began to peek around some books to see where he was.

He didn’t even say a word as he wrung out his cloth over your head, your hair becoming completely wet.

“Gale!” You screeched, turning around to his shit-eating grin. You whipped out your cloth while grabbing his collar, suddenly pulled his shirt slightly off his body, and wrung out all the remaining water from yours down his chest. Then, you flattened his shirt against his chest, allowing it to become soaked in its own right.

He jumped slightly at the coolness and glared down at you, albeit playfully. He quickly pulled you against him by the waist, effectively getting your clothes damp, too.

“You know, this is one of my favorite shirts. It’s not supposed to get wet like this so the fibers don’t fray,” Gale hummed, staring down at you with a suggestive look in his eye.

“Oh? How ever will I repay you for ruining it?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him with faux innocence.

He thought about it for a moment, pondered just a beat too long, and tugged you close against his hips. He leaned down towards you, letting his nose brush against your own.

“A simple apology should suffice,” he smiled softly, looking down into your eyes.

“Well,” you lowered your voice, your eyes flicked from his to his lips, and back up again. “I’m so sorry, Mister Dekarios..” your hands made their way to his chest, and you planted them flat against him. “I should dry this off for you too, shouldn’t I?” You pouted, pulling out the wide, cutesy eyes for him.

He took in a breath, placing one hand on top of yours while the other rested on your lower back. “While I love that offer..” he started, brushing his lips against yours, “Let’s take things slow, yes?” He asked, and your breath hitched. Good gods. You couldn’t believe how goddamn gorgeous he was up close. You wanted nothing more than to spend the whole night with him, whatever that would entail.

“Y/N-“

“Yes.” He didn’t even need to ask, but he started to anyway. Almost instantly, his lips were against your own, the hand on your back gently pulling you closer to him as if there was any distance keeping you apart. Your eyes fluttered closed, indulging yourself entirely the moment.

You replied instantly to him, grabbing at his shirt as you leaned up towards him. One of your hands released the fabric and slid up his shoulder, then into his hair, tugging gently.

He hummed happily in response to the pull, grabbing tighter at your waist. After another beat, he drew back and rubbed his nose against yours.

“Gale…” Your eyes slowly opened again, ever so slightly still shut, looking up at him with an unknown kind of intensity and love.

“I know…” he whispered, pressing a small kiss to your lips again, before he trailed down your neck with them, his hands solid against your back and keeping you steady.

You let out a soft, satisfied little groan, running your hands through his hair. He pulled back again after another brief indulgement of his thoughts and looked down at you. He was so perfect, you almost felt bad for making him deal with you and all your imperfections.

“Can I stay the night with you?” You asked, and then panicked as you realized he might get the wrong idea. “Not- like- we don’t have to do anything! I just… want to be here… with you…” your voice went quieter by the minute, and he chuckled at your shyness in asking.

Tilting your head up by the chin, he calmed your nerves. “Of course, you can,” he leaned down to you, pressing another small kiss to your lips.

He slowly pulled away from you, his hands ghosting on your waist before he stepped back, coaching you to follow him with his all-knowing smirk, bringing you to his kitchen. As you followed, he pulled out the aforementioned bottle of Ithbank and two glasses. You hopped up onto one of the counters, watching him pour into each.

“So, I have to know,” he began, handing you the wine, “if you’d be willing to share,” he took a sip from his glass, stepping between your legs this time, “what exactly happened with Wyll? Because that kind of a reaction from someone doesn’t suggest that the breakup was just messy, it suggests that it was, well, horrid to say the least.”

You took the wine glass from him, wrapped your legs around his waist, and sighed loudly. “I’d like to know about you and your ex first,” you replied, taking a sip slowly, “I don’t know much about you and right now the scales are quite imbalanced,” you finished, setting your glass down beside you. You leaned forward, draping your arms over his shoulders, and began to mess with his hair.

“Ah, Mystra…” he chuckled, though it wasn’t as enthusiastic as it usually was. He pursed his lips together, frowned slightly, and then began to speak.

“As you may know, Mystra is the Goddess of Magic, the Mother of the Weave, if you will. And I, myself, am a rather proclaimed wizard,” he started, bringing your arms down from his shoulders as he stepped back. He began to manipulate the weave around you both, a soft purple light shimmering and sparkling between and around you. “From a young age, I was using the Weave. I had much of it mastered by the time I was just ten years old. One of Mystra’s former chosen, Elminster, took it upon himself to train me in her absence, as she was not alive at that point.”

You saw the face of a man, conjured by Gale, who you could only assume was the Elminster he spoke of.

“When Mystra came back, she had lost a part of herself in her former death. Thus, she was weak. But, she could still sense my fascination and usage of the Weave. Soon enough, she began appearing to me. Only briefly, mind you, she was still far too injured to show herself entirely, but she still did.” This time, you saw the face of a rather beautiful woman, whom he alluded to as Mystra. How had he given up a Goddess? Well, you’d find out.

“At that time, she picked me to become one of her Chosen. Recognizing my skill for harnessing the Weave, and understanding my desire and devotion to her, it was an obvious choice. She started mentoring me, showing me parts of the Weave I had not yet discovered,” he continued, using visualizations of the encounters to help guide the storyline. “Eventually, we became friends. And then, even closer than that. Lovers. I desired to become great for her- intertwine our souls together, prove just how much I loved her. Remind you, she was dead for a long time,” he paused, making sure you were following him.

“When she came back, she had to regain the parts of the Weave that she had lost. I, knowing this, happened across a tome that told of a portion of the Weave that Mystra had not yet been reacquainted with. Lost to time, the elements, and Mystra’s long respite, this part of the Weave had gone uncollected by her and was still separate. It was imbued with Netherese magic from the folly of one of her chosen from many centuries prior, that in of itself is a story for another time. I sought to retrieve it and return it to her as an act of love- or, perhaps, egotism. I shall never know the true intent of my heart in those days, but, rest assured, I am no longer the same,” he smiled warily at you, hoping he was not losing you in everything. Both in the storybook tale he was telling, and romantically.

“The act of mine failed, rather horrendously so. What mortal man takes a piece of the weave for himself? A selfish one, indeed. Cursed with this portion, it was bestowed upon me. There are many details that I’m leaving for the sake of not boring you, but in a gist that is what happened. And now, this Netherese magic rests within me, seeking out parts of the weave to regain what it too had previously lost. Without magical artifacts, death very well could be the consequence. So, safe to say, I am no longer on my Goddess’ good side,” he paused, debating on what else to say. “It’s an arcane hunger, that’s what my Tressym, Tara, and I have figured out. I must consume those artifacts regularly to ease the hunger and calm the orb, otherwise I’ll… well, let’s just say it won’t exactly be very pretty.” He laughed slightly again, that sad, disheartened chuckle, and you felt terrible for him.

Mystra had essentially cursed the man she claimed to love, and you found that unfair. Why wouldn’t she just reabsorb the magic? Why put him under duress when all he wanted to do was prove his devotion? You would never say it aloud, but you despised the Gods and their unusual cruelty at times.

“I… don’t know what to say. That’s awful, Gale.” You realized that the details he had provided to you on your initial date were rather vague. Now that he explained it in more depth, your situation with Wyll felt minuscule in comparison. What’s a lover's quarrel in the shadow of a devoted, lovesick chosen being cursed with a gift he intended for his Goddess?

“Do not pity me, Y/N. It’s the consequence of a foolish man seeking more than he could attain. Had I not been blinded by my insatiable need to grow stronger and unlock arcane secrets that were not mine to know, I would not be here. Mystra had told me to be content, and I just couldn’t listen. But had I, I would not be with you. If going back in time meant that I would lose out on what I have now, I would suffer it all over a thousand times more,” he smiled at you, the magic fading as he returned and stood in front of you again.

“You’d suffer through losing your Goddess’ favor for me?” You asked, and he nodded. The look in his eye… was one of complete seriousness. While soft, you could see the determination behind his gaze. He did not intend to fault you like he faulted his Goddess. He wanted to savor this, savor you. You weren’t sure whether to be scared, or honored. What else was he willing to risk for you?

“I’d disown even the angriest of Gods if it resulted in our union being inseparable,” he placed his hand under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I have only known you for a short period of my life, and yet I’d live a thousand more years with you if I could.”

You felt your eyes water, the sentiment touching your heart. You looked towards the ground, before throwing your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, and he pulled you close against him.

“Thank you, for everything,” you told him, burying your face into his chest. He held you just like that for a moment, allowing his head to rest on top of yours. When you finally pulled away, looking up at him with the sweetest doe eyes, he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss you again.

“You’re adorable,” he laughed softly, kissing you again and again. Your giggles broke the kisses and you whacked him gently on the chest to get him to stop.

