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bg-brainrot · 3 months

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The Thousandth Time (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Summary: Astarion and Rogue!Tav make love for the thousandth time. In a bathtub.

Tags: Smut, Slice of life, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, bathtub sex, sloppy sex, seriously just sickeningly sweet smut, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Domesticity is romantic, Hand Jobs, Blood Drinking

A/N: Some context-- I wanted to write soft, gender neutral smut. And by the gods is this soft. I tried to look at what it's like to love someone for so long. In my experience, when you've been with someone for so many years, you still find a lot of love in the little things. which I hope I hit? Anyway, enjoy!!

Word count: ~5.3k

The thousandth time you make love to Astarion, you don't know it's the thousandth time.

It's a day like any other, really.

After a long day at the guild, you've arrived home, a sigh on your lips, a furrow to your brow.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?"

You compose your expression and turn toward your lover. "Astarion," you start, a reflexive wistfulness to your tone. Gods are you glad to see him after a day like today. "Nothing is the matter. Nothing important anyway. Simply glad to be home."

Astarion gives you a look that says he doesn't quite believe you, but knows better than to pry too deeply into issues you'd rather not bring home. "Very well, darling. But you know I'm all pointy ears. Especially if Nine-Fingers has been difficult again."

"Ugh," you say, wincing in annoyance. "Do not say her name right now."

The vampire gives you a bright, toothy laugh. "That bad, eh?" You nod. He walks toward you, arms outstretched. "Mmm in that case, shall we call it an early night tonight?"

You dive into the comfort of his arms, holding him to you, inhaling his fresh, familiar scent. It feels like the day's troubles melt in his cold embrace, and the tension in your body finally relaxes. "That might be nice."

"Dinner first?" he asks, pulling away from you slightly.

You look into his warm crimson eyes, feel that same warmth reflected in your face. Of course, he’d check to see if your mortal needs have been met. "No need, I've eaten. How about you?"

Astarion brings a hand up to inspect your face, this way, then that. It’s as if he’s examining you for injury, not assessing if he can partake in a bit of your blood. "Mmm, you seem a tad tired, love."

"You know I'll manage. Besides, get my blood while it's still boiling with rage," you say, craning your neck for him in response.

"As delectable as that sounds,” he begins, letting go of your face, tracing his fingers along your neck. “I think a bath and bed ought to come first."

You want to argue the point, make sure he's fed to the best of your ability, but the yawn that escapes you is irrefutable. With nary another word, his hand is on the small of your back, guiding you toward the bath.

"Would you like to join me?" you ask him as you open the door. Your expression is calm, the question harboring no hidden intentions. Any other day, you may have raised an eyebrow at him suggestively, begun taking off your armor in a tease– but you're tired, simply not wanting to relinquish the feel of his arms around you.

"Certainly, if it keeps you from falling asleep in the tub…" he trails off, looking at you warily. He appears torn, somewhere between keeping you from drowning and keeping you from resting.

You give him a wry smile. “Imagine that. After felling all manner of beasts and men, finally succumbing to the tub.”

Astarion offers you a reluctant smile in return. “My love, I swear to every god above and below, if you die in any manner even remotely that ludicrous, I shall have to pretend not to know you at your funeral.”

“That’s fair,” you say, holding a hand out to him. “Best to make sure that doesn’t happen then, don’t you think?”

The man can’t argue with that, nor does he seem to want to. After an entire day away from each other, this closeness is exactly what the two of you crave. So he takes your offered hand, and follows you into the bathroom.

It has been years since you had added a tub big enough for the two of you in your house. While the two of you had accrued wealth enough for an entire bathhouse, you’d settled for a more modest setup. At least, modest in Astarion’s eyes.

The floor is made of the finest marble tiles, the walls of intricately laid and patterned brick. And in the center of the room, is the room’s main attraction: the enormous, magical tub. It’s long enough that you could comfortably lay down across the entire bottom, wide enough that you have to extend your arms to reach both sides. The outer edges are infused with enchantments to improve your bathing experience, and the tub itself is made of the highest quality crystal that gold can buy.

Once you enter the room, you activate the heat and water sigils along the basin’s edges and turn back to Astarion. “Would you mind grabbing some soaps from the shelf?”

He gives you a lopsided grin, eyes crinkling with amusement, but still moves to do as you ask. “Would you also like me to bathe you while I’m at it?”

“Oh, would you?” you ask half-joking. You begin to strip your armor off, piece by piece.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, picking out a few of his preferred scents from a shelf on the wall. He’s accumulated quite the collection now, enjoying mixing and matching as his nose guides him. “That could be arranged.”

You’re almost halfway through your armor when he returns, bottles of lemon, bergamot, and sage soaps in hand. “Ah, you know how much I love bergamot,” you say, smiling at it fondly, pausing halfway through undoing your leather straps.

“I know,” he says, placing them next to the tub before turning his attention fully to you. “I also know that you need help with that armor or we may be here all night.”

Holding your arms out wordlessly, Astarion starts to unbuckle each and every strap from the front of your padded armor. As he releases you from its confines, you take a deep, relieved breath and say, “Thank you, love.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he murmurs, leaving a long lingering touch along your now exposed collarbone. “While you strike quite the image in your armor, I think I much prefer you without.”

You laugh, feeling quite light in the now steaming room. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your mind is straying quite far from rest, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugs, beginning to tug at your undershirt and small clothes with each of his hands. “Merely stating fact, my darling.”

With a few smooth movements, he’s taken off the last of your clothing, exposing every inch of you to the warmth of the room and the heat of his gaze. He seems just about ready to bury his head in your neck, begin covering every piece of you in kisses, when you speak, “Excuse me, are you planning to enter the bath in your house clothes?”

Astarion looks down at his own garb, the comfortable satins and silks of a man who spent the day lounging at home. When faced with your words and, ugh, logic, he says with a sigh, “Would you do the honors?”

You need no more invitation before your hands are on his soft, flowing shirt, running along it appreciatively. “Is this new?”

“It is,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Do you like it?”

“It feels magnificent,” you respond, beginning to undo its buttons. “I may just have to steal it for myself one of these days.”

His lips purse at you. “You know, you could simply ask, darling.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you taunt, pulling up on the shirt's edges, tugging it up and off of him. Now, faced with the plane of his ivory chest, your fingers act on instinct. They trail down his shoulders, trace the line of his pectorals, drop down the center of his stomach to the waist of his pants.

Astarion gives you a low, approving noise before asking you wryly, “Now whose mind is straying?”

“Not mine,” you respond, pulling his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. “My hands are just so tired, I’m sure you understand.”

“Surely,” he responds, as he pulls each foot out of his pant legs. “How is the water?”

The bath is steaming by now, visibly fogging up the room, but still, you bend down to skim your hands along its surface. “Ah, it’s warm,” you say, gripping the edge with one hand. “Maybe too warm?”

“No such thing,” he responds, and one of his hands lands next to yours as he bends down to feel the water for himself. The man gives a happy hum before asking, “Shall we then?” Then his now-wet hand is smacking your butt, his head gesturing toward the waiting water.

“Excuse you,” you say, indignantly, as you turn toward him. “I'm tired.” But you don't feel tired. Not after running your hands over his cold skin. Not after feeling the quick contact of his hand on your backside.

“Not to worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

As in, bathing or–? Luckily you don't have much more time to think about it before he’s lowering himself into the tub. Even with his quick movement, even with the water’s slight obscurity, you easily note that Astarion’s cock has stirred in interest.

Ah. While you hadn’t meant to illicit anything by inviting him… it’s certainly not unwelcome. It’s a good thing that your exhaustion is all but melting away under his loving touches.

Acutely aware of his sharp gaze on the length of your back, you turn to face away from him, grab the edge of the tub, and slowly enter its warmth. As was customary in your baths, he would start with your back, so you take a spot in front of him, leaving just enough room for him to settle behind you as he pleases.

Too much room clearly, as Astarion immediately scoots forward, extending his legs to each side of you. You feel his hardening length graze your backside as he does so and can’t help the smile that curves your lips.

"Astarion, dear,” you start, placing your hands on each of his knees under the water. “Are you certain you want to bathe me?"

“And why wouldn't I be?” He leans closer, planting a soft kiss along your spine.

You debate backing up into his groin to prove a point but instead shake your head. "No reason, I suppose."

He begins by lathering his hands in a mixture of soaps, carefully measured out by eye and feel. All the while, you sit before him, hands on each of his calves, thumbs repeatedly rubbing the ridge of his muscles. While he’d had a nice, calm day today, his calves are always so tight from sneaking about– and it’s the least you can do for the man that’s bathing you.

Then his hands get to work.

At first he drags both hands along your back, once, twice. Once he’s made sure that soap covers every inch of you, he starts massaging you, working the soap into your skin, kneading into your sore muscles.

Astarion knows your body so intimately and, after so many years of tending to each other, he rubs all of your tightest spots. His knuckles press deep into your neck. His fingers work around your upper back. His thumbs dig underneath the edges of your shoulder blades, working out the knots he knows lay beneath. And, by the gods, if you thought you’d been melting under his caresses before, now you’re practically a puddle.

You can’t help the noises that come out at the sensation of his nimble fingers at work. Your shoulders ache from a long day of sneaking, stabbing, and general tension of dealing with people– the relief is palpable in the way you relax into his touch, grip his legs, and release several breathy moans.

And with each moan, you can feel his cock growing firmer against you. After the first few, you can feel him shift closer with every noise he draws from you. Knowing your affect on him has always done something to stir the fire in you, and this time it has you shifting uncomfortably as heat blooms between your legs. The both of you spur the other’s building lust, all the while the fresh scent that Astarion’s concocted permeates the air.

Then, when it’s clear he’s done with your back, thoroughly satisfied with each gasping breath of pleasure, his hands drop from your shoulders. They tail down your back, playing along your spine. And, in an almost leisurely motion, they wrap around your torso, where they finally settle on your chest.

I don’t think this is a relaxing bath anymore, you think distantly. Yet you’re unable to resist leaning into his palms, arching into his touch.

Sensing your shuffles, Astarion curls further into your back, almost entirely flush to you now. His fingers feel their way to each of your nipples, first gently brushing against them, then thumbing over them each in turn. They respond eagerly, perking up under his delicate sweep.

“Astarion,” you begin, turning your head back to him slightly and raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” Your tone isn’t exactly admonishing– your voice comes out too quiet, desire muffling all other emotions.

His hands trail down your chest, past the surface of the bath water, settling on each of your thighs before he responds, voice low, lips inches away from your ear. “Making sure that every single centimeter of my beautiful darling is clean, of course.”

“Astarion, I thought you would be, ahh… taking care of me," you say, barely holding on to your trail of thought as his hands dip between your legs, brushing your sensitive core.

“I am taking care of you,” he whispers, finally closing the remaining distance between your back, his front. At the feel of his stiff cock pressing against your back, you give an involuntary gasp. He seems to enjoy your reaction, taking a moment to slowly grind the entire length of his hardened arousal along your backside once, before he settles between your cheeks. “Unless you’d rather leave all of this stress pent up, my dear?”

You’d been tired– been ready to bathe and head off to bed. But something about this man never fails to ignite the fire in your heart– or your loins. “I suppose not,” you murmur, releasing Astarion’s calf, running up his leg with your fingers, landing on his arm, gripping it closer to you.

“I knew you would see reason,” he says, taking your grip as guidance. His hand moves down to begin stroking your heat, building up steadily to the fast-paced rhythm he knows you like. In the water’s buoyant embrace, his actions feel a touch more fluid, his fingers more silken.

It has taken time experimenting together to reach this place– one of utmost security and intimate knowledge of each others’ bodies. But now that you’re here, you’ve found that Astarion’s agile fingers are obscenely precise in their movements. Like he knows exactly which pins to tumble to unlock your utmost excitement.

So you can't help the way you buck into his touch, nor the way the water sloshes around you both in response.

"Careful, love," he says, hand stilling. "We don't want to make a mess this time, do we?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember the last time this had happened, how the floor had been practically flooded. You should agree with him, make sure that such an incident doesn't occur again. But the front of your mind is wholly occupied, thinking only of how he's stopped moving his hand, how being careful may mean that he takes it too gently. "Mmm, we managed to clean it up well enough," you respond, jerking your hips back, pressing against him with need.

Astarion's laughter rings upon the bathroom's stone walls, before it turns into a groan as you roll your hips once more. His voice is a bit huskier when he responds, "You know we’re going to regret it later.”

You smile back at him, satisfied with the noise you’ve elicited. “Sounds like a problem for later, doesn’t it?” Then your hand squeezes his arm, motioning it back down to your now throbbing arousal. “For now, what was that about releasing my stress?”

“Oh very well… in that case, let’s find where you ache most, shall we?” Astarion murmurs, dipping his head, placing a kiss on the base of your neck. “Here?” Your shoulder. “Or perhaps here?” Then his hand settles back between your legs, fingers touching you in a rather delicate caress. “Or maybe here?”

You hum a noise of approval as his . “Oh, there.”

His fingers close on your swollen sex, rubbing languidly as he whispers in your ear, “Mmm, darling. So much tension…” A bit more pressure. “I must simply…” A bit faster pace. “Massage it all away…”

If anything, his touches cause you to grasp at his legs harder, all of the muscles in your body responding in kind to his ministrations. Your back arches instinctively, earning an exquisite groan from Astarion. So when his next stroke causes you to clench, you lean into it, grinding your ass back into the full length of his erection, sliding easily in the water’s low friction.

His other hand finds its way to your hip, helping you match his pace as you continue to rock into him.

The two of you fall into a beautiful, raucous rhythm, each open and generous with your vocal pleasure, the water’s regular splashes punctuating each movement.

“Yes, yes, gods, Astarion.”

“My sweet, you’re the only divine thing here.”

Then your words begin to lose sense, your rhythm begins to falter, and it’s clear that you won’t last much longer under his caring fingers.

You also know that Astarion hasn’t been tended to nearly as well as you have.

So you move to turn toward him. With how his full length twitches against you in urgency, your own nimble fingers ought to return the favor.

Astarion stops you, placing his unoccupied hand back on your chest to hold you in place. "Ah ah ah. Love, I'm here to help you."

"You are helping,” you start, pushing back against his hand. “But I don’t want to leave you like this.” ‘This’ is obvious as the man clearly exercises every ounce of self control he has judging from the visible veins on his arm, the way his legs squeeze reflexively around you each time he strokes you.

He gives you a reluctant groan, one that does nothing to hide his desire. “Must you always be so selfless?” His hand doesn’t release your chest though, and he begins tracing delicate, wet circles around one of your nipples, as he murmurs, “Fine, just let me continue.”

Staying in place for him, you reach back with one hand to feel for his cock. It’s almost unreal how naturally you slot around him, the way your fingers circle around its girth. The entire length, inch-by-inch, the pattern of his veins, the sensitive lip of his head– they’re all intimately familiar to you now. As is finding just the right grip, the right pace.

When you start to pump him in earnest, Astarion can't help but shudder, his movements losing their steady, pulsing beat. In losing his pace, he takes on a new one– erratic, a bit fumbling, but utterly intoxicating.

You're both stoking each other’s fires in tandem, wildly offset in your desperation to touch each other more and more and more.

The water feels almost cool compared to your heated core, to the sweet friction you're building together.

Astarion's face tilts into your back, grunting as he strains to right his tempo– his forehead presses against you, his cool exhale grazes your searing skin. His chilled touch is a reprieve in the sweltering fog of steam and heady lust. Hearing your sigh of relief, he seems all too willing to make more contact.

His lips crash onto your back roughly, and his fangs nick your skin. An involuntary shiver runs through your body as you imagine the pleasure his drinking evokes from you. As you imagine the man behind you lapping at your neck, moaning in satisfaction, flushed pink with your very blood–

"Take some blood,” you offer, breathless. Imagining would never be enough, you find yourself craving the real deal. So when you say your next word, it comes out more pleading than you intend, “Please."