“Are you alright? I know that was quite a lot to take in,” he asked, and you admired his sensitivity to your headspace.

“I’m alright. I’m still stuck on the fact you eat magical items, though,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Alright, alright. Enough about me. It’s your turn,” he wrapped the conversation back around to you and Wyll, and it pained you for a second to think about it.

And then you looked at him, enjoying his glass of wine with you, and you couldn’t help but feel connected enough to talk about it.

Until you heard the birds chirping happily outside, the two of you labored over the blow-up with Wyll. It was a weight off your shoulders, bantering with him about all the shitty things that happened that night. Like two drunken schoolgirls talking shit about a mutual ex-friend, you both couldn’t help it.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, just that you were comfortable, warm, and safe. Safe within the tight hold of Gale’s arms, under the silk sheets that lined his bed.

You had this inkling feeling that all was right in the world. The universe, for once, was back on your side. Back on his side. It was like mending a pot with the age-old art of kintsugi- melding two broken pieces together with gold-dusted glue. Was it perfect? By no means. But it was together. It was whole.

You were whole again.

At least, until you got abducted by Mindflayers.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Been thinking on the afterlives of the party:

I mean Shadowheart is faithful, so Gates of the Moon or Palace of Night (unless Shar is feeling stupid and short-sighted again and wants to lessen her own power by abandoning a powerful faithful soul).

Halsin is faithful and an elf, most likely to go to Arvandor but could get claimed by Silvanus.

Mystra is willing to claim Gale, if he's still mortal, so it's up to him.

Karlach's been praying to gods such as Lathander and Selune as she approaches death, and the gods do take deathbed conversions from compatible mortals, so she could potentially end up with Shadowheart. Cleric characters can also pray with her, so she could go with a Tav.

Wyll's so incredibly lapsed/areligious that you wouldn't call him faithful, but he acts in accordance with the teachings of the Triad, so I'm pretty sure that gives them a potential 'in' if he takes it.

Lae'zel is faithless (Vlaakith is not a god). She can easily dodge that by just not dying on Toril though.

Minthara: false false false false

Astarion is not only faithless but pointedly so. As an elf he theoretically has a foot in the door to Arvandor, but considering his relationship with the Seldarine is probably terrible...

Durge is either Bhaal's faithful or false, and as a Bhaalspawn should go to Gehenna regardless, though Jergal apparently has called dibs and they could seek another faith if we ignore that second bit. There are lots of gods you can pray to in this game. Most of them evil! Shar, Loviatar, Bane... most of them are Bhaal's co-workers, so you can sort of end up in the afterlife where your estranged and pissy dad usually lives and works.

Anyone who undergoes ceremorphosis might have 'property of Ilsensine' stamped on them...?

The Wall of the Faithless has been struck from SCAG errata, apparently, so I guess anybody who doesn't have a place in the afterlife (statistically; Minthara, likely Astarion, maybe Durge and Wyll) is going to be getting a job in one of the most boring cities on the planes, False or Faithless. At least there are occasional invasions from the Abyss, weird politicking with devils, and Jergal sometimes secretly sends souls out into the planes as undead on missions, so it could get interesting sometimes...

(All of this assuming that Jergal doesn't flat out claim any or all of them and fudge the reports the way he casually omits usage of undead from them when he hands them in to Kelemvor. Still comes out to the same result though.)

(There is the question of whether the personality is going to stay intact once they're dead, and what position you get; Myrkul's petitioners sometimes got to be 'princes' of sections of the City, while others were just faceless, identity-less wraiths wandering aimlessly. Cyric turned his into weird monsters who also didn't really remember who they were... The gods get to decide whether you keep your personality or not.)

Speaking of; Myrkul's domain is presumably still within the City of Judgement, so Ketheric is probably there! Dunno about your Tavs or Durge but mine is going to have a beautiful reunion if the idiot ever dies and ends up on the Fugue and Ketheric still has his memories and personality. Eternal punishment: spending eternity continuing the hell that was having this brat/this annoying old fuck as a co-worker.

More fun: maybe Myrkul still has an avatar there! That's not going to be awkward At All. Repeatable boss battles!

[redlittlefoxari]

To The Ends Of Faêrun: Chapter Fifteen: Shadow Purge

This series is book two of a fanfic I have already written called Astarion Epilogue: An Adventure in Making Life

Master List Here for Books One, and Two

*List includes a prequel that is essentially one-shots of their adventures over the fifty years after the battle at the end of the game*

Warnings: Blood, Sex, Violence, NSFW 18+, Smut

Summary: After a week's journey, the party finally makes it to the Last Light Settlement to meet Halsin.

A trip that would typically take more than a week took only five days on horseback. Tav recalled when they had made the trip from Moonrise to Baldur’s Gate over fifty years ago, and how they nearly collapsed from exhaustion, racing to beat the armies of the Absolute. This trip was definitely more pleasant than that it was, as the roads were empty primarily due to the cold weather, and thus, they were left undisturbed the whole trip, which had Tav sending up thanks to whomever was watching over them. 

She had been on edge with Apple, keeping to the back of the line with Gale in the middle and Shadowheart leading the charge. Tav watched for any signs of danger and constantly had to tell Apple to keep her head down or, at the very least, put up a protection spell. Astarion sat behind her on the horse they shared, and Tav received more kisses on the back of her head and gentle rubs against her armor than she could count over the last five days. He, however, was just as tense as Tav was. Late at night, the two would sit up, holding each other until Apple fell asleep, and then they would take shifts watching for any sign of danger. 

Gale taught Apple almost every night for two hours so that she wouldn’t fall behind when she finally returned to her classes. Giving Tav and Astarion the opportunity to hunt for something to eat. It was primarily for Astarion to eat, but no one complained when they returned with rabbits or other animals that filled their bellies. They still kept where the blood came from away from Apple, who just thought it came from the bag of holding that Tav carried at her side. 

After five days of being on constant high alert and watching Apple on rotating shifts, Tav and Astarion were thrilled when they caught sight of Moonrise Towers. What was once a dark and desolate place had turned into something that resembled the glory it once held before Shar and Ketheric had destroyed it. Now, there was the sound of children playing in the streets, people laughing, and so much color everywhere they looked. 

“Gods, it doesn’t even look like the same place.” Astarion looked around in awe. 

“It looks like the shadow curse never touched this place at all.” Shadowheart dismounted from her horse. “If we didn’t know what happened here, I would be hard-pressed to believe it.” 

“Truly, we did the right thing.” Gale misty stepped off the back of his horse. 

“If we didn’t, I’m not sure we would have ever found Astarion’s ring.” Tav grabbed his hand and squeezed. 

“So it all worked out in the end to benefit me.” Astarion flashed a smile to no one in particular. “Can’t say I’m unhappy with how it all turned out.” He leaned down to whisper in Tav’s ear. “It led to the best thing that's ever happened to me.” 

“What would that be?” Tav leaned into him, turning her head slightly to get a better look at him.

“Our wonderful family.” He kissed her ear, and she smiled at his comment. 

Apple stayed in the cart, not daring to leave until Tav or Astarion told her it was all right. “And you all, including Auntie Karlach and Uncle Wyll, broke the curse?” Apple looked at Tav and Astarion. 

“Yup!” Tav jumped down from her horse. “And Grandpa Halsin… speaking of which…” She looked around for the big wood elf. “Where do you think he is right now?”

“I’m sure he’s off somewhere pretending he’s a real bear.” Astarion motioned for Apple to get out of the cart. “He did always prefer that form over having to wear clothes.”

They all looked around in wonder at the change only just over fifty years had done. Where there was once death and darkness, there wasnow light and happy people going about their day. Halsin hadn’t been boasting when he had talked about turning Moonrise Towers into housing for others and that the settlement looked utterly different from what the party would remember. Even when Tav and Astarion had come through the settlement in search of the ring that allowed him to walk in the sun, it was nothing compared to what it looked like now. 

“I like clothes just fine, Astarion.” 

A large booming voice came from behind the group, and as they all turned, knowing exactly who it was: Halsin came into view. The now over four-hundred-year-old elf looked much the same since the last time he paid Baldur’s Gate a visit. A little more tired around the eyes, but still full of strength and wisdom from years of hardship and leadership. He stood wrapped in furs and carrying a bundle of firewood tied together with some rope, allowing it to stay together for more accessible transport. 

Over the last six years, Hasin had come to visit them in Baldur’s Gate many times, bringing Apple gifts that he had hand-made or found along the way. She had so many wooden ducks, cats, owlbears, and other animals that it was hard to keep track of them. Halsin had become the grandfather that Apple lacked since Astarion didn’t know where or if his parents were even still alive and had no intention of finding out, and Tav only had her mother. Though if her father were alive, she wouldn’t let him near Apple. Tav would have killed him on the spot if he had even tried if Astarion hadn’t gotten to him first. Luckily, they didn’t have to answer that question as Tav’s mother had killed him a long time ago. So no,w Halsin had taken up the role with great pleasure and was the perfect fit for Apple. 

“Grampa Halsin!” Apple broke from the group and barreled towards him, arms stretched wide to wrap him in a bear hug. 

“My little Apple!” Halsin dropped the wood and knelt down. She collided with him, and he took her into his arms, standing and spinning her around in a circle. “How have you been, my sweet little cub?”

“Good!” She giggled. “Well, I got into trouble, but we are fixing it.” 

“I know a little about the trouble.” Halsin looked at Tav and Astarion. “Let us get inside. We have set aside some rooms in the inn for you all.” He nodded towards a young man. “Grason will ensure your horses are housed and fed for the night.” He moved Apple so that she sat on his shoulder.

A thin teenager appeared and started gathering up the reins. “I’ll be sure they are taken care of, and no one messes with them.” He bowed and walked away. 

“Thank you!” Tav called to him. 

“He is a good boy, and I have told him that he is to take care of the horses before he gets to join in on the festivities this evening.” Halsin signaled to follow him. 

“Festivities? Are you throwing a party?” Tav looked around and just now noticed the decorations being strewn about. ”I hope you’re not throwing a party on our account.” 

Halsin laughed. “No, but your arrival did match up perfectly.” He turned slightly to speak. “With everything going on, I’m not surprised that you don’t know what day it is.” 

“Are you going to tell us, or do we get to guess?” Astarion had a small bite to his words. 

Tav looked around to see strings willed with dried cranberries and citrus fruits. Cinnamon, pinecone, and evergreen wreaths hung from every door and post that was physically possible. Large vats of mulled wine, hot apple cider, and food of every kind littered tables as they passed. In the almost two weeks that had passed and with everything that had happened, Tav had forgotten what celebration was coming up. 

“Midwinter?” Tav said as she looked at Astarion. 

“Correct. I’m not surprised Tav figured it out just by looking around.” Halsin smiled at Tav and then returned to where he was going. 

Grasping for Astarion’s hand, Tav laced his fingers with hers as the rest of the party made small talk for the remainder of the walk to the inn. On the way, Tav looked around in wonder at just how much everything had changed and the life that had been breathed into everything around them. The thought that they had done this was something that filled her with wonder and pride that they had done good. 

After a ten-minute walk, they made it to the Last Light. What was once a broken-down beacon of hope was now completely restored. The outside stone looked like it had been polished and cleaned, but spots still had moss staggered, which Tav could only guess was because of Halsin. As they crested, the stoop of the inside front door looked like a lodge. Gone were the holes in the floor and the smell of decay. Now it looked new with the smell of pine and citrus, no doubt from someone making spiced cider for the party later tonight. 

“Gods…” Gale's breath hitched as he took in the sight. “It doesn’t even look like the same place.”

“It’s not.” Shadowheart touched the wall. “They have gone and made it anew.”

“You have the room right there to your right.” Halsin pointed towards the large room that had once been used as the infirmary. “We have put some walls up so that it is a little more private.” He walked towards the door and opened it. It led into a hallway with multiple rooms tucked away. “I’ll let you get settled before we talk about the matter at hand.” 

“Thank you, Halsin.” Tav gave him a large smile as he put Apple down. 

“It’s nothing after what you did for this place.” Halsin gestured for Tav to go. “I’ll be waiting at the table when you are ready.” He pointed to a set of tables and chairs by the fire.

Tav walked down the hall and looked in every room to see what was available. Several rooms had single beds, while only one in the back housed a bed large enough for two people. She looked to Astarion, a question in her eyes. Are we taking shifts? He gave her a slight nod before placing his bow down in the corner and leaving the room. Tav longed to feel him against her skin at night and missed snuggling up to him as she fell asleep. They just feared that they needed the added protection just in case something happened. There were several times on their adventures both while fighting the Absolute, and on the adventures afterwards that they had been woken up by a stranger leering over them in their sleep. Tav chuckled as she remembered that, one of those times, it had been Astarion.

Everyone picked their spots and quickly made their way out to Halsin, who had a small gaggle of children around him, begging for him to come and play with them. Tav could feel Apple vibrating with energy beside her. Her eyes filled with the desire to go and ask to play with the children. It had been almost two weeks since Apple had seen any of her friends, and Tav could tell that she missed them terribly. Tav looked to Astarion, another question in her eyes, and as he looked from her to Apple, he melted a bit and mouthed the word okay.

Tav smiled at him. “Apple.” 

Apple turned towards her. “Yeah, Mamma?” 

“Why don’t you ask them if you can play with them while we talk to Halsin.” Tav patted her head. 

“Really!?” Apple’s eyes lit up with excitement. 

Tav felt a pang of worry. “Just stay where we can see you.” 

Apple ran off toward the other children and expressed her interest in wanting to play with them. It’s not as if Tav didn’t want Apple to make new friends. She was just worried about introducing Apple to strangers that she did not know. Astarion and Tav needed to meet the parents back home before letting her go to their houses. The same went for if Apple wanted to have friends over to the house. Tav let out a long sigh of resignation, knowing that she needed to loosen her leash on her child. Otherwise, the next few weeks would be torture for everyone. 

As Apple ran off with the other children, going to play in the square right outside the Last Light Inn, Halsin motioned for everyone to sit. “They really are good children.” He gave Tav and Astarion the largest smile he could muster. “I would be more worried about what she would do to them.”

“We’ve just never taken her this far out of the city before, and traveling with her on the road...” Astarion paused. “You know all too well what can happen.”

“I do, but there is nothing to worry about here.” Halsin leaned forward in his chair. “I keep everyone in line for the most part.”

“The most part?” Tav could feel fear rising in her chest. 

“Again, nothing to worry about.” Halsin leaned back. “Mostly teenagers who have a rebellious streak in them, and again, I’m sure Apple can put them in their place.” He looked to Gale. “She attends your school. Do you not teach them how to defend themselves?” 

“It is true Apple knows a few offensive spells, like Fire Bolt, Magic Missile, and Thunderclap, but she knows far more defensive spells as she is only six.” Gale stroked his beard. “She is extremely bright for her age, but that often doesn’t equate to common sense.” 

“Which is how we got into this situation in the first place,” Tav cut in as her fear was replaced with pride as she heard all the spells her daughter knew. “We need to ask you a few questions about the local forest and if anything strange has happened.”

“Ask away!” Halsin seemed delighted to be asked anything about nature. “You should start from the beginning so that I am in the loop.” 

“Of course.” Tav nodded. 

Over the next thirty minutes, Tav explained everything that had happened. The goddess, the quest, what they knew about Mielikki, anything and everything that could help them locate her. They didn’t know much about Mielikki, the goddess of the forest, only that she didn’t like to stay in one place for too long. She had her favorite spots, to be sure, but they needed to know if any of those locations had been acting strange. It would do them no good to just wander around with no clear direction to random forests that would eat away at too much time. This time, they did know how long they genuinely had. 

“That is quite the tale.” Halsin fell into silence as he absorbed all that he was given. 

“It is…” Tav took a deep breath and looked over to check on Apple, who had summoned dancing lights for her new friends. “We need to find Mielikki and return her to Angharradh before something horrible happens.” Tav turned back towards Halsin and the others. “I will not let Angharradh take Apple.” Tav straightened her spine. “It will happen over my cold, dead body.” 

“If we could avoid making Apple an orphan, that would be nice,” Astarion cut in. “Because I would be right next to Tav, fighting tooth and nail.” His eyes dilated. “I’ll rip out Angharradh’s throat myself.” 

“That might be a little harder than you think.” Halsin gave a sad smile. “She is queen of all the elves and is the reason for our very being. If the lore is to be believed, if she is slain, so is all of elvenkind.” 

“That could just be something she made up so no one would try.” Astarion waved his comment off.

“If it is true, then tell us if you know anything about where we can find Mielikki?” Tav Looked into Halsin’s eyes. “Any dying forests? Sightings?” 

Halsin thought for a few moments before replying. “A couple of high elves came through here the other day with their son, telling a tale about how Evereska forest was dying.” His face changed into something serious. “That the great trees that many homes and buildings were built into have dried up and started dying, and that even the surrounding forests have started to do the same.” 