“Whatever my dearest desires,” Astarion replies, voice low and rumbling. He removes the hand from your chest and places it on your shoulder, holding you in place as he places his lips at the crook of your neck. His nose rubs gently against your fleshly washed skin. “Mmm, you smell so good.”

Then his fangs pierce you.

When you first began your relationship, you hadn’t intended to enjoy his bites as much as you do, but after years and years of them, the pain hardly registers now. All you feel is close– So very close to the man you would gladly give your lifeblood to.

He draws a gulp, and you feel the blood course through you, into him.

Another drink, and heat builds in you as you feel his cock grow harder in your hand, his veins more prominent.

A third long pull of your blood, and you feel his fingers quicken at your aching arousal.

You jerk into his hand in reaction, trying to seek an outlet for your pleasure. Your mouth emits a whimper– you hadn’t been comfortable whimpering with Astarion at first, but after he drew one out of you, he couldn’t get enough.

He still can’t, and you feel his lips curl into a smile at your neck, his fingers move with more urgency.

All the while you continue stroking his length, fingers sloppy in your own hazy state. It doesn’t seem like you need your usual dexterity though, because Astarion is practically writhing with newfound reactivity. Drinking blood always leaves him especially sensitive.

One last shaky swallow and he removes his fangs from your neck. But not his mouth. His tongue begins lavishing your puncture wound furiously as he struggles to hold back his approaching peak.

With the way he haphazardly tilts his hips into you, it’s all too evident to you that he’s reaching his limit. He’s not afraid to tell you so either.

"My sweet," he all but moans into your ear. "I–I can't last much longer. May I?"

You know what he means, and you honestly can’t last much longer either– you’re positively light-headed from a mixture of bliss and blood loss. So you stop your movements, nod your addled head at him.

He removes his hands from your core and neck, reaching out to your legs. Pulling them out and apart, he shuffles behind you, moving impatiently.

Realizing he can’t do this alone, he gestures, motioning for you to put your legs up.

Still a bit dizzy, you carefully place each leg on either side of the tub’s edges, hooking yourself in place by the ankles. It feels a precarious balance, but you can hardly care when you’re this eager to have Astarion inside you.

Astarion seems just as eager, rubbing his length against your ass hungrily as you get into position.

Perched and ready for him, the man is quick to help once more– his hands grip your asscheeks and lift in a swift movement. You’re particularly buoyant in the water, and you rise higher than either of you had expected. Your hand instinctively reaches out, gripping the edge of the tub to brace yourself, and you hear Astarion give a deep chuckle from behind you.

Holding back your own almost giddy excitement, you try to compose yourself for him. Angling your hips up, you’re almost floating on the water for a moment as Astarion lines the tip of his cock with your entrance.

However, you’re instinctively clenching a second later when a pair of your lover’s fingers tease at your opening. You barely avoid clamping your legs back together at the sensation.

Recovering from the tickling probe, you look back to see a lust-drunk fanged smile, lips smeared with red. "Astarion, please,” you mutter. “I can't balance like this all day."

"Come darling, I know you’re quite talented," he taunts, easily gliding his fingers back in, curling until you truly do begin to lose balance.

"Astarion," you breathe out, clutching the side of the tub even harder to stay afloat.

Then his fingers slip back out, replaced a moment later by the head of his cock. “No need to worry, I have a seat for you right here.”

His palms cup your backside, his fingers squeeze, as you lower your hips back down, taking in his entire, slick length effortlessly in the water.

“Now isn’t that better?” he asks, grabbing your hips with one hand, the other finding yours on the side of the tub for support.

“Mmm,” is all that you manage, as you adjust to the sudden fullness. You haven’t lain with anyone else in so long, it’s hard to remember a cock other than his. Still, you can’t help but feel like he settles in you just right. Especially when you both slot together neatly, you taking him to the hilt.

Astarion drops another kiss on your back. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. Now that you’re securely held in place by Astarion’s hips flush to yours, your legs hanging off the tub’s edges, you place your second hand back at your aching arousal. You begin to stroke yourself back into the same fervor Astarion had you in moments ago.

After a small, deliberate thrust of his hips, testing how you rise and fall in the water, Astarion starts moving against you. It’s slow at first, the water rippling out from you both in small waves. Then his hips rock back, only to drive back into you with sloshing force.

“A–ahh!” Sweet hells, he knows exactly how to hit your most sensitive spot. You had already been so heated, but now, with your lover’s full, hardened length pressing into you? You feel dizzy with pleasure.

Years of lovemaking, and you’re still in awe of how well he knows your body. It’s more than his previous experiences culminating in some kind of skillful paramour. No, this was built through time, trial, error, effort.

So as this gorgeous man you call love bounces you up and down in his lap, you feel yourself coming undone. Your breaths come ragged as you ride his cock, water spilling out of the tub with each and every buck. Your fingers clench the tub, barely holding on as you feel your pleasure coil tighter and tighter.

Astarion places kiss after kiss down your back, and you hear him murmuring, "Gods you're perfect." A harder kiss. "You feel so good." Another thrust. "Each." A nip at your skin. "And every." A thrust. "Time." Another kiss. "I–I love you."

For your part, you’re finding entire sentences difficult. With the feel of him throbbing inside you, the way his lips feel along your back, each roll of his hips, you're truly only capable of a few phrases. "Astarion." A splashing bounce. "I love you–" A loll back of your head. "Oh hells–" A dip of your hips. "I love you too."

When your peak finally runs through you like a shockwave, when you clench around him in ecstasy, those very same words are still on your lips. "I l–love you."

He moans at the sudden tightness, the muscles that now hold him deep within you. "Darling," he breathes. "Oh love. I can't–"

Astarion means to say that he can't hold on much longer. He'd already been so close, holding back only to keep your pleasure going. So you reach down to his fingers on your hip, as best as you can while still hanging on for dear life, and squeeze his hand. A wordless affirmation, a plea to join you, as he always has.

And it’s that silent communication that has his fingers lacing through yours, his neck craning back, his hips stuttering.

When he comes, there's no pretense or performance. There hasn't been for many years. So when you look back at his face in a hazy fuzz of emotion, the expression you see is utterly unbridled.

It's a look of sheer pleasure– his perfectly pale skin flushed a light rosy color, his usually impeccable hair stuck to his face in a mixture of sweat and water. His eyes are shut, his mouth agape as he spills into you.

So enraptured are you by the mundane beauty of his climax, that you’ve strained too far from your precariously balanced position. Your foot unhooks from the tub’s slippery edge and you fall onto Astarion’s lap with a large splash as he finishes. You’re both left panting and wet in the wake of both your and the tub’s peaks.

Water drips down your face, all of the soap bottles have been knocked from the edge of the tub. The high you’d felt just moments ago feels doused in the stark reality of making love in a bathtub.

However, when you feel Astarion’s breathy laughter on your back, feel his softening cock twitch with his last few thrusts, you know he’s still in fine spirits.

You stay together for a few moments as you both collect yourselves. Water is wiped from eyes, your second leg comes back into the tub, and several deep breaths are had. Once you’re relatively sorted, Astarion pulls himself out of you with a long, happy sigh.

The man falls back from you, sitting against the end of the tub in a tired flop. Then he’s patting the water in front of him, motioning you to join him in some post-coital cuddles.

You don’t need much more of an invitation.

Floating through the now much lower water, you stop just in front of him. Movements relaxed, you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and scoot into his waiting embrace.

"So," you start, looking at the wasteland of water and strewn soap bottles around the tub. "Looks like we made a mess."

"I told you we would," he says, closing his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

"I know," you say, leaning into him comfortably. Your body is truly exhausted now, but your mind is a buzz of joy. "It was worth it though."

He laughs into your shoulder, squeezes you tighter. "Feeling better, I take it?"

"Gods yes," you say, tilting your head into his silver hair. "Thank you."

"Oh my sweet, it was my utmost pleasure," he replies, and you can feel his smile on your skin.

You both lean back, grinning at each other like fools. The smiles stay, even when your lips meet in a soft, wet kiss.

You will need to clean the room, the tub, likely your bodies once again– but all you can truly feel right now is content. Enjoying Astarion’s gentle fingers as they trace a pattern onto your skin, the warm water all around you, you very nearly forget that today was merely a day like any other.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, it was messy and wet and silly– somehow, it was sweet, caring, and loving all the same.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, you didn't know it was the thousandth time.

Just as you hadn't known your tenth thousand kiss, nor your hundred thousandth 'I love you.' Were anyone to ask you about them, you might not even remember the days or events surrounding any of them.

What you do know is that each individual moment holds no less importance, that the affection shared between you doesn’t diminish with each recurrence.

You’re unable to quantify your love, nor would you want to. All you really want is Astarion– his soft lips, tender hands, and whispered words of love– until your dying breath.

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brain-rot-central · 4 months

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Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor.

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul.

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins.

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck.

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end.

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other.

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak.

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried.

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath.

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well.

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.”

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix.

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-”

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with.

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago.

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

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

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed.

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows.

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion angst #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x female tav #my writing #bg3 fanfiction

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thewritetofreespeech · 4 months

Text

BG3 - Taking care of sick Reader

prompt: I'm sick. so I wrote this up to help me feel better.

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‘Your head throbs in tandem with your own heartbeat. Pain coursing through your body with every stifled breath you take, as your tight chest struggles to fill with air. It had been a long time since you were sick. You nearly forgot how uncomfortable it was. Without the tadpoles protective qualities shield you anymore, this new wave hit you like a stone wall. You almost wished to have it squirming mass back in your brain just to be over this. Luckily, you were not alone at least.’

Astarion

“There there darling, allow me.” He handed you a small cup of water. Letting you sip from it for a bit before he put it back, and you fall back against the bed. “You still look awful.”

You glare at him; or at much as you could with this pain behind your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean…you must still be feeling bad and that is unfortunately for you.”

He sat on the edge of your bed, just looking at you. You can see a bit of concern on his handsome face. You wonder if he’s worried about you or what to do. “I’ve never had to take care of anyone who was sick before. I don’t know what to do.” So, it was the former. “Vampires can’t get sick. So I’ve spent the last few centuries in perfect health, minus a few injuries here & there.” He told you. “Should I…get you a new blanket? Prop your head up? Make soup? I’ve never actually made soup before either, but I’m sure I could be up to the challenge.”

You reach out and take his hand in yours. The cool feel of his skin a welcome reprieve against your warm, clammy one. - Just stay with me.

Astarion smiled. “I can do that.” He curled around to lay in the bed beside you. With no fear of sickness, he had no reason to stay away from you until this past. Your body letting out a sigh as his coolness enveloped you. Feeling some of your heat sap out, even over the covers. “You know, maybe I have a knack for this healing thing.” You let him think that, and curl into Astarion’s body to rest and try to regain your strength back. Sleep is easier this time. Hopefully you’ll be better soon enough.

Ascended!Astarion

Coughing and sputtering, you try to sit up as to not choke on your own spittle. An undignified end for a hero. To vanquish so many enemies and an Elder Brain, only to die by asphyxiating on their own sick.

“Still not feeling well, my treasure?” You look up to see Astarion standing in the doorway. His face neutral as ever, but with just the slightest hint of disdain only you can pick up on at the corner of his mouth. Maybe it’s the smell. Or perhaps because now you are so weak. “I bet you wish you had taken me up on my offer now, hm? This wouldn’t be happening to you if you had just listened to me.”

You watch him as he sauntered over to the side of your bed. Annoyed by his comments. You knew deep down Astarion was still hurt that you turned him down on becoming his spawn. He said such cruel things to you in the moment. Even with all that power, still the boy who lashed out at other. But even with everything he said, he’d never left you. Or more to the point you hadn’t left him, as this was his palace, but he hadn’t pushed you out. Comments and jabs here & there said out of latent anger, but always some excuse quickly on why you couldn’t leave just yet.

“Nothing can be done about it now though. I wouldn’t dream of biting you in this state. Agh…” You felt the shutter was uncalled for. You felt bad enough psychically already. Did you really need to be degraded too? “In any case, I’ve had the servants go and fetch you somethings to aid in your recovery. I wouldn’t know the first thing about mortal illnesses after all but they seem to know the trick.”

– Say nothing to him

Bending down at the waist, Astarion pressed his lips to your forehead. The cool touch soothing to your feverous brow. “Ugh. Salty. I’ll be much happier when you’re back to normal, pet. Anyway, must dash. If you need or want anything, please let the servants know. I’ve instructed them to tend to your every need, and expect no slip ups. I look forward to having a new conversation when you’re…better, my treasure.”

You knew, even as he left, what the conversation was going to be about. Another offer to turn you again. You had only turned him down before because you thought you’d have more time to decide. It was literally a life-changing decision. But, laying here, sick and weak as a kitten, you were beginning to wonder if the change might not be a welcome one, as you fall back asleep.

Gale

“Alright love. Here we are.”

You open your eyes and sit up. A little as a tray was sat across your lap. Bread, fruit slices, a bowl of something steaming, and…a flower, all adorn the tray in front of you, and you arch a brow at Gale. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to feed you any strange potions or what not. Despite all my magic and study, there seems no cure for the common cold. No, no, this is just good old kitchen ‘magic’. A Dekarios family recipe past down for generations.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. You trust Gale though and take your first bite. It is delicious.

“I’m glad you like it.” Gale told you with a smile. “I must admit, I feel a bit conceded in this moment in being able to help you. I wish I could say it was pure altruism, or concern for your health, but it’s not.”

- What do you mean?

“Well, I’ve never had someone to take care of before.” He told you. “Mystra never needed anything of me but my loyalty. And…my body from time to time. You need me for things though. Not as often as I would like sometimes. Your independence is a marvel still. But for now, I get to help you. Help you on the road to recovery. I hope it is a speedy one but I have to say,” he reached out and took your hand in his own, “I don’t mind taking care of you.”

You suppose his underlying message was sweet, and you weakly squeeze his hand back.

“I’ll leave you to eat and rest then. Should you need anything, anything at all, just ring this bell and I’ll come to help.” A bright, crystal bell appeared in Gale’s hand, which he presented to you before putting it on your tray. “Be well darling.” He gave you a quick kiss before he saw himself out. Checking on you regularly, with or without the bell, to make sure you didn’t need anything.

Wyll

“Still feeling under the weather then?” You look up to see Wyll entering the room. A bowl of something in his hand. “Come on. Sit up. You need to eat this.”

- Continue to lay down.

“Come on…don’t be like that.” Wyll moved to help you up with his free hand. As delicate and gentle as a badger as he hoisted you up. “Here. This will help you well better.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. It smelled of spices though. Rich and full, as well as a red color to it. To humor Wyll, you take a bite.

- It’s spicy!

“Of course it is. That’s how you know it helps. Tri-pepper soup. My grandmother used to make it for me when I was sick as a boy.” You stop gulping the water by your bed and look at Wyll. “Since my mother was gone, she took care of me often when my father was away. The duties of his work, then Flaming Fist, and then again Grand Duke kept him away a lot. So, she stepped in to take care of me. Until she got older, I had to take care of her. ‘til the end.”

You lower your spoon and just watch Wyll. The loss etched on his face like his scars. For someone usually so good natured, you forget how much he had lost in his life.

“But! Her recipes live on. Now, eat your soup to help sweat out the sickness. And you’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I guarantee it.”

You feel a little manipulated into eating the spicy dish. How could you say no to such a fine, dead woman’s recipe? It takes a lot of will, but you eventually gulp it all down. Wyll seemed pleased. He then took your bowl and left you to rest. Your stomach churning with the spicy soup now bubbling in it. Unable to fall back asleep with the torrent raging in your gut.

Shadowheart

A cool towel pressed against your forehead like a soft caress. Gentle and serene.

“I wish there was more I could do for you.” Shadowhearts voice called out behind the dark of your eyes. “My magic is only for curing wounds and battle ailments. Sicknesses well…being a source of comfort was not something that was taught to me.”