Evereska was a major city where elves and other fair folk came to mine and produce great healing potions from its waters. It was one of the only places where elves and dwarfs got along due to it being a refuge. If it was dying despite thriving for centuries, it was highly suspicious. It was a place favored by many gods, particularly Mielikki, due to the harmony the locals shared with the wildlife, who chose to live with the trees instead of cutting them down. Building many of their homes in the giant blue-leaved trees that covered the city. 

“Alright then, I say we head there first thing in the morning.” Tav gave Halsin a smile. “Thank you, Halsin.” 

“Don’t thank me just yet.” He stood, his tall frame towering over everyone at the table. “I wish to join you.” 

“I don’t know if that is a good idea…” Tav thought about the poor horses. “We don’t have a horse large enough to carry you.”

“You are large enough that you could carry one of them,” Astarion put in. 

“I am only a little over four hundred years old!” Halsin bellowed. “In my bear form, I can keep pace with any horse in walk or a trot.” 

Tav considered what he was saying. He and Shadowheart were middle-aged by all rights. Elves typically lived for around seven to eight hundred years. Him being just over four hundred placed him in the same position as Shadowheart, and Tav was letting her come along. Her only argument was his size, and he had already thought of a way around that. With breaks to eat and rest along the way, he wouldn’t slow the party down due to his size or age. 

“I have no more excuses for why you couldn’t come.” Tav shrugged. “Plus, it would be nice having another elf. Astarion and I have been taking shifts watching at night.” She looked to Astarion. “Maybe we can actually get to sleep next to each other again.” She gave him a small smile. 

“The two of you have been sleeping separately the whole time you have been on the road?” Halsin looked appalled. 

“Well, we can’t really ask the old wizard and Shadowheart to watch the gods know they need all the sleep they can get.” Astarion gave the two in question a long look.

“You know words can hurt, correct?” Gale placed a hand over his heart. “And you have no room to talk; you’re older than Shadowheart and I combined.”

“I’m also an eternally young vampire, sooo.” Astarion drew out the last word and tilted his head as he gave Gale a cocky smile. 

An argument ensued between Gale and Astarion about respecting your elders and who demanded more respect. Tav just sat back and watched the two throw insults back and forth, trying to laugh at the absurdity of it all. As she felt eyes on her and not on the men bickering before her, Tav turned to see Halsin assessing her with the eyes of someone with wisdom well beyond her years. She gave him a small, nervous smile, and motioned towards the epic word battle, rolling her eyes to emphasize just how ridiculous they were. Halsin, however, still didn’t move his eyes from her, and instead looked as if he had made a choice. Tav had no clue what that was, as he didn’t share it with her before speaking again. 

“So it is decided!” Halsin sounded cheerful as he switched gears. 

Gale and Astarion stopped their bickering at the sound of his voice. 

“And what’s that?” Astarion asked. 

“Tomorrow, we set off to Evereska, but tonight!” Halsin paused for dramatic effect. “Tonight, we celebrate.” 

Tag list:

@ofmyth-andmagicart @lunaredgrave @littlekidsteve @omnia--mea-mecum-porto porto @ayselluna @myreadingmanga123 @kismet-of-the-divine @nicalysm @justlilpeaches21 @five-salty-bitters @lenarosic88 @caydevakarian @supervrgnsokay-blog @ravenswritingroom @kalypsoox @foxiecelery @wisteriaofthegraves

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

ANGST WARNING: How would Ace!Tav react to Astarion dying and being unable to revive him? Or vice versa -- how would Astarion react?

A/N: There is actually a lot to this, so here is a headcanon in three parts. Apologies for the length.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Passively Suicidal Thoughts, Major Character Death, Heavy Angst

Astarion x Ace!Tav Masterlist

How Ace!Tav Would React to Astarion Dying and Unable to be Revived

In order for this to happen, it would be sudden and unexpected

There would be no preparing for his death

They always thought Astarion would outlive them, he's an immortal vampire, but, more importantly, he's a survivor, always has been

I'm thinking he'd have to be burned up in the sun or something else like it; revivify and raise dead both require a body and the sun would turn him into ash

Maybe he gets caught by surprise, maybe Tav can’t get to him in time or maybe he pushed them out of the way of a blast; the result is the same

No final words, no last touches, there’s nothing left, not even a body

Tav wouldn’t be able to move, the rest of the world going fuzzy at the edges and silent

It would take another party to get them to move, literally dragging them away from the scene like dead weight

It’s takes them several moments to come to their senses, to fight back because he can’t just be gone

There has to be something left, something they could use to bring him back

If it’s an ally with them then they’d hold them back telling them they need to get somewhere safe

They would be in full denial, trying desperately to think of something, anything, this can’t be how it ends

But there’s nothing, not a single thing they can do

Once that realization dawns, they just go numb

They spent so much of their life just surviving; they don’t want to go back to that, not when they finally had a taste of what it was to live

They’re just so tired, maybe it would be easier to just…sleep

Even the thought of revenge is too daunting, what would be the point? Astarion would still be gone. Can’t they just rest?

It would take their friends to pull them out of it

I imagine Lae’zel and Shadowheart specifically would lay into them about just giving up. What would Astarion say if he saw them like this?

Tag can well imagine, they can all but hear his voice in their ear

“And you call me dramatic,” he tells them. “Flattering as it is to know you miss me, there's still work to be done. Now get up.”

They want to ignore the words, but they have their own survival instincts to contend with

It’s a slow process

The first several months it’s an ordeal just to eat, but they do

Gale, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, they all take turns checking in, making sure they’re okay

Gale maybe even has them come to stay in Waterdeep just to keep a better eye on them and keep them away from the memories associated with Baldur’s Gate

It’s a kind gesture and one that slowly starts to pay off

They're able to watch a sunrise again without the urge to weep

They sometimes come in to talk during Gale's lectures, recounting some of their exploits with a smile

They never fully recover, their music isn’t quite as lively, there seems to be a spark missing behind their eyes, but they find a way to survive

They have their friends and find solace in knowing they’re not alone

Eventually they go on the road again, taking in every sight and sound, imaging Astarion seeing it with them

They never fall in love again, they knew that they never would and don’t try to force it

Still, they live; it’s brutal work, but they can’t stop now

How Astarion Would React to Ace!Tav Dying and Unable to be Revived (Dying of Old Age Edition)

Couple different options with this one

I picture Ace!Tav as human, so Astarion outliving them was part of the deal when they got together

All the same Ace!Tav dying of old age vs. dying suddenly and horribly, are going to spark two very different reactions

If they die of old age, Astarion has a much longer time to prepare

There's no hiding getting old, even if Astarion makes jokes about them being with a man four or three times their age

Tav is there to help him through it, even as they're lying on their death bed with him beside them the entire time

They don't want him to try and bring them back; they told him as much

They want him to keep going, to keep living, to find love again after they're gone

Astarion doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to think about them being gone even when they both know it's coming

One human life time wasn't nearly enough, he wants more, he always wants more

But the end does come and when Tav finally slips away, all he can do is weep

He wouldn't be alone though, he has friends, strange as it might have once been to admit

Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel would all find their own way to help him as they too grieve the loss of their friend

He's not the easiest to deal with, he lashes out, he argues, he pushes, he finds himself crying at unexpected moments and mortified at himself for doing so

He wishes he could talk to Tav about all these emotions drowning him and ends up curled up on the floor all over again

But somebody is there to help him back up again

He can’t stay in their home anymore, too many memories bombard him every waking moment

Gale offers for him to come to Waterdeep for a time, but Astarion refuses

He needs to get out, go somewhere far away, someplace he’s never been before

So, one day, he packs a bag and just starts walking

The only thing of Tav’s he takes is a that damned violin, they did try so very hard to teach him how to play, but he always was a better audience

Still he can’t bring himself to leave it behind

He doesn’t know where he’s going or what he’s even doing, but he keeps going anyway

One of the nights, months into his travels, a bard plays at the inn where he's staying

He recognizes the melody, one of Tav's compositions

He had finally convinced Tav to write down some of their music, and even publish a few; this one isn't one of them

The bard plays it differently, emphasizing different words and finding a new meaning while still keeping the integrity of the song

He can all but hear Tav’s contemplative approval as they grin in that “I told you so” sort of way

The best ones live in memory after all

The bard is good, reminding him of Tav in so many different ways

He's not sure what exactly possess him to do it, but he offers them the violin, telling them that it's been a long time since he saw somebody play it properly, maybe they'd like a go

Gods do they play it,

Light and music flow from the instrument, evoking the same vivid display Tav had show him all those years ago

Astarion then leaves without a word, leaving the violin behind for the bard to take

He finally understands what Tav tried to explain to him, how much of themselves they put into their music and how even as the interpretations may change it’s still them

So, he keeps going, keeping their memory alive in what ways he can, mostly as an anonymous patron to promising young bards; he’s always been a better audience anyway

Years later he even meets that first bard, the one he gifted the violin; they turned to be a great performer and was thankful to finally track down the man who put them on that path

They form a true friendship, one that lasts years and allows Astarion to know he can form new relationships

Slowly, Tav's death doesn’t hurt the way it used to

They’ll never fully leave his heart; they were his first in so many ways

It would take him years, possibly even centuries to finally fulfill that final promise to love again, but he does

He’s a survivor by nature, but Gods does it feel good to live

How Astarion Would React to Ace!Tav Dying and Unable to be Revived (Dying Suddenly and Horribly Edition)

This can only end in blood

They're in a middle of a battle, something bigger and worse than they anticipated

Both are skilled in their own way, but they each know their strength lies in stealth and surprise, neither of which they have facing this threat

Astarion was sure they were safe, he was watching their back and vice versa as they had for years

He doesn't see exactly what happens, all he knows is one moment his love was standing in front of him and the next, they're pulp on the floor

Air leaves his lungs, the rest of the world fades as all that exist is their blood in his nose and their desecrated body and then everything goes red

He uses everything at his disposal, knives, nails, teeth; more blood fills the air, his body is covered in it to the point he can't even grip his daggers and just uses his teeth

He doesn't stop until the only thing breathing in the room is him

He then goes to Tav's body, and wraps what's left of it in any cloth he can find; he's not leaving them here, there has to be a way to fix it, to bring them back

He finds a place he can keep them, using what magic he can to preserve the remains of their body until he can find a better solution

He reaches out to any contact he has begging for help, surely their friends would come to their aid

What he gets is all but useless, no answers, no solutions, nothing but empty apologies and condolences

They even have the audacity to them him to let Tav go

They don't understand, they never could

After everything he'd been through, Tav was the first real happiness he found; 200 years of torture and just six months with them was enough to counterweight all that misery

He'd had years since then, and now they were just gone

How could anyone expect him to let that go, not when he had expected a life time with them

Their time together was already limited, he would not be cheated into giving up more; the world didn't get to do that to him

He curses his so called friends, burying himself in necromancy and tomes trying to find a solution

There may still be a way, a much darker way, one that would require sacrifice, but it would be worth it whatever the price

He knew that about himself the moment he started to fall for Tav, there was no telling what things he'd be willing to do, all for them

There is a part of him that hesitates, a little voice inside his head telling him to stop, that he can be better

It's the same voice that told him not to ascend, one he curses just as deeply as the rest of them

If he had ascended none of this would have happened; he would have been able to keep Tav safe, he could have made it so not even time could touch them

He had hesitated then, but he won't now

He'll find a way to bring them back and make sure they never leave him again

[feathered-serpents]

Fuck it. Here’s some “Karlach gets her heart back and lives” headcanons!

Once the world is saved and everything, the first thing she does is travel. Yes to see everything but, more than that, to feel everything. Avernus always has the same air, you don’t know how heavy air is until you’ve spent a decade buried in the heat and smoke and bits of brimestone that floats around Avernus. Karlach wants to feel crisp winds off of mountains, sunny skies over beaches, and rain, gods, anywhere there’s rain.

She’s on that quest for a long time, years maybe, but eventually, it stops feeling like traveling and starts to feel more like wandering. Aimless wandering at that. Slowly, she starts to realize that yes, she got her own life back, but she has no idea what that life is.

The first thing she does when that feeling really starts to settle in is seek out Wyll. For a time she's his right hand. Helping him defend the innocent both in Faerun and in Avernus, something that she is great at. Everyone loves her. People love her. She's a hero, she makes people happy. But still...

It might take ten years, maybe longer, after she helped save the world that she finally admits... she's tired of fighting. That feels insane. It's all she's ever done! All she's ever been good at but, swinging a blade just doesn't feel like it did when she was young. She hates that. What does she do now?

And the person who comes to her rescue, one more time, is Dammon.

Not on purpose, in fact, he's only supposed to come and visit. But he notices her burning less bright (in a bad way) since he last saw her and asks what's going on. She finally tells him after a little bit of prodding. She wants to try a new life, a completely new life, but a life that still feels like her. What does that even mean when all she's known is... this?

Dammon tells her he's been looking to take on an apprentice.

It sounds insane at first but... as she starts to think about it, it could make sense. Her, a blacksmith! Not just that, but an infernal mechanic. After a bit of time under Dammon's wing combined with her personal experience and very high heat tolerance, she becomes the best infernal mechanic in Faerun (granted, there's two)

She sets up her own shop in Baldur's Gate. Wyll sends any runaways from any archdevil army he helps smuggle out of Avernus to her first. She helps make sure any infernal parts they may have are behaving as they should in the new atmosphere, and if they're one of the lucky few that don't have an engine to worry about, then she just offers them a roof to stay under during their first bout of freedom. It can mean so much, a safe roof to sleep under.

And now one more, romance-exclusive, very self-indulgent point

When Karlach sets up her shop and she and Tav have settled in Baldur's Gate, they always seem to have a few street kids in their house. Pick-pockets. Breadthieves. Kids like that. A lot of them are tieflings born to non-infernal parents, half-elves dumped to the streets before they could walk, or just unlucky, but Karlach and Tav give them somewhere to go. They'll be safe. They'll have something to eat, and somewhere to sleep. If they get bored, they help Karlach in her forge. Maybe some consider it "dangerous work" for kids but kids are smarter than people give them credit for. Something to do with their hands is good for them and keeps them out of trouble. And a few forge burns are nothing compared to how badly the world can hurt them

But they'll always be safe here, even if they don't stay, they can come back. The world might be beautiful, but you can suffer here just as badly as you can in Avernus. Karlach built the one place you won't. The one place you're safe. The sanctuary she wanted, and needed, she built it. She built it.

[salemcantupdate]

So this is my updated shipping and favorites perspective, given my prior one I no longer agree with.

First things first, I believe in big polycule ship, everyone is together and dating. (Sobs in that’s not the case).

But! My favorite ships that isn’t just massive polycule (preface I am a multishipper):

Gale and Astarion, aka, Bloodweave. Listen, it’s all big now, we all know about it. Opposites but the same, walking the same path, they can make each other so much worse or so much better. Hubris vs self preservation, both essentially having the possibility to become a god. Both have been beaten down and belittled by beings far more powerful than them, one knowing the abuse and the other not. Also the manipulative hatefuck to love would be incredible.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart, aka Silverheart. Classic enemies to rivals to lovers. Both have been mislead and brainwashed by evil female goddesses that demanded total obedience, that both people completely dedicated themselves to until they realized everything they knew was a lie. Whats more romantic than fighting and getting bloody and then fighting over who tops?

Wyll and Karlach, (I don’t know their ship name, may I suggest Devilbound?) is one that I’m still kinda iffy about honestly. I’m not sure if I can see them as explicitly dating, but I can see them being best buddies who fuck sometimes. I can see them making a deal like “If neither of us are married in a decade let’s just marry each other.” Like they aren’t actively in love or awed by each other but there is deep respect and they would fight and die for each other. And I also headcanon that if you romance Karlach and then go to Avernus with her, Wyll HAS to join and it’s gone be a weird little polycule thing I don’t CARE.

So, another thing. I really really like a threesome of Karlach, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart. The Ladies. But like, Lae’zel and Shadowheart both immediately love Karlach. Lae’zel being like “You WILL respect her” and Shadowheart like “She could carry me to safety.” Are they not blatantly simping??? Like I think they would hatefuck and then stare at Karlach and be like “We need her too.” Two scary women and then the golden retriever girlfriend.

Wyll and Astarion isn’t one that really calls to me, though I get the appeal. Monster and monster hunter, Wyll being the hero that Astarion always dreamed of saving him so long ago. So on and so forth. I just prefer a Redeemed Durge playing that role for Astarion?? But I definitely get the appeal.

Wyll and Gale, I haven’t seen anything for. I don’t know if anyone ships them. But listen, these two would try and one up each other in wowing and wooing the other, Gale with the weave and Wyll with the stories of old. Imagine Wyll trying to get old and out-of-shape Gale to dance in his physical body. They are both 100% into worshipping their partner, so them worshipping each other would just be so cute to me.

Now, this one really surprised me. But I really like Karlach and Astarion??? Like, cause, OK. If you romance Astarion as Karlach, you can’t actually have sex with him in his first romance scene cause it’ll burn him. This causes Astarion to panic, immediately forced him out of his comfort zone, and also ensures a route in which you never have to have sex with Astarion??? Which I know I wish I could do in a normal route! So lowkey adore those two. Also, they’re literally black cat and golden retriever??? Someone who literally went through Hell and lost all bodily autonomy for so long but still laughs and smiles and has so much hope compared to someone who was beaten to hopelessness. It’s cute! But I also ship this in specifically the asexual way. They kiss and cuddle and bump heads and are adorable, but I can’t really see them having sex. That’s just me though haha.