You want to tell Shadowheart that she was doing a fine job. But your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt like it was made of iron it was so heavy in your mouth.

“I can’t recall a time I was sick like this in the past. But I do remember once I was poisoned. Part of my training. Warriors of Shar must be immune to all poisons, least we fail our mistress in such an unseemly way. Anyway, it was horrible. I would writhe in pain for hours while I waited for the poisons to pass. Nocturne would come in now & then, with Mother Superior was busy, and dab my head like this. It helped. I hope it helps you all the same.”

- Turn towards Shadowheart and tell her thank you.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Shadowheart replied with a sweet smile. “After everything you’ve done for me. This is the least I can do.”

Shadowheart took the cloth away and stood from the bed. “I’ll let you rest now. I can…find some herbs and salts to maybe help with the pain. Again, this is not my forte. Eliminating pain. But…I can try.”

She rushed out of the room. Set on her task as you continued to lay in bed. Slowly drifting off to sleep for now, now that your skin was not so hot and your mind a little clearer.

Lae'zel

“What are you still doing in bed?” You turn to look at Lae'zel in your doorway. Her frame stoic and strong as ever. “There is much to be done today. We must make hast.”

- I can’t Lae'zel. I’m sick.

“tas'ki! Absurd. You’re much stronger than some istik disease. Get up and get moving. Your body will not heal if you continue to wallow in this manner.”

You try to sit up as Lae'zel commanded, but your head swims the second you get upright. Lae'zel sucked on her teeth. “Nevermind. Clearly you are in no condition to be out of bed today. I am unaccustomed to this, as no true Githyanki would dream of falling ill and be a burden on their crèche. Perhaps rest is what is needed.”

Before you can tell her thank you, Lae'zel went over to the window and opened it. Letting the cool, fresh air in. “But you must leave this window open to purge the sickness out. Wallowing is one thing, but to marinate in such sick? Disgusting.” You glare at her a little. Not appreciating that she was implying that this was all your plan.

“I will leave you to your rest and check on your progress later. I trust your recovery will be swift.” Lae'zel stepped closer to the bed. Still far enough away, but closer than she was. “Get well soon. It pains me to see a warrior like you weakened this way. And someone I am fond of. It crushes my heart. I do not like it.”

Your face turns into one of surprise at Lae'zel’s back as she left the room. Closing the room behind her. You had not expected that from Lae'zel. To show open concern. The room was much colder now, but the crisp air was a welcome expanse in your lungs. You would need to get up to close them later, but perhaps that was Lae'zel’s plan all along.

Karlach

“Hey there soldier. Feeling any better?” You lull your head to the side to stare at Karlach. “Oof. That good eh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

She pulled up a chair by your bed and sat down. Face still in that almost perpetual smile of hers. Optimistic as ever, although a bit more tepid than usual. “But hey, you’ll be fine though. You’re tough! I’d check if you had a fever or something but…you know.” Karlach held up her hand. Still fiery and hot from her infernal engine, even if she was gifted to touch. “I wouldn’t be the best judge on who runs hot.”

The two of you sat there for a bit in quite. But quite was never long with Karlach. “So how do you think you got sick? Too long out in that swamp marsh? Going to sleep with wet hair again? Like, when I get stabbed, I know exactly where it came from. Do you know when you got bit by the sickness bug?”

- I don’t know Karlach. Please let me rest.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous. Guess that doesn’t help. I’m just worried…you know…that this might not be something I can help you fight. Monster, demi-gods, ghouls, I can fight that all day! But this…you have to do it on your own. And I hate sitting by the side lines.”

Karlach stood. Leaning in to give you a brief, warm peck on your cheek. “I’ll let you get some sleep then. But let me know if you want some company. I’m really good at that part.”

The tiefling then left, and the room suddenly felt emptier without her presence. Like a void had just sucked up all the energy without Karlach in it. Still, you fell asleep. Trying to think of interesting dreams that you might share with Karlach when you wake up. You were sure she would enjoy that.

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months

Note

Hii I saw ur reblog about the kiss prompts!

I choose - "if you win, i'll kiss you"

With nervous kiss and height difference! 😳🙏

I actually had a hard time trying to fit these prompts together but I think I did pretty well!

Warnings: knife throwing, height difference

Word Count: 1,327

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“What’s that make it now? 12 to…?”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Come now, dear, you’re being too harsh - my memory isn’t what it used to be, you know. How many wins do you have?”

Your glare could have burned a hole right through him, all the while Astarion looked every bit the smarmy bastard he was. He just loved teasing you. It satisfied him to no end to peer down at you as you fumed. Steam could come pouring out your ears and he’d still have that smug smirk on his stupid face.

You huffed through your nose, fighting the growing urge to throw the dagger right at his head - you’d miss anyway. This whole game started when you’d tried throwing a knife at a goblin as a last ditch effort. You missed horribly, and Astarion just couldn’t let it go. “Zero.”

He gasped dramatically and laid a hand on his chest. “Not a single one?! Well, this won’t do!” He leaned in, teeth showing as he grinned wickedly. “How about we make a little bet? Make things a bit more interesting.”

You scoffed. “So you can sweeten the deal in your favor and wipe the floor with me, again?”

“Hmm, I tell you what: in the interest of keeping things interesting, I’ll give you two throws. If you hit, you win.”

“Let me guess - you get three.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please, darling, I have some tact. I’ll get one throw. If I can hit the dummy square in the head, I win.” He accentuated the point by flipping his dagger in the air, easily catching it by the hilt by pure muscle memory alone.

You frowned, studying his face for any sign of deceit. You were getting really close to hitting… Gods, this is a terrible idea. You sigh. “Fine. What do you propose?”

A spark of mischief flickered in his eye, so quick it could have just been a trick of the light, but you knew him better than that. “If I win, you’re responsible for sewing up everyone’s clothes for a week.”

“And if I win?”

He smirked and lowered his face to be right next to yours, cold breaths tickling your ear as he whispered. “If you win, I’ll kiss you.”

Your heart raced as your face flushed. You could tell he noticed, too, when he pulled away with that self-satisfied look on his face. You cleared your throat, urging it not to shake as you grumbled, “It sounds like you’re making more out of this either way.”

“Yes, but one is certainly more desirable for you, no? Besides, what are the odds of you winning? You should have nothing to fear.”

You frowned, but he had a point. Resigned to your fate, your shoulders slump. “Fine. It’s a deal.”

“Excellent.”

You both lined up about 10 feet away from the straw dummy. It had numerous marks in its head and body, all landed by the vampire spawn beside you. But you felt good about this time. You felt you could actually hit it.

You didn’t hate the idea of kissing him, especially if it meant saving your hand the cramping of patching up your companions’ clothes, but, well… You’d never been kissed before. There was no reason why, you’d just never been close enough with someone to warrant it.

Your heart raced thinking about it. Your face was as warm as Karlach by now. But you swallowed down the feelings and focused. If you just aimed very carefully, you might be able to get it.

“You first, love.”

Gods, now was not the time for endearing pet names.

“Hush, fangs.”

He chuckled softly, but stayed quiet otherwise. You held the handle of the dagger, just as he showed you, and aimed. You took a breath, lifted it up, and with a quick swing it was flying through the air… Right over the dummy’s shoulder. You growled in frustration.

Cool hands smoothed over your shoulders, urging them to relax. “Take it easy, dear. Keep your wrist locked and keep your elbow tucked in when you lift the dagger to throw.” He slid his hand down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake as he showed you how to keep your wrist straight and your elbow close to your ear. Then, he backed away and watched.

Shaking off the phantom feeling of him standing so close, you readied yourself again. You aimed, pulled your arm back so your elbow stayed tucked in, and steadied your wrist. With a deep breath, you threw the knife.

Time seemed to slow down as it flipped through the air. All sound faded away. You weren’t sure you were breathing. All you could focus on, all that mattered, was this stupid dagger.

In barely a second, the knife found its mark in the straw ribcage of the dummy.

A tidal wave of excitement and joy shot through your system. You cheered and pumped your fists in the air and gave a victorious yell that put Karlach’s to shame. And then, in the next instant, another knife flew by and lodged itself right next to yours. Your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes were wide when you turned to Astarion.

He smiled, part genuine and part impish. “Congratulations, darling. It seems you’ve won.” His smile only grew more flushed you became. He crowded into your space, peering down at you like a fox staring down a rabbit. “Don’t tell me you’re going to back out of our deal now.”

You swallowed. “I…” You glanced around camp, but no one seemed to be paying attention. They were all too busy preparing for the next day. You met his eye again and lowered your voice to a whisper, meant for his ears only. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

His eyes widened, brows raising minutely. He never thought the brave, compassionate leader before him would be so… inexperienced, to put it kindly. You’d always seemed to carry this sort of confidence, he just assumed…

“We don’t have to,” he back-peddled. He’d never have suggested it if he’d known. Well… Okay he would, but that look on your face - puppy-dog eyed and uncertain. It twisted his insides. He started to step away, out of your space, but you caught his arm.

“No, I…” You took a breath to steady your shaky nerves. “I want this.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, but he could still feel the anxious way you fiddled with the fabric of his shirt. It was cute. And terrifying. You wanted him to be your first. It was only fair - you were his first after all.

Moving slowly to give you a chance to back out, he raised his hands to cup your jaw, fingers brushing over your pulse and tilting your head up. You were shorter than him, enough that he had to hunch a bit to meet your eyes like this. You held onto his arms, too unsure to hold him anywhere else. He leaned down, noses almost touching. He could see your eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth; feel your heart beneath his fingers as it skipped with his proximity. In a final act of courage, you stood on your toes and met him halfway.

It was clumsy at first. You had no idea what you were doing, all you knew was his lips were soft and he tasted like wine. He gently tilted your head, smoothing out the initial uncoordinated start. His lips meshed with yours as he showed you exactly what to do. When you experimentally nipped at his lip, he almost groaned. It wasn’t perfect, but he was sick and tired of perfect. It was wonderful. He was almost reluctant to pull away. But you still needed to breathe, living thing that you were.

He chuckled as he pressed his forehead to yours, watching with rapture as you caught your breath, lips swollen so beautifully. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red

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thechaoticdruid · 3 months

Note

Hello! A scene rewrite for your consideration (no obligation of course!):

Astarion’s siblings’ reactions when they break into the party’s camp at the Elfsong Tavern and see Astarion and Winnie cuddling in bed. After the fight, Winnie asks him about not having empathy for the other spawn and Astarion says his line, “No one ever looked out for me. No one ever said a kind thing to me…you’re the only one.”

angst/hurt/comfort?

Thank you for your amazing writing! ❤️

Forever

Pairing: Astarion x Named!Tav (Winnie)

Note: I hope you don't mind, but some of it is word for word from the game while some is changed a bit, but it's pretty much the same context. This is literally one of my favorite scenes in the game! Also please ignore that the photo is not set in the same place as this oneshot. The oneshot takes place in the Elfsong!

Content: Violence, Fluff, slight angst with comfort. Nothing too bad!

Winnie had never thought she'd feel safe enough to sleep peacefully, undisturbed. Not since before the attack on the Lost Grove, her childhood home, did she ever truly feel safe. Today had been particularly tiring since Winnie, Astarion, Jaheira and Karlach had been on the trail of Jaheira’s friend Minsc. Karlach seemed super excited to meet him, apparently he was some great hero or something. Winnie had never been too educated on Faerûn’s heros. They didn't tell stories of them in the Lost Grove. Now she was resting up in their room in the Elfsong, snuggled up in Astarion's arms as he played with her hair, face nuzzled into his chest. The two of them laid on the bed together hidden away from the view of the others as the drapes closed off the room they were in.

Astarion was awake watching over the human druid as she dozed off in his arms. The sound of the Elfsong’s ghostly songstress lulling her to sleep. Astarion leans over and plants a chaste kiss on her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender and cherry blossoms, the druid’s signature scent.

For a while she was in a peaceful slumber, but the wicked don't sleep, someone was here to disturb her rest.

Astarion’s pointed ears detected the sound of footsteps and the scent of undeath hit him hard.

His siblings had come for a visit, slipping in through the curtains that separated them from the rest of their sleeping companions. Glowing red eyes gazed over at the couple in curiosity.

“Astarion? Finally we've found you.” A tiefling female said as she stepped through the curtains. She was followed shortly by what appeared to be a shirtless human male. The two immediately noticed Astarion curled up around his sleeping human love. Astarion mentally cursed himself for allowing his siblings of all people to witness him in such a vulnerable moment. Cazador was the last person that needed to know of his relationship with Winnie.

“Looks like he found himself a pet mortal.” The man murmured. Astarion slipped away from Winnie and stood in front of her.

“Oh, her? She's more of a convenient blood bag, really.” Astarion bluffed, hoping his lie would make sure Cazador didn't see Winnie as a means of leverage to use against him. Winnie shifted, exposing the faded bite marks upon her neck.

“Nevermind that brother, you're coming with us.” The tiefling said before she and the male began to corner Astarion.

Winnie slowly shifted, unconsciously feeling around her bed for her lover. Her eyes blinked open as she suddenly heard the sound of shouting.

“GET THE HELLS AWAY FROM ME!” Astarion snarled. Winnie leapt out of bed now wide awake as she noticed Astarion backing away from two unfamiliar intruders with his fangs barred.

“Peace brother, we've come to take you home.” The tiefling said. Winnie glared at them and moved over towards Astarion's side.

“The master needs all seven of us for the ceremony, come with us and be reborn. We'll live again.” The man said.

“You're not taking Astarion anywhere.” Winnie growled out, taking a step in front of him protectively.

“Our master needs him for the Rite. He must attend.” The tiefling woman said.

“Oh, I'm well aware of what the master needs. But don't we deserve better?” Astarion spoke up.

“Better? What do you mean?” The other male spawn questioned.

“After these centuries of torment, I know what you all want, more than power, more than to walk in the sun.” Astarion looked at the other two spawn before a devilish grin formed upon his lips. “You want to see him dead.” The other spawn looked at one another as Astarion continued. Winnie rose an eyebrow at Astarion, curious about what he had to say. “The Rite of Profane Ascension will be mine and he won't see a scrap of its glory. I am going to complete the ritual as the Ascendant and then I am going to kill him!”

Winnie's eyes widened in surprise. He was really still trying to go through with this despite all of her warnings. Winnie wasn’t a stranger when it came to killing, but his siblings were under Cazador's control just as much as he'd been. Whatever their sins were, they weren't their own. At least that's how it was in Winnie's mind.

“This is your chance. Name me your new master. We will get our revenge and you will live again.” Winnie could see the lie in his smile, the hunger for power was clear as day. He'd throw them to the wolves for his own gain. Normally Winnie would be sickened by such a rotten scheme, but being that it was her lover cooking it up she just felt disappointed.

“Astarion, you can't be this cruel. You're asking them to die for you in that ritual.” Winnie looked at him, eyes saddened. Astarion tensed as he looked back at his lover's round puppy-like eyes, the soft pout of her lips nearly making him cave.

“Don't look at me like that. With the sweet little ‘disappointed I'm not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout. I can't take it.” He glared back at her slightly. “I can't be what you want to see in me.”

“Die in the ritual? Whatever are you speaking of? We're going to cheat undeath.” The tiefling said, looking quite puzzled.

“Cazador is lying to you. He needs your souls to complete this ritual!” Winnie exclaimed, “why else do you think he wants Astarion back so badly?”

“The master doesn't need to lie to us. He controls us completely. Why go through the trouble of giving us hope?”

“Oh, I don't know…Maybe because he's a sadistic piece of shit?” Winnie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at their ignorance.

“Shit. She's right, we're doomed.” The male spawn said. “Alright, we'll help you. Just tell us what to do.” Just as he was about to speak further the tiefling woman began to cry out in pain, her body glowing red.

“The bond’s hold. He owns us. We have no choice, we must obey. Get out of here, Astarion!” She shouted before the other male began to glow red as well. Winnie tensed, the sound of the front doors to the connecting rooms slamming open sent her into survival mode. Almost immediately she dropped down, wild shaping into her direwolf form with a loud howl to alert the others.

Astarion quickly grabbed his rapier from under the bed as his tiefling sister came at him with claws. Astarion's blocked her with the blade, slashing her across the chest and kicking her back. Winnie immediately jumped on Astarion's brother and sank her teeth into his shoulder. While the other members of their group fought with the other invading spawn, they were able to slip right past them and make their way towards the room where Astarion and Winnie were locked in combat.

They lunged at the transformed druid, sinking their fangs into her flesh and draining her of her precious ichor. Winnie released the spawn, jerking back with a high pitched dog like whine as the other spawns mobbed her.

“Winnie!” Astarion pushed his sister out of the way and rushed over to the druid as she was forced out of her wild shape and into her human form. The arcane trickster kicked one of his siblings off her before casting scorching ray and hitting multiple of them with it. Winnie had to take a moment to regain her composure as her head was spinning from blood loss.

This is bad….Fuck…If only the sun was….Wait a minute!

“Sol Invictus!” Winnie suddenly cast daylight on one of the nearby chairs, sending intense beams of light at all of the nearby vampire spawn. Their skin began to sizzle and scorch. Astarion's siblings immediately made a run for the exit, disappearing into mist before they could be turned to ashes. Winnie huffed a bit, eyes glancing around at the blood and damage caused by their uninvited guests.

“What a mess. Well at least you've met my family now.” Astarion sighed, running a hand through his hair. Winnie crossed her arms and glared at Astarion.

“Oh come on, you're not still pouting over this!” Astarion whined.

“That was low Astarion. Lying to them like that.” Winnie huffed out.

“I don't know why you're so upset. They're only six vampire spawn!”

“Can’t you at least be a little sympathetic to others who suffered the same as you?”

“None of them would do the same for me! 200 years or torment and no one ever said a kind thing to me! You're the only one.” He said, gesturing towards the brunette haired druid.

“Astarion.” Winnie frowned, a saddened look in her eyes.

“Other people don't have a heart like you….You're you….No one is like that.” Astarion said softly before suddenly feeling a soft hand on his cheek as Winnie looked into his eyes.

“Star, there are so many wonderful people in this world who will love you as much as I do. You just need to open your heart to them.” Astarion placed his larger hand over Winnie's.

“Don't sell yourself so short. I'm doing this for you too, you know. To make sure we're both safe. Forever.” Astarion smiled sweetly as he gazed lovingly back at his druid before adding a firm, “for good.” Winnie smiled at him, eyes growing soft.

“Your sweet words aren't gonna change my view on this I'm afraid.” Winnie smirked, “but I am rather happy to hear you want to protect me.”

“Stubborn little thing.” Astarion murmured before leaning in to kiss Winnie's forehead. “I saw you get bitten quite a few times. Are you alright?”

“I feel woozy I guess, tired.” Winnie admitted, before receiving another forehead kiss.

“Wait here, I'll go get you something to eat.”Her vampiric love hummed.

“Ooh! Ooh! Cheese!” Winnie said giddily as her partner rolled his eyes with a smile before walking off to fetch her some food.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Taglist for Winnie's during campaign oneshots:

@vixstarria , @paganwitchisis , @kerwin290710

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tavs-brainworm · 3 months

Text

Ascended Astarion appeals to me as a horror/tragedy enjoyer. On the one hand, you get the tragedy of feeling like it’s too late to pull him back from the ledge, but also there’s this really ominous, tense feeling that the worst is yet to come, like he hasn’t hit the bottom yet.

The way Spawn Astarion breaks down in great, heaving sobs after killing Cazador — it’s painful and ugly, but it feels good. It’s cathartic, it’s a release of tension, it’s his first step towards letting go and starting his healing journey.

In the ascended route, the tension just keeps on building. AA doesn’t allow himself that moment of vulnerability, he just pushes the pain and fear down ever further, thinking he can keep it bottled up forever, but it’s only going to keep building and building.

And I’m the little freak who really really wants to be there to see how much harder he breaks when he finally hits the ground.

#will I ever stop being unhinged about him #astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 #aa at the end of the game is like the protagonist at the start of a horror story #want to. study him under a microscope

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astarion-obsessions · 8 months

Text

I have a fic idea floating around in my head after I read a dialogue from Astarion I didn't come across in my playthrough:

Spoilers for Astarion's story and romance ahead!

"Once, in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy who I couldn't bear to bring back to him. So I ran, instead of hurting that sweet man. After Cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year. A year of silence. Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out. More months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death. So don't you ever judge me for doing what Cazador ordered. Nothing can make up for that. Not even Cazador's death."

And this hit me really hard, like, I can't even begin to imagine what bottomless desperation and hopelessness Astarion must have felt.

So, I have an idea for a fic with a monster hunter Tav, who is the very boy Astarion has saved back then. And I'm being realistic, I will probably never write this fic, so I thought I would share my idea with you guys at least. So here it is:

Tav is this exact darling boy, all grown up now. Astarion sees the resemblance at first sight but he's changed so much that he tells himself that it's not him, it's not the man from almost 200 years ago. When Tav tells his name, Astarion is somewhat relieved. The man he spared all those decades ago had another name. He's been called "xxx" not Tav. The resemblance of their names Astarion chooses to ignore. Because Tav doesn't seem to know him at all according to his behaviour.

Only when Tav introduces himself with his full name, Astarion is hit full force with the now undeniable realisation that this is indeed the man he's refused to bring back to Cazador. Suddenly he feels like the young vampire spawn again, who didn't know what horrors would await him after this fateful rebellious act. How he would suffer just because he wanted to spare this man's life.

But why hasn't he said something? Astarion hasn't changed since then, even without a reflection he is absolutely sure of that, so Tav must have recognised him the second he saw him. So why?

Then it dawns on him. He's forgotten. Tav simply doesn't remember him anymore. Why would he? It's centuries ago. Even for an elf this would feel like a lifetime ago and they've never met again. He was just a fleeting, irrelevant occurrence of an almost deadly night for him, nothing more. And Astarion doesn't even think of reminding him. What purpose would it serve?

Yet, in the days to follow Astarion can't help himself but think about it every time his gaze so much as brushes the figure of their party's de facto leader.

He's seduced him once, he could very well do so a second time. After all, he needs his protection secured. And so he casually asks to everybody around for whom a loved one waits at home. None for Tav, as far as Astarion interprets his silence to this topic.

But then, when they encounter the Gur in the swamp, Tav reveals that he's a Gur friend and also a monster hunter. He greets Gandrel as an old friend and assures him that he will be back in town for sure. But when Gandrel tells Tav why he is there, mentioning the missing children and him hunting a vampire called Astarion… Tav reacts as if he's never heard of him.

Astarion is completely baffled and can't decide what to feel, what to do. He's anxious because of the Gur hunting him, having expected for Tav to just turn him in, but he didn't and now Astarion is anxious and utterly confused. He feels like a helpless animal, trapped in a corner, about to lash out, do anything and everything to be safe.

They part ways with the Gur, wishing him well, and then there's silence. Smothering, deafening silence. Astarion doesn't dare to ask. Ask why he's covered him up. Ask if he remembers. Ask anything at all. Because he's afraid. So so afraid. And if this encounter has taught him anything, it is that he will never be safe, never be free as long as Cazador lives.

Now he needs Tav on his side more than ever. He could ensure his protection against the other Gur. Astarion won't be having one second of peace before this is sorted out, but he doesn't know what to do. Maybe Tav just wants to turn Astarion in himself? Maybe that's why he's never said anything about remembering him. Because he was laying low, waiting for the right moment to strike and take him back to his master. To the very man Astarion has spared him all these years ago.

Perhaps this is what he gets for saving a monster hunter. The very embodiment of a vampire's fiend.

What he doesn't know is that Tav became a monster hunter shortly after the tragic night he met Astarion. But not to hunt the spawns, but to hunt the ones who made them what they were. To hunt power hungry vampire lords. Just that Cazador had been too mighty for a rookie like Tav back then. So he learned. He fought. He hunted. To make a difference to spawns like Astarion.

When they settle down for the night, Astarion's mind is racing. He is sure that Tav will now make him his prey. Astarion needs to act. Fast. He volunteers to keep watch in the first shift- and Tav joins him.

They haven't talked directly to each other since before the Gur, and Astarion is still a nervous wreck, but tries to pull himself together. He chooses to overlook the fact that Tav very well knows what he is, be it since the Gur or - let's be realistic - since the first time they've met outside the nautiloid, and reveals to him that he is a vampire.

Tav already knows this and says so. He reveals that he's known since they met… 200 years ago. So there it is. The proof that he indeed remembers Astarion, he just hasn't said anything because he wasn't sure Astarion remembered him. How could he not? He was a gorgeous sweet boy, one that Astarion might have been seriously interested in… in another life.

Tav tells Astarion that he didn't see him for what he was right away, but their first encounter weighed so heavy on his chest, that he couldn't stop thinking about it. He met some Gur back then, who came around a lot, so they talked about anything and everything. When the Gur mentioned why he was in Baldur's Gate, it hit Tav like a brick to the face. He saw the connection to the night with Astarion clearly, and that's when he knew Astarion was a vampire. Most likely a spawn.

Tav recognised that the Gur had a very… one-sided opinion of vampires and their spawns. But now Tav could put two and two together and guess what Astarion had done for him. He's spared him.

After this crucial realisation Tav had searched for clues, hints, anything that would lead him to Astarion. He would hunt every now and then, wouldn't he? But after almost a year of nothing but a name - Cazador - Tav decided to move on, fearing that Astarion had just vanished.

But even so, their night together has influenced Tav to an extent he didn't know was possible. He had wanted to see the world, to experience its wonders. His tribe had warned him that it was a cruel world, but Tav heard its calling and couldn't just ignore it. And yet, no words could have prepared him for what he had found.

But now that they found each other again, Tav is determined to help him, and Astarion finds himself in a storm of feelings. Would things truly turn to his favor? Could he really dare to let the hope sprout once again after all these hopeless, horrifying years of abuse and domination?

Astarion had learned quickly - and painfully - just what it means to grant himself the luxury of something delusional like hope. But maybe this time he truly has the chance to defy the odds…

Will Tav stand by his side? Will Astarion overcome the demons of his past and find his true self? Will Astarion and Tav work out what they mean to one another on the way? It's a journey with twists and turns and a future utterly uncertain…

Let me know what you think! Maybe I'll get motivated enough to start writing this fic if some people are interested in this scenario...

#astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion romance spoilers #bg3 spoilers #bg3 fic #astarion fic #fic ref #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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mintharan · 6 months

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I've been burdened with terrible visions. Walk with me.

It struck me how Spawn Astarion with Duke Wyll and Ascended Astarion with Duke Wyll could work as negatives of each other.

For instance, Wyll marries spawn Astarion, they are so happy everyone around them gets hit with the fallout. Wyll singlehandedly makes nightly soirees a thing. "I just think parties should happen at night, there's no point in holding any kind of grand event during the day if you really think about it." Just so Astarion can attend and be the centre of attention and speculation.

Everyone wonders about the Duke's mysterious husband who never goes out during the day. Rumours abound. "I hear Duke Ravengard is extremely jealous and doesn't let his husband out of his sight, locks him up inside the house so none may gaze upon him." "Nonsense, I hear the man is actually a pale drow and the sun hurts his eyes." "More nonsense, I hear he's an insufferable prick who thinks everyone is beneath him and only comes out at night because the sun makes other people's flaws too apparent."

You get the gist of it. Astarion delights in having all these rumours about himself, and tells Wyll to stop trying to dispel them. "Darling, the people of Baldur's Gate get bored easily, let them speculate, it's better than starting yet another cult." They adopt Lily Aurora, who Astarion raises to be a menace. Wyll thinks she's just darling even as people look in horror as she attempts to chew the furniture.

It's all very sweet, despite Astarion's occasional maudlin periods about not being able to go out into the sun.

Now, Ascended Astarion and Duke Wyll get exactly the same story, except no one's happy about it.

This works best imo if they were together before Astarion's ascension and then Wyll broke it off. In this case he'd choose to become a Duke out of an extreme sense of duty to protect the people of Baldur's Gate from the monster Astarion had become.

They would orbit each other constantly, Wyll reminding Astarion that he couldn't go too far without consequence and Astarion testing the limits of Wyll's feelings for him (the love was still there, just twisted).

Eventually the loneliness gets to them both, but mostly to Wyll, who can never get over Astarion, and in a moment of weakness gives in. It feels like a victory to Astarion at first, but like everything else about Ascension he soon realizes it's hollow.

Wyll isn't happy about compromising his morals, even if it's for love, and he despairs in not recognizing the man he fell for in Astarion. Wyll tries to end it many times, but Astarion has him wrapped around his finger, with sex, but mostly with the mimicry of the romance they enjoyed during their early courtship.

Astarion fears one day he'll leave him for good and that he'll be alone. Again. Haunting the halls of his former prison with only his memories for company.

So he brings Lily home, and at first Wyll is horrified but soon he finds comfort in the child's presence. He stays home for longer periods of time. Less 'Duke' duties take him away from Astarion. He's a fucking genius, he solved it.

Except it's obvious Wyll loves the child more than he loves Astarion. He takes to being a father like a duck to water, and while he's home more often all his time is spent with their daughter. His daughter really, he seems to think Astarion will be a bad influence on Lily if he as much as breathes near her.

So his grand plan backfired and now he's so jealous he can barely see straight. He wishes he could take back the damn girl and return her to the Ilmater priests.

But then he remembers. Cazador had made good use of a father's love for his daughter when he made Leon do everything he wanted to keep Violet safe.

Astarion starts doing the same, manipulating Wyll with veiled threats to Lily's life. Wyll knows exactly what he's doing, but he's powerless to do anything. Astarion got the child on his own, they're not married, Wyll has no rights to her.

But he could have, Astarion reminds him. Dangling the promise like a noose. If he agreed to become Astarion's consort, he could have everything.

"Have I not been made into enough of a monster?"

"Darling, at least we'd be monsters together."

It all comes to a head when Astarion threatens to turn Lily instead. "Think about it, she'd be your sweet child forever. She'll never grow up to blame you for anything."

Wyll gives in, allows Astarion to turn him and becomes his consort. They get married, it's a grand event, with the whole city in attendance.

Astarion is triumphant, Wyll is resigned. He becomes more accommodating to Astarion's whims, and Astarion wonders if that's the result of his influence over him through their bond, or Wyll finally accepting the love he can give him.

It kills him that he'll never know.

Astarion has everything he ever wanted, he just wishes he could be happy about it. Wyll still dreams about the shy kisses they traded on an empty beach with only the moon for a witness. Another life.

#bg3 #wyllstarion #bloodpact #wyll x astarion #astarion ancunin #wyll ravengard #i should write these fics especially the ascended scenario #but i'd rather read about them ;-;#also lily aurora ravengard it's such a wyllstarion name are you kidding me #in my hc in the happy version Wyll chose Lily and Astarion Aurora #i mean aurora: literally refracted sunlight during the nighttime??? hello can anyone hear me??#there's the other latin and literal meaning of 'dawn' which is also fitting #in the ascended version he chose both names because he was subconsciously thinking about leon's daughter violet #another flower name #and aurora again it just works #i know there's wyllstarion truthers at larian and they are doing the MOST #i salute their efforts

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 month

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Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn Astarion x F! Ghost Reader)

Chapter Four: Regrets

Synopsis: You wake up in a place you've never seen before and shit hits the fan pretty quickly.

CW: Mentions of unwanted touch, gore, violence, mentions of child loss (Victoria)

Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. Birdie's 'image' is a stock image. I will not describe the readers body in detail- she is just merely on the banner for ✨drama✨. I believe the picture of Astarion is from @cheekylittlepupp . And then the symbol of Orcus in the back is a free image off the internet.

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!