Durge and Gortash obviously fucked and were so in love with each other in such a horrible twisted way. If Gortash ordered it, Durge would stay their hand. Durge prayed for forgiveness, begged for it, promised, swore, vowed that he would still kill everyone, kill all. But he was in love, he was obsessed, and Gortash may have been able to pull Durge from Bhaal’s grasp, only for Gortash himself to fall to the depths of depravity. I need more fucked up fics for these, with all the gore dirt and blood. I want it to be like the movie Hellraiser.

Durge and Astarion is by far my favorite for “canon” routes. It’s just, Astarion doesn’t feel like he’s a damsel in distress being saved, he doesn’t want that. He wants to be your equal, he wants to help you, and as Durge you are able to save each other from the hunger, from the urge, from the “monster”, from the Father. Both were created to be a tool, to be used, for a singular purpose to serve. And both break free, and then have the choice. Shall they become what they were made to be? What they are destined to be? Or take a shit on destiny and be truly happy?

Now for bear-daddy Halsin. He’s more difficult, as his story isn’t fully explored in the plot of the game and he was mostly added as a proper companion because he was so popular. Which I’m extremely happy about cause I fucking love him. But! Due to this, it’s hard for me to ship him with anyone. I’ve seen some people argue for Kagha or Rath, but I personally disagree. I do like Astarion and him, or a poly with him, Astarion, and Redeemed Durge. Fighting the “beast within” and all that, Halsin in the more metaphorical sense. BUT, let me offer something up as an idea, a concept if you will. Gale and Halsin. NOW, now, let me explain. This isn’t JUST them being my two favorite romance options and me being sad I can’t be with them both. But! Both were young men suddenly thrust upon with a massive amount of responsibility and faith put in them; Halsin becoming a commander and archdruid as an apprentice during the war against Ketheric, Gale with being chosen by Mystra, taught by her, and then becoming her romantic partner. A literal goddess. And I’m one of the people who headcanon that their interactions started when Gale was a teenager. Gale both believes he is the best and deserves to die, Halsin has never once believed in his ability to lead. Also Halsin explicitly notes he will miss the library at the grove, and GUESS WHAT GALE HAS? A library. But like, imagine Gale making a magic teleportation circle thing that goes from his tower to the middle of the forest with a little cabin that Halsin lives in and they can easily travel and visit each other and fbskfhwkfjw. Also, both of them having weird sex scenes (that I absolutely adore). Gale with astral projection and Halsin with bear. I bet Gale is one of the few companions who’d be like “Oh you’re a bear? Chill, not the weirdest sexual experience I’ve had.” Halsin would also smile and nod along and sip tea and Gale goes on his long long rant and then— gah it could be so cute. Cottagecore meets academia. I’m gonna call their ship name CottageAcademia. I will take criticism on that name. I’m dumb.

Speaking of, if I failed to mention, Halsin and Gale are my absolute favorite romance options. Gale makes me giddy every single play through and I break my heart every time I have to say no to him for a different romance (like Astarion). He’s just… I find him so charming and cute and I love him and I GAJDHAKSHQK.

Anyways, npc involved ships. (Also I can’t say anything about Minthara cause I literally don’t know her, never played evil route)

Karlach and Dammon is cute, but, eh? I don’t get much from it personally. I think Karlach and Alfira would be cuter.

A fucked up ship that I like is Astarion and Raphael. It… yes, I know, it’s terrible, it’s abusive. But it’s juicy, it’s delicious, the best of the poisoned apples. There’s a fic on AO3 that’s just fantastic even though it’s only got two chapters so far, it’s called Palmarosa by thespectaclesofthor

… The Emperor and Gale. LISTEEENNN, it’s just, Gale is the only one ok with mindflayer Tav. And like, Emperor is smart. It’d be funny. Come on.

Another fun fucked up ship that I haven’t seen much of, Minthara and Orin the Red. It’s bad, it’s terrible, it’s so fucked up, but I like it.

Barcus and Wulbren, no, I don’t think it’s healthy. But Barcus clearly loves Wulbren so damned much and I just want the poor stupid gnome to be happy godsdammit all.

Apikusis and Kagha. So, I don’t know if anyone else has spoken to the Druid Apikusis, but she is one of the few druids who is desperately against the rite. And when I spoke to her after, she said she saw the old Kagha in the woman, was desperate that what she saw was true. What if they were girlfriends? Then Kagha fell to the shadow druids, and now that they’re back they can fall back into love? I just see so much possibility in them!

Olly and Rugan got down and dirty after barely surviving the gnolls and I’ll put money on that.

Omeluum and Blurg, they just seem like science husbands. They’re married and I refuse to take criticism on this.

That’s all I can really think of, but for characters I’m just absolutely obsessed with: He Who Was and Abdirak are my favorite npc’s. Gale and Halsin are my favorite companions.

Now, my personal opinion on class/race Tav/Durge romance for each character.

Shadowheart: Selune Cleric for obvious reasons, race I don’t think super matters. But I do like Durge, connect on amnesia. Just figure out how cleric and a Durge works haha.

Lae’zel: Githyanki who defected from the gith and has been living peacefully in hiding until recently (so a class that gives peaceful options) Tav

Astarion: Redeemed Durge, any race any class. I’m personally doing a Drow Spore Druid. But a paladin or cleric could also be super cute.

Gale: Wild Sorcerer / Bard, and I personally prefer gnome? But any race is still fine. Also Tav or Durge work fine to me, he’s gonna be a big simp. Though, I do personally like the idea of you becoming the mindflayer in this route. He would use magic to disguise you and it’d be cute

Wyll: Tiefling Bard… I know it’s the first that’s so specific but come on. He becomes a devil, he loves stories of old, y’all dance together. I think it’s cute. I also prefer Tav here, I just can’t see a circumstance where he looks past the murder of Alfira to romance a Durge.

Karlach: Honestly she’s the one I’m least sure over, other than I like being smaller for her. I also like the idea of a paladin / bard for her?

Halsin: Literally anyone and anything as long as you’re down to fuck a bear.

These are all just my own opinion, added it cause I know sometimes I wanna see what other people think is the best “romance route” for a character.

But that’s the closing! These perspectives might change again, but for now this is my thoughts on everything shipping and romance related (that isn’t explicitly canon).

[sm0lprism]

Bite-Sized (6) - A BG3 G/t fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on ao3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Summary: A quiet walk in the woods suddenly takes a very dangerous turn for Ria and the last person she expects comes to her rescue.

Pairing: Astarion x borrower!oc (Tav) (slow-burn, Astarion is a complete ass but eventually comes round in future chapters)

Warnings: V*re mention, gore, fearplay, blood, swearing/course language, dehumanisation, blood drinking/Astarion doing vampire things TM, Astarion still being an ass. Word count: 3.9k

Every bone in Ria’s tiny body screamed in pain, her little boots kicking up pieces of foliage and broken twigs that were scattered across the forest floor as she trudged forward. Today’s training session with Lae’zel had been a somewhat brutal one and her body was certainly feeling it. They had begun training very early in the morning as Lae’zel was going out with Gale, Karlach, and Shadowheart to explore the Blighted Village and deal with a spider situation that Ria wanted no part of. Wyll had offered to stay behind and tend to the camp, along with Astarion, but Ria had no interest in being in the same area as the vampire spawn when nearly everyone was absent from the camp. She had mentioned to Wyll that she was only going for a short walk, and the Blade of Frontiers had been very persistent in allowing him to accompany her, but she had declined his offer. Being around large people constantly was proving to be very exhausting, and while Wyll meant well, she needed some time alone.  

Heaving a rather exhausted sigh, she carried on walking through the undergrowth of the wilderness, bearing in mind to keep to the shadows of the various plants and trees that loomed over her. Over the past couple of weeks, she had felt herself grow slightly relaxed now that she could let her guard down a little since she was in the safety of the camp. Despite how terrifying it was being constantly surrounded by giants; it did mean she didn’t have to worry about being eaten by animals as they wouldn’t come near the camp. Being with large people certainly had its perks and she was slowly growing to trust her giant companions.

Except for Astarion.

Her skin bristled at the mere thought of the vampire. He hadn’t even bothered to properly apologise to her after he tried to eat her two weeks ago, and she certainly didn’t count his half-assed attempt at an apology from the past week. She couldn’t understand why he held such resentment towards her, it wasn’t like she had done anything to the man except swear at him. Perhaps he had a disdain towards people of her stature in general – she had overheard him making unpleasant comments in regards to gnomes as well, so it wasn’t just borrowers that he disliked. Either way, she couldn’t care less about him – as soon as she found a suitable home to call her own, she was leaving. A borrower had no place in the world of large people anyway. 