Chapter Three : Chapter Five: AO3

When you wake up again, your head is spinning and there is a man leaning over you with a smile on his face- he’s dressed head to toe in Paladin gear and there is a boot print with a compass insignia on his chest. The man is pretty, his skin has a slight bluish tint to it, but otherwise it’s more caramel colored, and he has a goofy, boyish grin. His hazel eyes bore into yours and his black messy hair frames his face.

Astarion would distrust him immediately.

Your head is throbbing and your abdomen still feels the ghost of the arrow going through your much smaller form. Yet, all you can think about is getting back to Astarion as soon as possible. You will destroy the world if you have to if it means being by his side again.

“Welcome to the City of Manifest!” he yells with excitement.

The city of what now?

“Oh no- I need to g-“

“Come on, get up, I have places to show you!” the man says, “my name is Brayden- a Wyst Paladin, most beautiful human you will ever meet, and,” he turns around with his arms wide, “certified tour guide for the newly dead!”

Newly dead? You’ve been dead for a few centuries now. Wait, are you?

“Dead!? Like gone gone?” you begin to panic, “no- I can’t! I- I have someone waiting for me to come back!”

Your whole body begins to shut down- the air you don’t need being dragged into you in quick harsh gasps from panic. You can’t be gone. You can’t be!

You hope Astarion is okay- maybe you aren’t too far away from where you died? You did just kind of show up here- you thought you would have been dragged into the Ethereal Current.

“Oh don’t fret! I’m sure they are on their way now- the City is not that far from wherever you died since you woke up here instead of in the good ole current,” the man continues to march towards the gates of the City, “people often come and live here with their passed loved ones or you can purchase a Manifesting Ring and be a solid humanoid outside of the City.”

“Solid?” you ask in confusion.

“Notice how you can feel the breeze?”

You pause and a small gust of wind kisses your face. Your hand goes hesitantly to your cheek- you actually felt the wind. Maybe you didn’t really notice because you were able to feel the wind as a cat anyhow so it wasn’t something you had to miss for too long.

“Wow,” you whisper.

You slide off your shoes and put your feet in the freshly rained on grass- a laugh of delight escapes your lips. You are genuinely truly solid.

Something sparks to life inside of you and all of the ‘What Ifs” begin to swirl around in your heart- making you positively giddy.

This means that you have a chance- an honest to Gods chance- at being romantically involved with Astarion. You jump and shout- running across the grass with your shoes in hand and Brayden chasing after you. You don’t stop until you hit the gates- breathless, but with no use for air.

It’s incredible. The ache in your legs, your lungs, and the cobblestone beneath your feet hurts, but in a way that is familiar and foreign all the same. You can feel frizzy flyaway hairs on your head and you can smell!

There must be a pastry shop somewhere and you are determined to find it, but first things first- you need to find Astarion.

“Grief and a half woman,” Brayden comes to a halt in front of her, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be leading you!”

You chuckle awkwardly, “Uh sorry- I guess I just got really excited.”

Brayden smiled understandingly.

“I was the same way when I arrived. I was also grateful to have another chance at life.”

You hum in agreement and allow him to actually guide you this time. He shows you the Magic Swan Tavern- the most popular in town for it’s shenanigans. He takes you through the entirety of the Portal Ward District and you make note of the nice dagger that Deric’s Weapons is selling.

Maybe, if you can scrounge up some money, you can buy it for Astarion as a, “Sorry I keeled over. Again.” present.

After the Portal Ward District, you end up in the Market Ward with people shouting out their prices and discounts. Then you are off to Forestview and then back through the Portal Ward- The Leafy Branch tavern is far more quiet and calm than The Magic Swan Tavern, but you think you would prefer the noisiness and fun. You’ve missed out on that kind of environment for a very very long time.

There is so much to remember that your head feels like it’s swimming- there’s candle shops, pastry shops, live entertainment, loved ones reuniting, and people walking around with their neighbors or friends.

You are snapped out of your mystified reality when you arrive at The Tombyard district- the smell of rot and the feelings of despair make you feel colder than you already are.

“This is the Tombyard- there is an eclectic group of individuals here,” Brayden says uneasily, “Necromancy and other magic that disturbs the peace of the dead are forbidden, but that doesn’t stop everyone.”

There is a loud clattering from the alleyway and the Cleric steps in front of you protectively.

“Wait here,” he says sternly, “don’t go away with anyone who is not me or your friend, okay?)

“Okay?”

What in the hells is happening?

10 minutes pass, then 20 before he reappears, except his eyes are different. Instead of being more brown, they are more red. His footsteps are way too soft compared to the clunking he was making earlier.

“I really appreciate the tour and everything,” you say to Brayden, “but I need to go and find my friend-”

“Oh come on- just let me buy you one drink!” He grabs your arm, trying to drag you to the Tavern.

The man’s entire demeanor had changed. He was not puppy-like anymore- he was far too cool and collected. Horrifically pushy too.

“No- I really need to find Astarion.”

“Forget him,” the man rolls his eyes, “he hasn’t gotten here yet. He’s probably moved on.”

What? This man was just telling you about all the places to show Astarion and now he is saying he isn’t coming?

You feel tears prick your eyes and your lower lip begins to tremble. That’s not possible- is it?

The man looks forlorn when he realizes how upset he made you. He comes over and gently pats your shoulders before looking you dead in the eyes. Although his face shows empathy, his eyes are empty and devoid of emotion.

You just need to get back to Astarion, this man doesn’t matter.

“Hey, look,” he says with a sigh, “I know someone who can help us find hi-“

“Where!?” You practically scream, “take me there right now!”

The man smiles at you and gestures for you to follow him back towards The Tombyard. Something inside of you screams to stop following him, but the dumb part of you, the worried part of you that needs Astarion NOW, is winning over common sense.

There are far more alleyways in the Tombyard than you realized (you weren’t really paying much attention anyway), but something about going through alleyways with a stranger screams, “Astarion is going to have a cow when he realizes you followed a stranger when he has to rescue you from said stranger.”

You stop, letting ‘Brayden’ go further ahead when your stomach turns even tighter. Something is wrong. Very very wrong.

It’s like being in the Catacombs again.

The man stops when he realizes you aren’t following him anymore, both of you staring at each other and standing mere feet apart.

Whoever this is- this is not the tour guide you met mere hours ago. This person has ill intentions.

“Who are you?”

The question hangs in the air like a threat. It wasn’t meant to be, but knowledge is power and that’s all you have right now.

His face contorts and the man snarls in frustration- revealing massive canines. Your eyes go wide as the entire illusion drops.

It’s Leon. Of course it’s fucking Leon.

“You and Astarion are an annoying fucking duo,” he says harshly, “between the two of you- I really don’t know who is worse, but I am certainly fed up.”

Oh that might be a threat.

You take off running- sliding around corners of alleyways with Leon hot on your heels through the back alley of The Tombyard. He was Cazador’s best hunter for a reason and he certainly isn’t losing your trail.

Oh to be a cat again- there are so many good hiding spots. Astarion is going to have to take you to Halsin immediately after this- you definitely need to add ‘Druid’ to your limited list of skills.

Leon sends you flying with a thunder wave and you have officially decided flying isn’t for you.

The wall hurts as you crash into it- your nose makes a cracking noise and some kind of blue liquid is coming out. Your head is spinning- the world is spinning. Your pants are ripped at the knees from skidding and your hands are raw with ectoplasm.

You’re going to die die (two times in a day? What the hell did you do to deserve this?)

Leon comes into your vision and you try to push yourself away- absolutely desperate to get away. It’s no use- every attempt at kicking out at him or fighting him off has failed and now he’s force feeding you a paralytic as he grips your scalp painfully- slamming your head against the pavement until you stop fighting back.

Tears slip down your face- you should have listened to your instincts. Now you’re never going to see Astarion again and it feels like a massive gut punch. You always waited too long and never took risks, but of course the one risk you take is going to be your last.

And it’s not the risk you wanted to take today.

I am so so sorry, Star, you think remorsefully, and Gods do I wish I told you I love you.

*******************************

The sound of Leon screaming and cursing in indignation is what snaps you back into the world.

He really fucking lost it after Cazador died, huh? Hopefully Victoria isn’t being subjected to this at home. If she is- you are going to need to locate the nearest looney bin for insane undead (it’s a literal bin, you and Astarion frequently joke about Gardening and used Cazador as fertilizer for really pretty pink flowers).

You are both in a cage (how fitting- a Birdie in a cage) and you think you may be in some kind of temple. It smells even worse than Szarr Palace and the individuals walking around are very obviously somewhere between a rotting zombie and an intelligent, humanoid. Astarion had described a man like this once- Balthazaar- and to your recollection, the man was a Necromancer.

So none of this really bodes well for either one of you right now.

“We had a deal!” Leon spits at the man looking at him in amusement from the other side, “a soul for a soul- I brought you someone else’s loved one and you owe me.”

“Hm,” the man says, “even when immortal, humans are still the dullest humanoid.”

“Ha!” You snort, Leon glaring at you, “what? You deserved that one.”

He growls something unintelligible towards you before turning to speak to the Necromancer again, but he’s already gone.

“You dolt!” you exclaim, “look at what you’ve done! You bored the man with the keys away.”

“Don’t you mean scare?”

“I know what I said- dick cheese,” you scrunch up your nose, stick out your tongue, and flip him off.

“Gods,” Leon groans, “you are as bad as Astarion. Maybe I should have tried to kill him the first time I asked to take you and he said no. Or I could have been more aggressive in my hunts, but of course the fucker has developed some basic common sense and combat skills.”

Your face must reveal some element of shock because Leon just snorts and shakes his head in disdain.

“That son-of-bitch never talked to you about that, did he?”

“Obviously not,” you quip, “does this look like the face of a person who knows what you are talking about?”

Leon looks at the ground- his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Victoria died,” he says flatly, “Dalyria killed her before the ritual. I came here, hoping she was waiting for me, but she wasn’t able to get out of the Ethereal Current.

“I ran into that Necromancer,” he says with disgust, “and he told me that he could bring back Victoria, but he needed the soul of another person’s loved one. An eye for an eye- to complete the spell. I had already done the original groundwork- you were the missing piece.

“I asked Astarion to talk to you two days after you both left Baldur’s Gate, since we all knew he had some weird attachment to a cat, but obviously you didn’t get a say.”

You are floored. This definitely should have been a conversation for you two to have- a child literally died! You would have happily helped! You will definitely be having a conversation with Astarion about this. You at least deserve to have a say over your own life force.

“Ha, I thought he’d leave his guard down, slip up, something,” Leon scoffs, “but no. Every trap, every location, and every attempt has been thwarted by Astarion. Hells- I even fucking killed you before you left that portal and it’s like he’s still keeping me away from my daughter because he taught you to be suspicious.

“I wish Cazador had been able to torture that runt one last time or better ye-“

Somehow- your hand ends up around Leon’s vocal chords. And not just in a normal way- oh no. Your hand is submerged in his skin and is practically translucent. If you weren’t so positively pissed- you would have probably taken the time to throw up.

“You will not talk about him that way,” you leer into the man’s face and he does actually look afraid, “You would be lucky to be half the man Astarion is and if you slander his name one more time, I’m going to possess you and make you lap up disgusting, congealed blood off the floor- capiche?”

Leon continues to just look back at you in shock and horror so you tighten your grip.

“I SAID- CAPICHE!?”

Leon nods wordlessly and you let go of your chokehold on his vocal chords. You are also still in shock, but he doesn’t need to know that. He can’t know that you are very very new to this whole interactive ghost thing.

“What happens now?” You ask slowly, “do you know what is going to happen to us?”

Leon shrugs and just falls to the floor- sitting down against the cage in defeat.

“I don’t know, but I can’t imagine anything good.”

You frown, “what makes you say that?”

“Because of us.”

A chill runs up your spine and you begin to develop goose flesh along your arms. Slowly, you turn in the direction of Dalyria’s voice and what you see- you can hardly fathom. A blood curdling scream leaves your mouth.

Dalyria, Violet, Petras, Yousen, and Aurelia are all chopped up and sewn together at different places. One massive body with mismatched eyes adorning Dalyria’s head and the other eyes and mouths stitched shut. Dalyria has two tongues and drools pouring out of her mouth. They are all stitched onto Yousen’s torso but with Petras’ arms and legs. Every part is mutilated in some horrific way.

You put your face in your hands and sob so hard you begin to gag.

“Leon did this to us,” Dalyria slurs into the open, “we were the groundwork. Miss Incognito is still being worked on, but she’s gone too.”

No! You scream to yourself, no! They should all be happy- living their lives! Not- not this!

You favored Astarion, but you did like the others and you liked Victoria too. You tried to help them too when you could and they are- were- genuinely good people who never deserved this.

With shaking hands and chattering teeth- you feel something light up inside of you and a wave of red blurs your vision.

“You MONSTER!” You scream, getting up right, “you had no right!”

You kick your foot and will it to become translucent and it does. Leon’s head goes flying backwards into the cage and you try not to think about the squishy contents on your shoes.

The rage, grief, and sadness in your body is all inflicted onto Leon in crazy, supernatural ways. You are blinded by powers you didn’t even know you had, you barely even remember what actions you took or spells you unintentionally cast.

When Leon is finally lifeless and destroyed- you go to the other side of the cage and curl up in a ball in the corner.

You’ve never killed anyone and you are beginning to regret it now. Leon is unrecognizable and you struggle to look away.

Did you really just condemn a man to death because he had tried to get his beloved daughter back?

“What an impressive display of power!”

You look up and come eye to eye with a Lich of all the fucking things. Astarion is going to be so upset with you when he finds you. You can already hear him castigating you.

“WHAT IN THE WRETCHED HELLS WERE YOU THINKING!?”

Oh, you were just thinking that he may leave without you if he thought you fucked off and you love him too much to never see him again.

Just some silly little feelings is all.

For once, you are being the impulsive one. Hopefully Astarion is prepared to be the prepared one this time.

If he even comes for me, you think, I wouldn’t have gotten within 100 feet of this place if I had known there was a Lich here.

“You know, Leon said there was something special about you,” he circles the cage, “I thought he was talking out of his ass.

“How wonderful of him to have brought me such an incredible gift before his untimely demise. I suppose he should consider himself lucky- at least this way he can see his daughter again.”

The Lich chortles and a shiver goes up your spine as one of his lithe fingers reaches through the cage and strokes the side of your face. You feel your tears start up again in full force and then he cuts your cheek with his nail before lapping up the ectoplasm that flows through your veins through the cage. His breath is foul and rancid- his tongue feels like sandpaper on your skin.

“Mmmmm delicious,” the Lich smiles, “it’s a shame you’ve found a way to be useful to me and my research. Hopefully I will be able to indulge in you later.”

No, no, no! This can’t be happening.

“Pl-pleas-please don’t hurt me,” you say through sobs and tears, “I wo-won’t tell anyone what I saw- I will never come back here! Please!”

The Lich frowns and looks annoyed with you.

“Orcus help me, I hate beggars and weaklings,” he scoffs, “I’ll keep you with me so when I have use for you again- I know you won’t be very far.”

A searing pain roars through your body and the world goes completely dark.

****************************************************************

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper

Special thanks to @davenswitcher thank you for helping me brain storm 💜

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x you #bg3 #karlach #astarion x female reader #astarion x f! reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion angst #astarion fanfiction #astarion x female tav

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thatdangeroussmile · 3 months

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I ascended Astarion for the first time and I was given the option to Detect Thoughts before I knelt to see “What he really thinks of me”.

Long post but interesting analysis of Ascended Astarion and him turning the player character under the cut

Things to keep in mind (but that I know probably don’t really matter):

Approval was at Exceptional (100)

This is a Dark Urge play through so I’m the literal child of a God (which all companions knew at this point)

No Astral tadpole had been used or discussed (the subject was dropped entirely which now I regret).

I did indeed have sex with Mizora and I am also romancing Halsin (both interactions have no impact on your romance with Astarion)

So tell me why, when I did my wisdom check to detect thoughts, I GOT MY FUCKING FEELINGS HURT.

LIKE MY ACTUAL FEELINGS.

FOR REAL, MY GUY? AFTER EVERYTHING? YOU’RE GOING TO DEGRADE ME FOR ETERNITY?

BUT FOR WHY?

And when I refused, “it’s not hard to find someone like me once in a millennia” is what he spat at me (while checking his nails so unbothered) and the interaction ENDS ABRUPTLY.

I, of course, went back and went through with it because I went through hell trying to ascend this fucking asshole but I could use some insight on why Ascended Astarion decides to start degrading you as soon as he ascends.

I kissed him at camp just after Cazador’s dungeon, and I got one of the three very degrading kisses and my character hadn’t even been turned yet. Thank goodness it wasn’t one with the slap included.

It was all downhill after the long rest.

SO LET’S UNPACK THIS

At first, I was like, after all that he went through it sucks he’d turn me into a spawn too. You have an option to say this to him before he changes you and he again, tries to explain it away, gaslight, and manipulate you into trusting him so he can bite you.

But, it isn’t just a bite. Not like when he was changed right?

RIGHT! In my mind, I was like, I’m not delulu he’s definitely toxic but this toxicity feels unfortunately familiar.

I reblogged a post (I don’t have it now but scroll and you’ll find it) that got me thinking, why would Larian make this choice for Ascended Astarion if AA is the real Astarion without the mask? Spawn Astarion spent the whole game talking about how much being a spawn sucked and then as soon as he isn’t one is going to try to make us one? That doesn’t make any sense story wise OR character wise.

Anyway, the post in question talks about creating a vampire bride and the lore in Dungeons and Dragons 2e.

Even if you are or arent familiar with the lore but have played bg3 to hell and ALWAYS romance Astarion, chances are you always have the dialogue after he feeds on you in ACT 1

Where he says, “If I’d been a true vampire, that bite would have turned you into a vampire spawn, like myself”.

The dialogue goes heavily into what it takes to make a true vampire, but we also immediately learn that if you’re a true vampire, it doesn’t take much to make a spawn (Astarion’s change into spawn follows 5e rules- the bite must take hit points to zero and then he was buried in the ground for him to rise the next night under Cazadors control). Meaning, if us as the MC had been paying attention, there is no exchange of blood to make a spawn. The subject gets nothing. They are bitten, dead and buried to rise as a slave.

Returning to the part of the ACT 1 dialogue about how one makes a true vampire, Astarion says “In Theory” meaning he isn’t sure. But yes, “The Vampire would drink your blood and you’d drink theirs,”.

Sound familiar?

ACT 3 right before he changes you, “I’m going to drink you dry and then grant you one drop of my blood”.

This isn’t how you make a spawn. This is how you make a true vampire or more specifically for the case of the game a vampire bride but the ritual is almost the same.

They drink your blood, you drink theirs.

Another way you can tell that he didn’t turn you into a spawn is that, when Spawns emerge, the emerge knowing exactly what to do and how to be a vampire.

Because your character was not turned into a spawn but is still very much bound to Ascended Astarion (if you’re dark urge and go to the tribunal after and try to throw your weight around as a child of bhaal, they call you a slave and then initiative starts), is because you’re a Vampire Bride(gn).

Vampire Bride’s do not wake up knowing what the hell is going on so AA straight up lies to you. You do indeed have free will and while, no you still cannot just walk away because he’s still your creator, he can’t compel you to do anything. And, that’s why you’ll still be seen as a slave by outside forces and other gods because you would need AA permission to break your bond.

Anyway, why this toxicity felt familiar is because the first thing he says is “Thank you for trusting me”. And then he goes ahead and lies to you and DEGRADES YOU TO MAKE YOU FEEL POWERLESS.

And then love bombs you to make you stay “The world will be yours and mine, etc”

MORE DEGRADATION

BECAUSE FOR ALL YOU KNOW, YOURE A SPAWN AND COULDNT LEAVE IF YOU WANTED TO.

Even though he made you a true vampire, his bride. And instead of telling you that and trusting you, he degrades and lies to you and makes you think he could control you at any time to MAKE SURE YOU NEVER LEAVE HIS SIDE.

#bg3 #ascended astarion #dark urge #ascended Astarion analysis #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 spoilers #durgestarion

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iamgodsoopsie · 5 months

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Astarion Headcanons (that you probably won't like) Pt. 3:

Part 1 link

Part 2 link

More Astarion headcanons that are mostly me projecting onto a fictional character to help me process my own trauma!

BG3 does an excellent job at depicting SA trauma and the beginning of the healing process/journey. Many of the headcanons I've seen floating around (intentionally or unintentionally) gloss over the uglier side of healing from (prolonged) trauma. I'm not judging anyone for magically healing him, he's fictional after all, but I'd like to make some more ...realistic... headcanons.

Disclaimer: Everyone's healing process looks different, but they tend share commonalities. These headcanons are based on my own experiences. Not everyone who is healing from their trauma will experience what I have or have experienced it like I have.

[Please don't message me with explicit details about your trauma. I am at the point in my healing journey where I can share my experiences, and commiserate with other's similar experiences, but I am unable to support others in a more personal manner at this time. I wish you the best of luck in your healing process/ journey.]

Spoiler warning

Mental illness, SA, & SH (suicidal ideation) Trigger Warnings: More descriptive and potentially triggering than part 1, but about equal to part 2.

These headcanons are based on an Astarion who is still a spawn and romantically involved with a Tav who honestly loves him and isn't abusive or manipulative. Also Cazador is dead and Astarion got to stab him. They also assume that he himself does not turn into Cazador 2.0 or wish.com Cazador.

Have things been going well for awhile? Is he reclaiming his sexuality at an exponential rate? Does he think he's practically conquered his trauma?

-> If you said 'Yes' to any of the questions above, then be ready for: A trigger he didn't know he had hitting him out of no where and setting his mental health on fire.

->-> If he's at a place in his healing journey that he is able to recognize what happening and use his healthy coping tools/ honest communication to process his unexpected emotional (maybe literal) flashback then it'll be a not fun time for him, but he'll get through it fairly quickly with minimal mental damage.

->->-> If this happens closer to the beginning of his healing journey then be ready for him to spiral and catastrophize. He'll insist that he'll never truly be free of Cazador, that he's broken, that he isn't allowed to be happy, etc. All you can really do during this time is be there for him. Reassure him that you love him and that you believe that he will get better.

->↑ This is a normal part of the healing process, it's shitty and God-awful- but it gets easier to manage and happens less frequently over time.

Even if he weren't an immortal vampire he's still a high-elf and will probably outlive you. And boy oh boy the pressure he's going to put himself under to hurry up and heal is going to be immense AND counterproductive!

-> Poor bby is terrified that he'll finally be happy only for it to be ripped away from him.

->-> Him rushing his healing will only make it harder for him to heal, and he knows this. But Gods damn it all he can't seem to shake the feeling that he's running out of time (okay Hamilton).

->->-> I gotta be honest, I have no fucking clue how to help him with this. I suppose that the only thing you can do is love him with the time ya'll have.

->->->-> TBH I can see him deciding that he'll KHS when you die. I know you have the best intentions, but asking him to live for you after your gone will (probably) be perceived as very manipulative.

->↑ I honestly don't think ya'll are going to come to an agreement on this if you're vehemently against the notion. It may be best to make your preference known and then leave the topic alone- as pressing it will only cause him to double down. (After 200 years of not being allowed to make any decisions for himself, he's not going to let anyone tell him how to 'live' or die).

Surviving "200 years of shit, PURE. SHIT!" had to have been exhausting. And healing from trauma is exhausting. All Astarion wants to do is rest but he feels that he can't truly rest until he heals from his trauma and he's so damn tired and has to keep dealing with this shit and he really wants to give up somedays but he'll be damned if he lets Cazador 'win'.

->↑ Healing is hard work. But it is so damn worth it.

I'll go back and edit any grammar and spelling mistakes later, but I'd really like to post this now.

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wheretheharekissesthefox · 1 month

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Mirror, Mirror

Astarion's a vampire spawn and hasn't seen his reflection in two hundred years. And suddenly, he's facing a doppelgänger – and is stunned.

Trigger warning: slight angst, the feels, fluff, canon-typical violence, character study, emotional rollercoaster, talking it out, no sex

I just wanted to write something sweet and wholesome, and finally address the missed opportunities in the game where Spawn!Astarion could comment on his look, or something could be done to show him how he looks like (e.g. the painter at Waukeen's Rest, the doppelgänger in Shar's Gauntlet, the marble statue that can be bought at the circus, missed opportunity to give a Bard-Tav the option to draw Astarion, or for Sorcerer/Wizard-Tav & Gale to cast mirror image for him, make Orin turn into him while he's there, for e.g. before fighting her in the Bhaal temple, and then he could comment on it after defeating her, etc.). C'mon, Larian! You're so detailed otherwise!

Also, it's my birthday month, so I decided to spoil you all with a couple more fics than usual. Enjoy :)

The air in the Gauntlet of Shar was cold and heavy, smelling nauseatingly strongly of frankincense. Astarion couldn't help but wrinkle his nose, willing himself consciously to stop breathing. Nevertheless, the smell of Shadowheart's blood wafted over to him as she let it drip into the offering bowl for her goddess.

Shar... Astarion snorted. He didn't understand the cleric's blind devotion to the Lady of Loss. No deity cares about lowly creatures like dwarves, elves, halflings, humans, and tieflings. All they do, is demand loyalty and sacrifices, but show neither help nor mercy in return.

Irritated, Astarion glared at Shadowheart again and then at Gale. The cleric with amnesia and the wizard with a magical time bomb stuck in his chest. Great. Just great. Where were their gods now?

The vampire spawn sneered at his own thought, instinctively baring his sharp fangs at imaginary enemies. Tav shot him a questioning look. He just shrugged with a blasé attitude. Still, Astarion followed her, Shadowheart, and Gale into the room to face the last of Shar's trials with them. As soon as they'd entered, iridescent clouds appeared in front of them and started taking shapes.

"Doppelgänger!" Tav shouted, raising her shortsword against her double.

Immediately, a fight broke out. The bard spewed vicious insults and attacked with her blade, while the wizard cast fireballs and magic missiles, and the cleric swung her mace. The vampire spawn, however, was frozen in place, staring at the pale elf in front of him.

That's me, he realised, almost shocked, as he kept staring in disbelief.

The man who faced him was lithe and slender, holding himself in an elegant but slightly haughty way, even in his battle stance. There was a mocking sneer on his oval face, pearly white fangs glinting in the sickening purple light. The ruby red eyes flashed with hatred and anger. The white curls were perfectly styled and beautifully settled around his face and pointy ears.

Scary, Astarion thought. Uninviting. But at the same time... tempting. Beautiful. Compelling. Irresistible.

He frowned. Did he really look like this? Were his smile lines really that prominent? Was he truly –

The vampire spawn's whirling thoughts came to an abrupt stop when his doppelgänger leapt forwards and buried the dagger in his chest. Astarion doubled over, gasping in pain and surprise, as he kept staring at his mirror image.

It had been two hundred years since he'd last seen himself. It had been so long, he'd forgotten how his own face looked like. He'd been longing for this moment.

"Astarion!" Tav cried from somewhere. He had no idea where she was, too disoriented by the pain and too distracted by his own image.

His doppelgänger smirked at him, twirling the dagger between the slender fingers. Show-off.

Gale appeared behind that thing that wore Astarion's face and hit it with a Shocking Grasp. The vampire spawn saw his own pretty face twist into a grimace before it dropped to its knees. Gale attempted another spell, taking a breath to cast it, when, suddenly, he gasped instead and almost keeled over.

"Gods!" he groaned as he pressed a hand to his chest. Bright purple light flashed between his fingers and Gale yelled, pained. Shar's dark chuckle echoed across the room, reminding them all that they're only allowed to attack their own doppelgänger and not those of others. And now, the wizard paid the price for his kind-heartedness. Astarion felt a bit bad for him.

The incident had shaken him out of his frozen position though, allowing the vampire spawn to smoothly slit his double's throat. The thing wearing his face disappeared and Astarion was almost sad about it. The sharp pain in his chest reminded him of the injury and he winced. Nevertheless, he turned to check on Gale. Tav kneeled next to the wizard, her hand pressed onto his chest. She was pacifying the orb with a magical artefact. Gale was breathing heavily, with a scrunched up face, clearly in pain and trying to regain mental calmness to keep that damn orb from erupting. Although it wasn't directed at him, Tav's gentle humming had a soothing effect on Astarion. The latter sighed and lifted his palm from the wound on his chest. Thanks to his vampiric traits, it had already started to heal. Astarion was still grateful that Shadowheart blessed him with a healing spell.

As they left the hall – Tav supporting Gale who's legs were still shaky – the vampire spawn said: "Thank you, Gale. For helping me. It was very... kind."

The addressed gave him a tired smile.

"You're welcome, Astarion. That's what companions are for."

"Right," the vampire spawn muttered. "Companions."

The word 'friends' hung in the air unspoken.

The group made their way back to camp. Nobody mentioned Astarion's unprofessional slip-up. They all knew why it had happened.

The vampire spawn spent the entire night trying to remember every single, little detail of that creature's – his – face. The memory was already slipping again and Astarion mourned the loss of it for the second time in his life.

It had been almost seven years since then, and much had changed.

The Shadow-Curse was lifted, Cazador was dead, and Astarion lived in Waterdeep with his wife – Tav – and his husband – Gale – and their dear friend Shadowheart – who's married to Tav –, working as a tailor.

Astarion was still a vampire spawn, but thanks to Tav's generous gift, a Sun-Walker ring, he wasn't restricted in his activities. The only thing was... He still had no reflection.

Sometimes, he longed to see himself in a mirror, longed for a bit of vanity bestowed by a mirror. But Astarion could manage. After more than two hundred years, he was a pro in styling himself blindly and without any help. He knew he was perfect – and eternally beautiful. Still... Some days, it just hit him and he felt melancholic. Today was one of those days.

Astarion sighed again as he stared into the mirror next to his work desk. No reflection. But the baby blue dress in his lap looked gorgeous, of course. The vampire spawn turned towards the approaching footsteps and shortly after, Gale appeared at the stairhead.

"Hello, darling." Astarion couldn't prevent the smile from spreading across his face. "Need something?"

The addressed chuckled, replying: "Shouldn't that be my line? I simply felt the need to check on you and to make sure you're alright. It's been hours since I've last seen you."

Astarion laughed and cooed teasingly. He adored this ridiculous, nerdy, infuriating wizard.

"Look at you! As soon as I'm busy for a few hours, you start to worry, but woe betide me for the same behaviour when it comes to you. Do you see the irony, darling?"

"Hm. Yes." Gale frowned. "I don't like it."

Astarion snickered gleefully and placed the dress he'd been working on on the table. He sauntered over to his husband now, hips swaying and predatory smile in place. He leaned in to steal a passionate kiss. Gale was more than willing to provide, sighing happily and running his fingers through the vampire spawn's hair. But when they parted, he frowned again.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Don't worry, darling."

"Your face tells a different story."

Astarion gasped in mock-offence.

"Don't you dare! My face is perfect!"

"Naturally, but you –"

"What's wrong with my face?!"

"Well, firstly, you –"

"No, don't tell me!" Astarion waved about with his hand hastily. "Just tell me I'm beautiful."

The wizard sighed deeply, but he complied.

"It's a good face. You're beautiful, Astarion. But you look sad. I'm not as well-versed at reading your body language as Tav, and without the mental tadpole-link connection or a 'Detect Thoughts' spell I'm hamstrung. I don’t know what’s wrong, and if you don't tell me, I can't help you and I don't know what to do." Gale looked at his lover beseechingly. "Please, Astarion, tell me what's on your mind and how I can help you."

The addressed stayed quiet for a while, then, he sighed.