Ria continued to meander through the forest, pausing to rest against a nearby tree. She smoothed back her auburn hair and began finger combing through the tangles. It didn’t take long for her hair to get rather messy with it being just above shoulder length, especially after the intense training session she just had with Lae’zel. She slumped against the tree and sat down, her small chest rising and falling as she allowed herself to relax for a moment. The past couple of weeks had been hectic to say the least and it felt good for her to have a small moment to herself.

Her respite was short-lived as small tremors suddenly rattled the soil beneath her feet and it immediately jolted Ria to her senses. Eyes wide with panic, she frantically glanced around, looking for the source of the earthquakes.

“Oi, Slorm, do you smell that over there?”

All the remaining colour on Ria’s face drained as a loud, unfamiliar voice vibrated through the air.

“Oh yeah, I can smell it, Trifs. Smells fucking good, doesn’t it?”

Ria’s breathing quickened upon hearing the second voice rumble loudly from above. There wasn’t just one, but two individuals stalking her in the woods. Her entire body began to tremble violently as she realised the gravity of the situation that she was in – if she didn’t find somewhere to hide now, whoever those voices belonged to would find her soon. Wide-eyed and gasping for breath, she feverishly glanced around her surroundings in search for somewhere to hide. She darted out from her spot against the tree, desperately looking for something that could provide more cover, but in her haste, she stumbled and tripped over a small stone lying on the earthy ground.

Shit!

The panic in her chest began to escalate rapidly as she scrambled to her feet, the tremors shaking the earth more violently now as the owners of the voices approached her. Once she was on her feet again, Ria fumbled anxiously for her dagger as her legs screamed at her in pain.

Run, for crying out loud, just run!

Her rising fear constricted around her tiny body like a giant serpent, pushing out all the air from her lungs as she trembled in the middle of the forest completely breathless. She stood, frozen in place, her body acting as if she had been glued to the floor. Her fingers clutched the handle of the dagger, her nails digging into the leather material as her body continued to refuse to move.

“Look at what we have here.”

Every nerve in her body was electrified as she slowly turned on her heel to see two goblins looming over her with menacing grins painted across their faces. Her heart nearly burst from her chest as she quickly realised just how much danger she was in.

“Hey, Slorm, that looks like a borrower, innit?” One goblin, who Ria assumed to be Trifs, leered down at her with wide eyes.

“Hells if I know, Trifs,” Slorm, the second goblin, grunted rather loudly. “All I know is that she smells really fucking good.”

It was at that moment did Ria’s legs finally decide to unglue themselves from the soil below. She sprinted in the opposite direction from the goblins, her breathing ragged and fast as she desperately attempted to escape.

“You won’t be getting away that easily!” Slorm’s voice boomed from behind her and within a matter of minutes she felt giant, greasy fingers close around her small body and lift her upwards into the air.

“Let go of me!” Ria shrieked, thrashing in his fist, but her struggles were fruitless as the goblin’s grip on her only tightened in response.  

“You’ll make one tasty morsel,” Slorm said, running his tongue over stained teeth in anticipation.

“Hey!” Trifs exclaimed, placing her hands on her hips. “You can’t just eat the borrower! Do you realise how much they’re worth? We could be rolling in gold if we sold her to the right person.”

Slorm furrowed his brows as his gaze darted over to the other goblin. “What do you mean? Selling them to the right person? I’ve never heard of a borrower before in me life until today. How do you know so much, Trifs?”

“Mistress Minthara tells me things.” Trifs flicked back her dusty brown hair and flashed a smug look at Slorm. “She used to trade borrowers to another drow who dwells in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Somethin’ about their blood being highly valuable.”

Ria’s heart almost caught in her throat upon hearing the goblin’s words. Borrowers being traded for their blood? Now that was something she hadn’t heard before. She hadn’t seen someone of her own kind in a decade and had just accepted that she could very well be the last. But if borrowers were being sold and captured for their blood…perhaps this was the reason why she had failed to find someone else of her own kind. Despite the peril she was in, she had to find out more information from the goblins.

“W-what do you know about borrowers being traded for their blood?” Ria said firmly, trying to hide the fear wavering in her voice.

Trifs narrowed her eyes at the borrower, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why should I tell you, pipsqueak? That’s for us to know and for you to find out.” The goblin’s gaze flicked back to Slorm. “Come on, Slorm, we need to keep this one and sell her to a blood merchant. Lemme have her.”

Ria gritted her teeth in frustration. “Please, I need to know, any information that you have–“

“Quiet!” Trifs snapped, flashing her pointed yellow teeth menacingly, causing Ria to flinch. “If you don’t shut up and be a good little borrower, I’ll silence you myself.”

Ria faltered, swallowing a lump that had begun to form in her throat and nodded slowly. She wasn’t about to test the resolve of a couple of goblins.

“Trifs, are you sure borrowers are worth a lot of gold?” Slorm whinged, his lips curling into a frown. “It’s hard to believe somethin’ like this little thing is worth a lot of gold. I mean, just look at ‘er.”

Ria’s jaw slacked wide open and she shot her goblin captor a piercing, stern look. “Excuse me?”  

“Shut it,” Slorm snarled, squeezing her tiny body in his fist which made Ria yelp in pain. “You don’t get to speak, rat.”

Trifs exhaled a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. “Slorm, I’m telling you, I’m right on this one! Borrowers are worth a lot of gold, trust me. Minthara told me so. Do you not believe the word of our mistress?”

“Of course, I would never doubt Mistress Minthara!” Slorm hissed, his forehead wrinkled intensely. “The only person who I doubt is you, Trifs.”

A low growl rumbled in Trifs throat. “Okay, fine, look – we’ll try and sell her and if she isn’t worth much, then you can eat her. How does that sound?”

Slorm chewed the bottom of his lip as he mulled it over. “Ugh. Fine. I guess that sounds alright.”

Panic began to quickly swell in her chest once more and her breathing became sharp and rapid. Why did she have to decline Wyll’s offer? Why was she so stupid to walk in the wilderness completely alone? If the goblins didn’t sell her, she would be eaten. Icy cold fear snaked down her spine and chilled her to the bone as her brain went into overdrive. Her now sweaty palms clutched tightly on her tiny dagger somehow still in her grasp as she wrestled in the goblin’s fist.

“You don’t want to mess with me!” Ria yelled, a sudden burst of confidence channelling through her veins thanks to the added adrenaline. “I have some powerful friends that’ll make mincemeat of you both when they find out what’s happened.”

Slorm flashed a wicked grin at Ria, his jagged eyebrows raised. “Oh, and where are your friends now, hmm?” He suddenly brought Ria close to his face, so close in fact she could smell his putrid breath emanating from his foul mouth. His breath stunk of rotten flesh and decay and she gagged at the smell.

“Give her to me, you’re gonna break her if you’re not careful!” Trifs grumbled as she attempted to grab Ria from Slorm’s fist.

“Oi, lay off, Trifs!” Slorm held Ria high in the air out of reach so that the other goblin couldn’t snatch her.

In Slorm’s haste at getting Ria away from Trifs’ grasp, his grip on her loosened ever so slightly in his fist. It was loose enough that Ria was able to pull out her dagger. Without so much as a second thought, she hastily thrust the blade multiple times into Slorm’s clenched fingers that were wrapped around her body, stabbing them as her very life depended on it.

“Fuckin’ hells!” Slorm exclaimed, nearly dropping the borrower in his hand, blood now leaking from his fingers as he brought Ria back to eye-level again. “You little bitch! I’ll crush you for that!”

“Don’t crush her, dingus! We need her alive!” Trifs yelled in frustration and tried to snatch Ria again.

“Fine, you can have ‘er!” Slorm deposited Ria into Trifs’ open palms, but not before shooting Ria a scathing look as he licked the blood off his fingers. “Little shit stabbed me.”

“I’ll be taking that.” Trifs plucked Ria’s dagger out of her hands as if she were taking candy from a baby. All Ria could do was watch in dismay as her only weapon was whisked out of her tiny hands like it was nothing.

“Please, I’m sorry, don’t sell me off!” Ria cried. “I’ll do anything, please, I’m begging you!”

Trifs shook her head as a vile grin spread across her crooked mouth. “Nuh-uh, you’re a bad little borrower. And bad little borrowers go in the pockets.”

“Pockets?” Ria croaked.