"It's nothing really. It's... It's stupid."

"It can't be 'nothing' if it's on your mind for so long," Gale replied, ever helpful. It made Astarion smile and gave him the courage to finally tell the truth.

"I want to see my face. I miss my reflection."

"Oh." Gale blinked at him. "Why didn't you just say so? I can cast a mirror image for you immediately."

He raised his arms, the magic words already forming on his tongue.

"No!"

Astarion slapped a hand over the wizard's mouth and grabbed his arm with the other.

"I'm – I'm not ready yet. I – I'm scared" he admitted, ashamed.

Gale gently removed his husband's hand from his mouth and kissed his knuckles before letting go of it and asking: "Why are you scared?"

"What if –" Astarion huffed, irritated at himself. "What if I don't like what I see? What if the man in the mirror's nothing like I remember him? I'm undead for over two hundred years and I've changed. Not only to the better, I must admit. There's almost nothing left of Astarion Ancunin, Baldurian magistrate, and heir of the Ancunin family. I'm... different now."

He stared at the floor with tears of anger in the corners of his eyes.

"Astarion." Gale stroke a thumb across the elf's cheek. "My dear." The wizard smiled. "You're my husband and I dare to argue that I know you rather well. You're wonderful, Astarion. A good person with a kind heart –" The vampire spawn made a face at that and Gale chuckled before he continued. "– a gracious lover, an excellent husband, an elegant elf, and... a beautifully scary vampire."

"I'm a spawn," countered Astarion on autopilot and Gale chuckled again.

"Apologies, my dear. You're a beautifully scary vampire spawn. And I love you oh so much."

Astarion swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over.

"I love you too," he croaked out.

The wizard brushed a white curl behind the elf's ear before kissing his forehead. The latter closed his eyes. He was still reeling from the fact that his spouses were so gentle with him. He'd been deprived from tenderness for so long that it had started to scare him. He's gotten better about that though.

Astarion opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and said: "I'm ready. Show me."

Gale gave him a nod and cast a mirror image. The vampire spawn gasped and stared. And stared and stared. So, that was him. Astarion. The pale elf. The free vampire spawn. Husband of Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep and Tav Sionnach. Fascinating.

Astarion circled around the image, taking everything in. It felt odd. Wrong somehow. He wrinkled his nose.

"Hm."

"What is it?"

"Oh, I don't know. It feels much less exciting than back at Shar's temple when we'd fought our doppelgänger. It's less of a shock too. And somehow –" Astarion turned around to look at Gale "– somehow, I don't feel the need to see myself anymore."

"Oh?" Gale looked surprised. "But I thought –"

"Yes, darling, me too. But it seems like it doesn't make me happier to be able to look at my face. After all –" The vampire spawn grinned, flashing all his teeth. " – I know I'm beautiful."

The wizard laughed, loud and genuine, and Astarion joined him. Gale's concentration waned and the mirror image disappeared. The vampire spawn wrapped his arms around his husband's neck and smiled.

"Thank you, my love. For indulging me."

"Always," answered the wizard truthfully.

Their kiss was sweet and slow. Something to savour and to remember. When they're resting their foreheads together, Astarion whispered: "Just be my mirror for me, will you?"

Smiling, Gale hummed.

"I will."

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #shadowheart #tav

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thechaoticdruid · 6 months

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[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant] (2)

Astarion(s) x Tav

Plot: Tav has been kidnapped by The Vampire Ascendant. The Spawn rushes back to regroup with the rest of their band of weirdos in order to plan a rescue!

Content Warning: 18+, Ascended Astarion, sexual content, toxic relationships, violence, blood, physical abuse, death, AA is a bit of a yandere, but I mean you probably already knew that, characters may be ooc, grammar/spelling mistakes are possible, threats of harm, 2 Tavs, Male and female.

Part 1: Right here

Part 2: We're here

Part 3: This waaay!

[Savegame 2: About a month after the defeat of the Elderbrain.]

Tav walked into the brothel, hugging himself with his arms as his ruby colored eyes flicked back and forth around the room nervously. The robe he wore while indeed quite useful revealed far too much of his thighs for the young man’s liking.

“Something troubling you, little love?” His partner smiled, looping his arm around the shorter male’s waist.

“I’m fine…I just….feel a bit exposed…” Tav shivered a bit. Though it was his own idea to put on this accursed robe to delight his partner for their night out he was now realizing he maybe had been in over his head.

“Don’t you worry, my treasure. If anyone lays a hand on you without my permission I'll rip out their throat.” Astarion tugged the spawn against his form before planting a slightly aggressive kiss upon Tav’s cheek. Tav gave a small smile and leaned into Astarion's embrace before the two of them headed upstairs.

“Well aren't you a beautiful little lady.~” A tall and slightly drunk sounding half-orc stumbled across the room as he looked Tav over with a lustful gaze.

“LADY!?” All of Tav's bashfulness faded away as his expression turned to anger. His fangs were bared and his fists were clenched. “I'm a boy- er..man! I'm a man!” Tav huffed out with a wolf-like growl.

The half-orc blinked a bit, looking Tav over. Tav's androgynous looking appearance was confusing the brothel goer. His soft facial features and long eyelashes did make him look rather feminine. That along with his short stature and current attire definitely did not help.

“But you're so pretty," the half-orc said, his words slurring as he took a step closer towards the short vampire spawn. "You look like a woman to me.”

Astarion watched as his little spawn shook with rage.

“Oh dear.” He sighed, looking down at his nails for a moment as his pet proceeded to stomp towards the much larger male. Astarion's little love did have quite the vicious temper at times.

He raised one clawed finger after another counting.

One. Two. Three.

The sound of a scuffle could be heard, followed by crashing and wolf growls all the while the vampire lord started looking over his nails. A slightly off key hum leaving his lips as a few screams from the half-orc were heard.

After a few moments there was a thudd before Tav walked back over towards his lover.

“Sorry, I may have got a little distracted.” Tav rubbed the back of his head. An unconscious and severely bruised body laid behind him.

“I'm a little disappointed you left him alive, but I am eager to get on with tonight's main event so let's not waste anymore time.” Astarion held out his hand allowing his lover to take it before the two of them continued up another set of stairs. Tav's little scene had caused a few heads to turn though no one dared to get involved.

They entered a dark room on the top floor. The sweet scent of lavender hit Tav's senses as he and Astarion entered the room.

“Back again already?” A seductive voice rang out.

A female drow stepped out and wrapped her arms around Tav just as a second male drow moved in and did the same to Astarion. “Did you miss us that badly?” The male purred. Tav's shivered a bit before he looked down at his feet.

“How could we not? The service last time was….mouthwatering.~” Astarion turned to face the drow behind him, “wasn't it my treasure?”

“Ah….y-yes….it was really nice..” Tav stuttered, if he could still blush his face would be on fire right now. He bit his lip, his left fang drawing blood.

“Perhaps we should continue on from last time then?” The female drow said, lips dangerously close to Tav's ear.

~~~

Nearly thirty minutes had passed. Lustful cries and groans echoed throughout the room. Once everyone was spent, Tav found himself snuggled up in his master's lap, his head pressed against his chest as he listened to Astarion's heartbeat.

It was strange to think that not too long ago these roles had been reversed. The sound was comforting even if the person it came from became less and less so these days.

“Pet.” Astarion spoke quietly as he noticed the two courtesans had drifted off into a slumber.

“Yes?” Tav glanced upwards.

“You haven't fed in three days.”

“I'm not hungry…” Tav lied, he could feel the gaping maw deep inside him crying out as they spoke, but he did his damndest to ignore it. He'd only ever really allowed himself to feed from Astarion since his turning, which did not happen often. ‘Too much may drive you mad.’

His master would say. Perhaps that was possible, but he knew it was more likely that Astarion didn't want to risk giving him his freedom back.

“What have I said about lying to me?” Astarion gripped his spawn’s face, pinching Tav's cheeks between two fingers and making him return his gaze.

“I'm sorry.” Tav replied.

Astarion thought for a moment before glancing over at the sleeping bodies besides. Tav's eyes widened in surprise. “No, Astarion, please don't make me-”

“Feed,” was all his master said, glowing red eyes bore into his soul before his body began to react on its own. He moved over to the male drow slowly, his teeth grit together and deep inside feelings of utter disgust and pure delight waged war against one another. Shakily Tav placed a clawed hand over the male and turned him so that his neck was exposed. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the grey skinned male’s jugular, his tongue instinctively flicked over his fangs.

Finally he bit down, sinking his fangs into the mortal’s flesh. Warm blood dripped onto his tongue, sending a feeling of euphoria coursing through his body. Tav moaned barely even noticing his master petting his head before Astarion sank his own fangs into the female drow, not wasting a second to begin feasting upon her life force. It only took a few moments before both courtesans were sucked dry. Tav breathed out heavily, blood dripped down his chin, his hands shook as he looked down at the lifeless body in front of him. They didn't need to die. They had never done anything wrong to him. This was sickening.

“That's a good boy.” Astarion's voice rang out, breaking Tav from his trance. “Now come here.~”

The Vampire Lord pulled his spawn back into his lap, possessively draping his arms around him before locking their lips. Tav hesitantly returns the kiss allowing his master's tongue inside to claim and dominate his mouth. “Mmm…” Tav moaned, feeling Astarion pull him flush against his bare body, leaving no space between them as blood and saliva mixed. The spawn wrapped his arms around his master's neck feeling Astarion's nails dig into his back slightly. The vampire lord pulled back a bit, taking in a breath of air before forcing his tongue back into Tav's mouth, his hands gripping his ass as he began to grind against him.

Feelings of guilt and shame were forgotten for now as Tav allowed himself to become lost in his master.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Savegame 1: Act 3, lower city.]

The silver haired vampire spawn jerked out of the way as his companion’s undead counterpart lunged at him quickly with her spear. Halsin dropped to all fours, quickly wild-shaping into a bear with glowing red eyes.

“Shit.” The high elf cursed. His arm was still bleeding badly so using his bow likely wouldn't do him any favors. He needed to get away and find his companions. Quickly he reached into his pack and tossed out a vial of acid onto the ground in front of the spawn versions of his friends before he turned and made a dash for it.

He needed to get back to the others, have Shadowheart heal his arm and then force Gale to come up with a plan on how to rescue Tav. Astarion didn't want to think about what his counterpart might do to her. It still made him sick thinking about what that other version of himself had become. Treating Tav like she was just some object he could take! And what had happened to the others. Turning them into tools to be used it all hit far too close to home for him. It reminded him too much of Cazador…

Astarion wasn't really sure when he stepped through the Elfsong’s doors, or if he had been able to successfully shake off the other spawn.

Everything had just kind of faded away for a while, leaving only his fears of what could possibly happen to Tav. He knew she was strong, but this was different. She'd be up against a foe with the power of seven thousand souls, all on her own.

“Astarion? Hells, what happened to you!?” Wyll’s voice brought him back to reality as he stumbled into the room where the others had been. Most of them were relaxing or fast asleep.

The blood from his wound dripped down onto the floor, building into a small puddle at his feet.

“Tav's gone!” Was all he needed to say to get everyone’s attention. Shadowheart swiftly healed his wound as Astarion began to catch everyone up on the current situation. He attempted to explain what had transpired to the best of his abilities, making sure not to leave out any important details.

“So you're saying Tav has been kidnapped by an another version of yourself from an alternate reality, who apparently went through the rite of profane ascension. Fascinating, but if what you say is true he must have immeasurable power. The ability to traverse time and space itself is no small feat.” Gale exclaimed, his face full of intrigue. “This is truly astonishing.”

Astarion glared at him slightly, a little annoyed the wizard seemed more concerned with how his counterpart got here than the fact that he fucking kidnapped Tav!

“Need I remind you that our leader has been taken!?” The vampire growled.

“How am I not surprised there's an evil version of you who turned us all into slaves.” Shadowheart sighed and crossed her arms.

“I think you mean eviler version.” Gale added.

“Arghh! Why are we sitting around talking!? We need to get out of here and go save Tav, damnit!!” Karlach shouted.

“Patience Karlach. We need to think of a plan first.” Wyll stepped in as he noticed the Tiefling was starting to heat up, steam coming off her body.

“If I remember my studies, true vampires can become alarmingly possessive of their paramours. He’ll likely be prepared to slaughter us all in order to keep Tav. That being said, it's also very likely he won't harm her.” Gale said, glancing over at Astarion who bore a very grim expression.

“You don't know that.” The silver haired elf replied with a fearful look in his eyes. An intense worry was practically eating him alive from the inside. It's like fear was gnawing and tearing at his innards.

“We will get her back, Astarion. I promise you.” Karlach said in an attempt to comfort him.

“Worry not my fanged friend. If we're lucky Tav will likely have rescued herself by the time we find her. She's very resourceful.” Wyll said, placing his hand on the elf's shoulder.

“Yes, our Tav does have a way of giving arrogant foes a run for their money. Still it would be best that we're there to back her up and to do that we need to find her.” Gale thought for a moment before looking back at the vampire spawn.

“Astarion, it's your counterpart we'll be looking for. Think carefully, where would you have taken Tav?”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Savegame 1: Act 3, Crimson Palace]

The Vampire Ascendant looked down at the human female as she twiddled her finger and stared at her hands. He was looking at her with what she could assume was admiration? Lust? Hunger? Hard to tell honestly. This ‘living vampire’ somehow seemed even less alive than her undead partner.

“So uh…. What the hells is up with the collar? This some kind of kink?” Tav asked, tugging on the neck piece around her throat.

“How naughty,” Astarion chuckled. “No, my dear, this is simply a precaution. To keep you from hurting yourself.” A far too perfect smile spread across the Ascendant's face as he reached out to caress Tav's cheek with a clawed finger. She shivered though she wasn't sure if it was in disgust or not.

“More like keep me from hurting you…” Tav growled under her breath.

“Careful love,” Astarion gripped her chin and made her look up at him,”while I may adore you, I certainly have no qualms with punishing my precious pet.” Tav opened her mouth for a moment before soon closing it. He had this look in his eyes that frightened her. With this damn silencing collar she had barely any way of defending herself. So for now she had to be careful.

Satisfied with her submission the vampire lord placed a rough kiss on her forehead.

“Good girl.You'll come to love your place at my side in time, I'm sure.” Astarion ruffled her hair, petting her head as if she were a dog.

“Are you going to make me a spawn then?” Tav asked, glaring up at his hand as she contemplated biting off his fingers.

“In time…We are going to do things a little differently than before. For now I still have a few obstacles to handle. Disposing of any rivals and taking care of that pesky brain.” Astarion said, continuing to pet her head.

“Wait a minute. You're not going to take me back to your own timeline?” Tav asked in confusion. Astarion’s hand retreated from her hair, his face hardened a bit.

“There's nothing else left for us there now. Trust me.” He turned away before suddenly looking up and noticing a figure walk inside. Tav’s eyes quickly scanned the person recognizing them as her wizard companion Gale, but like Lae'zel his eyes were a bright glowing red.

Gods. Has he turned all of them?

Tav thought to herself, clenching her fists. It was hard to believe in another time, another life he'd done this. Enslaving the very people who helped him achieve his freedom. She wondered exactly what happened to her own counterpart. From how Astarion spoke about him it was quite clear to her that he was no longer alive. Possibly killed judging from how the vampire lord had mentioned that he was taken from him.

“My lord, Halsin and Shadowheart have returned. The sunrise drove them back to the palace.” Gale announced, quickly walking over and kneeling before the Ascendant.

“And what about my spawn self?”

“He escaped.” As Gale said that, a heavy weight left Tav’s chest. Her lover was alive at least. He'd likely have gone back to the others to plan a rescue. Hopefully they'd be able to find her location.

“Send them in here.” Astarion said coldly.

The room went silent as the wizard walked out. Tav glancing back and forth, her mind telling to run, sprint out of here and grab anything she could use as a weapon, but she knew either Astarion or Lae'zel would corner her in an instant and without her magic, without her blades, without her beastly form she was no match for them. She was helpless and absolutely despised it. Falling into the role of a captured damsel in distress made her blood boil.

The large doors to the ballroom swung open, Halsin and Shadowheart slowly walked, looking a little singed from the morning sun.

“Why the hells did you let him escape!?”

Both of them knelt down before him.

“Forgive us. We underestimated him, master.” Shadowheart said.

“You were supposed to finish him off then and there! Now he's likely to bring the others with him.”

“Let us wait it out until sunset. If you send the four of us next time we can dispatch all of them.”

“They could very well be here before then, you idiot!” Astarion took hold of Shadowheart’s throat, lifting his spawn off the ground and tightening his hand around her neck. Tav's face went pale, a look of utter shock and horror was in her eyes. The fact that this wasn't the same Shadowheart she'd been traveling with didn't even register. All she knew at this moment was that her friend was being choked to death.

“Shadowheart!”She shouted.

“Master please!” Halsin begged.

“Honestly I should just throw you both back outside to burn in the sun, but perhaps spending a few weeks impaled may be better motivation not to fail me next time.” Astarion spoke through gritted teeth, his claws now digging into the half-elf’s flesh, drawing blood.

“Astarion stop!” Tav suddenly ran over and grabbed his arm. The vampire lord almost immediately snapped his head around to look at her, brows furrowed and fangs bared. He looked absolutely feral, like he was ready to bite her head off. Literally. But before he had the chance to snarl out a response Tav dropped to her knees, clutching his shirt as she began to beg.

“Please. Don't hurt them. Please! I'll….I'll do whatever you want….” Tears slowly formed in the corners of her eyes as she stared up at him.

Slowly his eyes softened as he looked back at her. He released the cleric, dropping her to the ground. Shadowheart fell to her knees, hands immediately moving up to sooth her bruised and bleeding throat as she began coughing up a little blood.

Astarion sighed, “looks like I'll have to call some wolves to make up for your failure. In the meantime… Gale! Make sure all the entrances are magically barred. I don't want anyone interrupting me and my pet! We have some catching up to do.” Tav then felt herself be pulled up off the ground, immediately being wrapped up in the Ascendant's embrace.

~~~

He was rather unpredictable, this Vampire Ascendant. Tav felt as if she was walking on eggshells while she was within his presence.

However on the brightside he seemed carelessly arrogant. He'd summoned some wolves to patrol and guard his palace instead of simply going after the threat himself. Maybe deep down he didn't think he'd be able to defeat them alone? Or maybe he saw them as not worth his time? He’d most likely claim the job was beneath him anyway. Regardless, Tav's escape was still a priority. She needed to find some way to get this collar or arm herself with a weapon.

Tav sat beside him on a fine silk sofa. The study was warmed cozily by the flames of a fireplace. There were no windows, but plenty of candles were set to keep the room illuminated. Astarion’s arm was draped around her as his eyes trailed over her face. She couldn't help but squirm and recoil from his touch. This was not her lover, no matter how much he looked, sounded or even behaved like him at times.

“You don't need to be afraid of me, my treasure. I only want to keep you safe.” His tone was soft, gentle even, but Tav knew better. Most of what left his mouth had to be complete and utter horseshit!

Oh so that's why you kidnapped me, threatened me, and left me completely powerless? Yes! That makes soooo much sense!

Abigail walked into the room, carrying a large tray in her arms. She set it down on a table in front of them before slowly stepping away and exiting.

“Here, I made sure to get your favorite.” Astarion ran a hand over her shoulder affectionately as Tav looked over noticing a large bottle of port and and plate of fine cheeses.

Damnit. He knows my weakness.

Tav stared down at the tray, biting down on her lip as her mouth watered a bit. Tav grabbed hold of a piece of cheese and slowly nibbled away on it before downing it with some of the port.

Her eyes were still shooting daggers at the vampire. She then sighed before calming down a little.

“What do you plan on doing with me after all this is over, my lord?” She said, taking another swing of port.

“Hmm…While I do think that you would make a beautiful little spawn I intend to savor this…Warm body for a while yet.” He purred, running a hand over her thigh. Tav shivered, then something caught her eye. On an end table beside the sofa laid a peculiar looking comb. It appeared to be wooden with a rather sharp pointy end. An idea began to form in her mind, but she needed to be careful and wait for the right moment.

“Why wait on turning me? You have me right here…Right where you want me after all.” Tav took another drink. Perhaps if he were to believe she were a bit more careless due to drink this could work.

“Lets just say I have my reasons and leave it at that dear.” He said before taking the bottle from her hand and drinking some himself. Tav swung a leg over his lap, trying to appear a bit more relaxed. “You're still going to become my consort however, once we destroy the brain everything will be as it was. We'll be together for good this time. Forever.” Astarion smiled softly before placing a hand on Tav's cheek staring into her eyes longingly.

Star…..Please forgive me….

Tav leaned in slowly, placing her hands on his chest before closing the gap between him, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. His arms almost immediately wrapped around her caressing her form as his tongue snuck it's way into her mouth.

Tav fell back against the couch, allowing him to pin her down. His knee parted her legs as he slowly began to grind himself into her.

Tav pulled back a bit for air, immediately seeing the dazed look in his eyes.

“It's been far too long since I've tasted you.” He panted, a lustful grin on his face. Tav tilted her head baring her neck before him. Astarion didn't even hesitate before biting down into it.

“A-Ah….” Tav gasped, fingers clawing at his clothes as she felt the pain of his bite. She waited till he began to suckle on her neck, allowing him to be intoxicated by her blood before she made her move. Her hand quickly reached out for the wooden comb....

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~

Note from ChaoticDruid: PART TWO LETS GO!!!

Because part one did so well I decided to continue it. As of right now I can only see this going to maybe five parts max. Also sorry for the cliff hanger but I thought it would be a good spot to end on. I'm totally surprised some of y'all were actually feeling bad for AA last chapter, but I guess somehow I made him actually sympathetic.

I plan to dive more into AA and M!Tav’s past in the next chapter and also give a little insight to my original character Abigail.

Oh and in case anyone was wondering Savegame 2 Wyll and Karlach are not Vampire Spawns. They left to go to Hells and avoided it all together. Karlach canonly cannot be turned into a vampire so yeah….

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roguishcat · 2 months

Text

Conversations with a vampire - part 4/10

Summary: A story told through a series of conversations between Astarion and child Tav, tracing the slow and steady progress of trust and friendship.

Humor/Friendship/Angst

Rating: Teen. Mild language, mentions of abuse in later chapters, some violence.

Setting: Set before the events of the game.

There was a chill in the air and evenings were turning colder, seasons changing with slow grace, first leaves falling and scattering on the ground in a multitude of colors. Astarion started wearing his doublet more, his usual shirt being too light for this time of the year. That is, it would be if he could feel the cold. He supposed that was one of the few perks of his current state.

Tav was autumn personified, wearing an ankle-length coat in shades of bright amber with a brown fur collar which she left unbuttoned, revealing a shirt and trouser ensemble of a lighter shade that matched her leather boots. Her hair was in a low braid with shimmering golden threads woven along the tresses.

“You know, it’s the first time I see you wearing something other than that frilly shirt,” she commented, throwing a pretty sparkly ring into the air, and snatching it quickly before the trinket hit the ground. “You look nice.”

“Well thank you, not that your opinion was wanted or needed,” Astarion rolled his eyes. He didn’t need Tav to know he looked good, though he didn’t mind being admired by all. The doublet was beautiful, although the golden embroidery was a pain to look after. Not all his conquest were gentle when handling him and his clothes had a fair share of wear and tear. He took care of the little he had meticulously and carefully, as Cazador did not see it fit to give the spawn any more than bare minimum.

Yet, flattery would really get people everywhere and his mood was decidedly better now than it was before he set out for the night. Thus, assured of his good looks, Astarion strolled down the street with unhurried steps, keen eyes observing those he passed by. They passed the potion shop and were nearing Wyrm’s Rock. There were more people around for this time of night and not the usual crowd too. Families, children, young couples, their excitement for the fireworks display in celebration of the grand re-opening of Felogyr's Fireworks so palpable he could almost taste it.

“I just don’t understand why you don’t just come and work in Sharess’ Caress, with your looks you could make tons, tons!” she gesticulated wildly in her excitement to show just how astronomical his earnings would be. “And then you could have everything you wish to have, which whoever it is that you work for doesn’t provide. Mamzell Amira is not exactly nice, but she treats everyone well enough, better than you get treated clearly. I am sure-”

“I don’t need your advice. Or your pity,” he spat, cutting Tav off sharply. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Find another charity case if that’s what you are after.”

Tav frowned but did not flinch or move away. She was used to adults having little patience when dealing with her, perhaps understandably. She did go on and on sometimes. Besides, she had her suspicions about Astarion for a while now, and she knew the defeated look of a person who had no power to make their own choices and hated it. It was useless to pry, for now.

“Sorry, that was wrong of me to say that. It wasn’t meant to be pity. I really do say the dumbest things, don’t I?”

Astarion sighed, a little annoyed at himself for this display of emotion. Yes, she was an insensitive, intrusive little idiot, but she did it out of some feeling of misplaced kindness. And whilst he did not necessarily need her kindness, it was quite refreshing to talk to someone who wanted to converse just for the sake of it.

“Well, I guess it can’t be helped,” he brushed his fingers through his silver curls, “your atrocious lack of manners is especially obvious today, that’s all. You should really work on that.”

“Maybe. But at least I’m trying. Wouldn’t hurt you to be nicer, you know. Once in a while,” Tav said petulantly.

“And it wouldn’t hurt me to be less nice, so your point is moot,” he countered.

“Oooh, someone is in a bad mood. Fine, I’ll shut up,” she huffed and turned away, seemingly determined to show that she was upset.

That lasted for a grand total of two minutes before Tav started fidgeting and shooting furtive looks his way.

“Want me to do your nails then? It is party tonight, after all. I have everything with me. Polishes and all,” she asked hopefully.

Apparently, it was physically impossible for the girl to be quiet.

“No.”

“Aw, come on!” she whined in a most aggravating way. “You have beautiful hands! Like the bard with the lyre that played at Sharess’ the other night.”

“Well, I do know which strings to pluck to make everyone sing for me.”

The innuendo went completely over her head.

“So, is that a yes on the nails?”

“Still no.”

She pouted but did not insist anymore.

“The human delivery boy who brings the groceries to Sharess’ Caress asked me to go watch the fireworks with him tonight.”

“Oh?” He looked at her with his eyebrows raised. “Sounds like somebody’s got a date.”

“Eww, gross” Tav scrunched her nose at the suggestion. “He is a year older, but so juvenile for thirteen,” she said, clearly unimpressed with whatever the boy did to try to get her attention.

“Because clearly you are a picture of wisdom and maturity,” Astarion quipped.

“Well, maybe not,” she agreed, “but kids my age are boring. They see one gash on my leg, perhaps bleeding too much and maybe there was a bit of bone sticking out, I admit, and just faint! Wimps,” she scoffed haughtily.

“Not everyone has the devil-may-care attitude you do, it seems.”

“Exactly! And why would I want to hang out with someone bland and boring like that? They won’t be able to keep up.”

“Which is probably a good thing for them, as they clearly have a sense of self-preservation, and you don’t.”

“Whatever,” she smiled, apparently choosing to take his comment as a compliment. Tav flicked her hair over her shoulder, the golden threads making her blonde hair twinkle as if lit up my magic. “Besides, the fireworks are going to be down by the river, not far from Felogyr's Fireworks. I wouldn’t be able to go even if I wanted to.”

Ah, yes. There was the ever-present issue of her having to traverse these streets over and over again without being able to explore the rest of the city.

“You are not missing out on that much, fireworks are frightfully dull, overrated really,” Astarion said with a longsuffering sigh, as if going to a party was such a chore.

“Yeah, baby stuff,” she looked up, catching on quickly.

“Quite so.”

Her lips quirked into a smile. It was a ghost of her usual enthusiastic grin, but better than nothing.

“Ya know,” Tav looked down, suddenly finding the cobblestones worthy of her attention, “I decided I’m going to marry you when I’m older,” she said in a nonchalant manner.

“Are you now?” he snorted in amusement. “And I suppose you didn’t think to ask my opinion on the matter?”

“Just you wait, I’m going to grow up to be strikingly beautiful. Well, maybe not as beautiful as you”, she sighed, accepting that as a fact of life, “but close enough! And I’m going to save you from your master, because he clearly does not treat you as well as he should, and you will fall hopelessly in love with me!”

“Didn’t you say that this isn’t what you really look like? You might be quite a bland thing. Terrible warts on your nose. Missing teeth, bad breath.”

“Stop it, don’t be horrid!” she laughed. “You are just saying that to be mean.”

He was needling her on purpose, that was true. But Tav could take a joke and wasn’t fishing for praise. It was a nice change of pace when he didn’t have to needlessly stroke someone’s ego and come up with artful, empty compliments. Words were usually just another arrow in his quiver, a tool used for seduction to ensure his survival. It was pleasant to talk to someone just for the sake of it.

“Well, even if I am beastly and ugly, and you will not want to marry me, I hope we can still be friends even many years from now. And I am going to set you free no matter what.”

Set him free, she said. And who was going to set her free before that? Because no matter how negligent her family was, she was being educated, provided for, dressed in the best of the best. One did not just do that out of the goodness of their heart. There had to a purpose for whatever this was.

“Well, that sounds like a plan,” he rolled his eyes. “It may be missing the how and when you are going to best Cazador-”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say his name. The less she knew about him, the better.

“Don’t make fun of me! I may be measly twelve now, but in a few years, I will be old enough to decide my own destiny. One day, I will do something great, really great, and it will change everything.”

“If you say so,” he allowed, relieved that she did not latch onto the name and start asking questions.

The fireworks display started abruptly, painting the sky a myriad of colours. It was obtrusively bright and showy, but seeing all this in his world where colours were muted and dull had a certain appeal.

“Right, whilst you idle away the hours, some of us have things to do, places to be,” he walked off, moving with the crowds that started making their way towards the Lower City.

“Okay,” she ran up to Astarion to hand him a potion, upholding her end of the bargain as usual, “hope your hunt goes well!”

Hunt. Yes, that is exactly what he was doing. And the crowd tonight seemed so ready for the picking, oohing and aahing at the beauty above them, drunk on their excitement and cheap beer. It was almost too easy to engage one, two, three victims in quick succession. Pluck them like ripe fruit, ready to be devoured.

The other spawn quickly caught on to where his hunting grounds were for the night, and he started glimpsing them here and there. Dalyria grasping a tiefling’s chin and bringing his lips closer to her own to whisper something seductively, him following her completely enthralled by whatever she was saying. Petras loudly propositioning a human pair, them laughing and calling him daft, which was obviously not the effect he was going for. Astarion scoffed. Petras was terrible at being suave, he lacked the finesse, the ability to improvise on the spot.

At one point, Astarion had a niggling suspicion at the back of his mind that Tav was watching him from the rooftops, he thought he saw her once or twice. But, when he crossed the bridge yet again and noticed her up on the roof of the potion shop, she was looking at a human family with a wistful expression, the child holding his father’s hand and gesticulating animatedly, clearly excited about being out and about after dark. The mother crouched beside the boy and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, eliciting delighted giggles. Tav scowled and quickly turned, walking away from the edge of the roof and then bleeding into the shadows.

A child without a name, without a family, and without any history. Astarion supposed that she had little in common with children that sought her company, who had the luxury of enjoying the care and love of their parents, or at least were free to come and go as they pleased on a whim.

She was a specter that haunted the streets of the city she could never properly explore. It was little surprise that she identified with him on some level. He was a creature who was a ghost of his former self, who was compelled to act as he was bid. A former elf without a past, a vampire spawn without a future.

@ninty900 @dajeong @ayselluna

#astarion tav fanfiction #fanfic #astarion #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction

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