The whole world soon became a massive blur as Trifs hoisted Ria in between her thumb and index finger and swiftly moved the borrower into her shirt pocket. Everything quickly grew dark as Ria fumbled around the fabric, her heart hammering in her chest relentlessly as fear threatened to smother her entire body.

Glancing upwards, she was faced with a swampy green eye that stared at her intently like she was a prized possession through the opening of the pocket.

“You better make yourself comfortable, little borrower. You’re gonna be in there for a while.”

The only source of light that came from the pocket entrance suddenly sealed itself, shrouding everything in blackness in less than a second. Ria felt her body grow cold as the reality of the situation began to set in and she had to force herself not to cry. Either she was going to be sold off for her blood, or she was going to be eaten by goblins. This was the end for her.

Gods…why me? Why did this have to happen to me?

Tears pricked at her eyelids and she stifled back another sob. After everything that she had been through, this was how things were going to end for her. It was all for nothing after all.

In a matter of seconds, Ria’s entire world shifted as she was thrown about inside her fabric prison and a loud thump resonated through the air. The thunderous impact sent jarring shockwaves throughout her entire body, her limbs flailing as she flopped against the wall of the pocket.

“T-Trifs!” Slorm’s voice cried from outside, slightly muffled from the fabric of the shirt that she was still trapped in.

What is going on?!

Gathering her senses, Ria staggered to her feet and was relieved to discover that she was seemingly okay. The jarring impact must’ve been from Trifs falling onto her back. At least the goblin hadn’t fallen on her stomach, otherwise it would’ve been a very gruesome outcome for the borrower.

“You fucking vampire! Get away from me! Y-you shouldn’t even be alive in the sun!”

Ria’s breath hitched and her heartbeat pounded relentlessly against her chest.

Vampire?

She began to forcefully climb her way out of the pocket and using all her remaining strength, she pushed the pocket flap open and scrambled out into the outside world. The glaring rays of the sun caused her to squint at first as she readjusted to the change in light. She was standing on top of Trifs’ chest, who was passed out on the ground. Her eyes glanced over the goblin’s neck and noticed twin puncture wounds adorning her green skin.

Swallowing back dread, she turned her gaze away from the bloody wound on Trifs’ neck and looked straight ahead. Her stomach dropped as she saw a very familiar figure standing in front of her. Astarion loomed over Slorm, his teeth buried in the goblin’s neck as he feverishly drank his blood. A blood-curdling cry erupted through the air as Slorm’s very life essence was drained, and all Ria could do was watch in horror as all the colour from the goblin’s face faded away in a matter of seconds. Astarion dropped Slorm’s lifeless body onto the ground, now an empty husk, crimson dripping down his mouth as he ran his tongue over his lips hungrily. Time seemed to come to a standstill during that moment as Ria could no longer move her legs. Astarion’s red gaze soon trailed over to her trembling form and his eyes widened in surprise.

“Ria?” Astarion stammered. “What in the hells are you doing here?”

Words could not find her lips as she struggled to speak, her body overcome with fear as she stared at the giant vampire. Blood from the goblin still coated his mouth and she noticed the predatory look that glazed over his ruby eyes as he stared down at her. Would she be next?

“Darling, please calm yourself,” Astarion said. “I can hear your tiny heartbeat thrumming like a hummingbird. Now, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here or not?”

“U-um,” Ria mumbled, her heartbeat racing even more upon hearing Astarion’s comment. “I…I could ask you the same thing, actually.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes at her, his lips pursed. “Touché.”

She swallowed back the bile that was beginning to rise in her throat and she hastily scrambled off Trifs’ lifeless body. From memory, she recalled that Astarion wasn’t permitted to drain from thinking creatures at the group’s request. Goblins fell under that category, so just what was he doing?

But…he technically saved my life by eating those goblins.

Her chest tightened at the very prospect of the vampire saving her life. Whether he had intended to or not, he had just saved her from a horrifying fate and it made her stomach churn.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Astarion said, his eyes cold and piercing. “I’ve drained a couple of ‘thinking’ creatures – well, one could argue that goblins hardly think at all.” He chuckled lightly at his own comment, a small smile tugging at his bloodstained lips. “But in all seriousness, if you tell the others about this back at camp, I swear-“

“N-no, it’s okay!” Ria quickly said, sensing where the conversation was going. “I won’t breathe a word about this to anyone. And…well…” She released a long exhale as she tried to form the words. It pained her to even form the very sentence, but she had to get it out.

“You technically saved my life from those goblins, so…”

A smug grin wove itself across Astarion’s pale face as he realised what she was trying to say.  

“Do go on my dear.”

Her jaw clenched as she watched him grin arrogantly at her.

“Thank you for saving my life.” She practically choked out the words as if they were coated in poison. “Whether you meant to or not, you still did. So, thanks for that.”

Astarion seemed very pleased with the whole scenario as his grin grew even wider. “Well, that is certainly a turn of events, isn’t it? I never thought I’d be the one saving you, but here we are. I suppose that makes us even now.”

Ria swallowed thickly. Just what was he planning on doing next? The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. She had to distract him somehow and to keep the conversation going.

“Why did you eat those goblins?” Ria asked. “You know you weren’t supposed to, especially if the others find out – which they won’t!” She quickly cleared her throat before continuing. “But, um, isn’t all blood the same? Why go against everyone’s wishes and not settle for animal blood?”

Astarion laughed. “You’re comparing plonk to vintage wine. You can make merry with either, but they are not the same.” He paused to lick some of the goblin blood off his lips. “Blood is life’s essence. And some creatures have so much more life than others.”

“But you still went against the group,” Ria persisted, starting to feel nauseous at seeing so much blood around her.

“So what?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, frowning down at the little borrower. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them. You’ll make sure of that. Don’t forget my actions saved your life.”

Ria faltered and inhaled a shaky breath. Lying to the rest of the group did not sit well in her stomach, but it wasn’t like she had another choice in the matter. There was no way she wanted to risk upsetting Astarion especially since she was so vulnerable – and he was right, he had saved her life after all. If he hadn’t intervened, she would’ve met a very gruesome fate.

“Okay, fair enough,” she replied. “So, what you’re saying is, you feel more satisfied after drinking blood from thinking creatures?”

Astarion scoffed. “As if that’s even a question! Blood from thinking creatures is delectable and far more filling. If I could eat like that daily, it would make the hunger far more tolerable…or at least as tolerable as it can be.”

A thought crossed her mind as she processed the elf’s words. If Astarion drank blood from the likes of humans and other thinking creatures – of course, ones that were bad – perhaps that would make him less inclined to eat her and the rest of the camp. Feeding off animals, while it kept him alive and somewhat sated, clearly wasn’t cutting it as he would not have resolved to eating goblins. At this rate, she wanted to do anything to stop him from looking at her like she was a piece of food while she was travelling with him and the others. And it would benefit not only Astarion, but the rest of the group as well – perhaps with the right words, she could convince the rest of the team to let Astarion feed on their enemies.

Astarion watched her curiously with one eyebrow raised. “What are you thinking in that little head of yours?”

“N-nothing,” Ria mumbled, glancing over her shoulder to spot her tiny dagger stuck in the soil. She hastily picked up the weapon and concealed it into her clothing.

The pale elf furrowed his brows as he watched the borrower’s movements. “You still haven’t told me how you ended up with the goblins. Care to explain?”

“I was going for a walk and they took me,” Ria said. “They…well, one of them wanted to eat me. The other wanted to sell me to a blood merchant for my blood.”

A small glimmer flickered in the vampire’s eyes as he listened to the borrower’s words.

“Oh? Borrowers being traded for their blood? Now that is interesting…I can certainly see why. Nothing has quite compared to the taste of your blood.”

Ria gulped anxiously and her eyes darted away from Astarion’s searing gaze. She was afraid she may have given him ideas.

“You don’t know anything about that?” Ria questioned him, steeling herself.

Astarion frowned. “This is news to me just as it is to you.” He licked a few remaining drops of goblin blood off his slender fingers.

A part of her was a bit disappointed that the goblins were dead – if only they were still alive, she may have been able to prod them for more information. Although it seemed unlikely that Trifs would’ve parted with such information lightly anyways, considering her failed attempt at doing so moments prior. Either way, she needed to find more information, and it seemed the only way to do that was to confront the one orchestrating it all.

Minthara…she is the one who knows. I need to find her.

Ria turned on her heel and began walking back in the direction of the camp. She didn’t particularly want to be the vampire’s company for much longer, especially with all the blood that was splattered over the ground. With the new knowledge brewing in her brain, she had to get back to camp and discuss it with the others – no doubt they would be approaching the Goblin Camp soon, where Minthara most likely would be. There was no way she was going to pass this opportunity up.

“You’re welcome!” Astarion grunted.