Hey so you know Aloy from horizon zero dawn? Headcanons for Astarion with a Tav with her pets???
Heyo sorry it took so long! I hope the pets are mostly accurate? If there are any inaccuracies it would be much appreciated should you point them out. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
Astarion likes animals, despite how much he tries to prove otherwise, and the fact that your pets look like animals helps him get over the fact that they are basically machines
He is still a little wary of them, considering how huge they are but you donât seem to mind their size so he trusts them as much as you trust them minus a little bit
He likes to load all his stuff on them on top of the camp supplies they are already carrying, his defence being âthey are meant to carry our things arenât they?â, totally not because heâs feeling lazy
When he gets tired and starts complaining about his feet aching, either Laeâzel or Karlach will throw him onto one of your pets to shut him up (one of the few reasons he tolerates the two)
Your pets are warmer than the usual type of pets the people of Faerun keep, but they are also harder and far less furry, something Astarion constantly weighs in his mind but when you give him a pout upon seeing him move towards Scratch instead of your pets, he relents and cuddles with you and your pets.
He helps you take care of them from time to time, despite all his grumbling (he does it for you, not that heâll ever tell you that)
He quickly picks up on how to properly maintain them which speed up the process, leaving the both of you with more time to spend together relaxing (neither of you mind this)
Because of that, Astarion often uses the excuse of needing to maintain your pets to sneak off with you (the others donât need to know the both of you are done maintaining long before you return to camp)
He will constantly deny it but the first time you offered to ride one of your pets with him, he was rather terrified (he got used to the movements after a while)
He loves watching you care for them, thereâs something about the way you croon over them that makes his heart go warm
When the two of you perform maintainence, sometimes he just gets so lost watching you work that his hands stop moving but he doesnât notice it until you point it out/shake him and he will brush it off with âjust observing how you do itâ or something along those lines
He doesnât like getting dirty doing maintenence but will get slightly dirty just for you
He does get jealous if you spend too much time with them and not enough time with him, but he isnât about to start a fight with a giant mechanical creature so he resorts to staring at you until you turn your attention to him
His favourite dates with you include just riding off on one of your pets together, feeling you pressing against him
He doesnât care where the ride takes the two of you, he just wants to enjoy the wind in his hair and the feeling of you flush against his body (and also he likes the height, not that heâll ever admit it)
Who rides in front depends on his mood, if heâs feeling sentimental or down, he rides behind and vice versa
If he rides behind, he wraps his waist around you tightly and clings onto you like heâs about to fall off at any moment
He also buries his face into your back so that he can feel as much of you as possible
If he rides in front, he likes it when you wrap your arms around his waist, it makes him feel depended upon because heâs the only thing preventing you from falling off
Even better if he can feel your breath against his ears (as long as you remain quiet his ears are sensitive)
Hearing your laughter as the wind whips through your hair is a beautiful melody to his ears, one that he always captures and saves in his memories
He uses your pets to deliver gifts to you from time to time and then pretends like he isnât the gifter but your pets only ever listen to you or himâŠso narrowing down who the gifts came from isnât hardâŠyou do oblige his âignoranceâ however, just to save him some face
Overall, while it may take some time for him to warm up to your pets, he tries his best because of how much you love them and finds his own reasons to love them
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hrm interesting detail time to add that to my fics
Something really cute I just thought about.
Astarion is starstruck by the fact that he has someone that loves him. After spending years being owned and having nothing, he finally has someone he can call his. He's always adding a possessive title onto the pet names he calls the player.
"my love"
"my dear"
"my sweet"
"my darling"
He is elated that he is able to call the player his, and will use every oppertunity to do so and to remind the player that he is theirs completely. There's something very cute and pure about that.
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Hello again! I was the one who requested the flower prompt :D I loved the story so much!! It was so sweet and cute! I loved that they chose a specific, meaningful flower for the crown. đ„° Thank you!
Ahhhhhhhhh glad you loved it!!! Thank you so much for requesting!!!
I went to research for canon flowers and used the closest flowers in real life and their meaning to conjure up a meaning for the canon flowers. Night orchids were the best fit and other flowers didn't exactly have a close enough real life counterpart so...
I'm not sure if there's anywhere to find the meanings for the canon flowers? If anyone knows pls lmk!
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Hello! May I please request #5 âFlowersâ from the prompt list? Thank you! :D
Ayyyyyyy one of my fave prompts from the list! Glad you requested it!!
Summary: You give Astarion a personally handmade flower crown
Each flower has its own unique meaning, though some meanings have been lost to time. Your motherâs voice teaching you the meaning of some flowers has long faded from your memory, a loss you mourn as you scour the markets for books on flowers and their meanings.
You know Astarion isnât one for receiving flowers, but its not the flower you want him to hold dear to his heart, no, itâs the meaning of the flower that you want to imprint into his mind for all eternity.
By a stroke of luck, you find a book detailing the meaning and uses of certain flowers in Faerun hidden away in the corners of a merchantâs store. A quick purchase later and its now permanently in your hands, ready for perusing.
Astarion raises an eyebrow when he sees you sitting in your tent, engrossed in a book instead of sitting with the others around the campfire, unwinding after a long day of adventuring. The others donât seem to mind the missing company, but this is most unusual behaviour from you so Astarion takes it upon himself to investigate this change.
âHello darling, not in the mood for mingling tonight?â He smiles, closing the distance between the two of you. You shift over wordlessly, making space for him and he happily sits down, taking a look at the book youâre reading.
âI had no idea you were into flowers, I thought you were more intoâŠclothes.â
âYou thought wrong, then.â His favourite smile of yours graces your lips as amusement flashes across your face. âIf however it were a book about clothesâŠI could be persuaded to be into clothes.â
Astarion canât help but laugh at your attempt at a sly look and leans in to press a quick peck to your lips. âLeave that kind of talk to me, darling. Youâre positively terrible at it.â
âAt least Iâm not negatively terrible at it.â You shoot back.
Astarion rolls his eyes, half immune to your type of jokes at this point and swipes the book from your lap, curious. Youâre left hugging him from behind as he holds the book out of your reach, reading the page youâre on.
âArenât night orchids our resident clericâs favourite flower?â
âYes, they are.â You rest your chin on his shoulder, still clinging onto him.
âNight orchids are known to symbolise rarity, uniqueness, beauty and spirituality. Who knew her favourite flower represented her so well?â He remarks.
âThey also represent someone else very well.â You mumble into his back sheepishly. Astarion hums in response, closing the book after placing a bookmark in it for you and turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
âYes, Star?â You ask.
Astarion buries his face into your hair, letting out a soft breath that ruffles the strands on the top of your head, causing you to smile softly and reach upwards to run your fingers through his hair. A quiet purr rumbles in his throat as he leans into your touch, enjoying the attention youâre lavishing upon him instead of the book. You indulge him, knowing nights like this where youâre not needed by anyone else are few and far between. Astarion curls his fingers around yours, enjoying the way your hand neatly slots into his as if they were made for each other. Maybe they were, maybe you were always meant for him and vice versa. He quite likes that thought.
You play with a few strands of his silver hair, twirling them around a finger. âA flower wreath would look really nice on you.â
âWould it now?â Astarion would really rather you remain here until dawn breaks instead of going out to pick flowers, even if they are for him.
âIt would. You will look really pretty with one sitting on your head like a crown.â You draw a ghostly circle around his head, mirroring where the flower wreath would sit before clapping your hands together. âThat settles it! Iâll make you one!â
Astarion quickly moves to grab your arm, eyes wide as his mouth moves to convince you to stay, to not leave him yet. Heâs ready to beg you to remain by his side for what remains of the night, afraid that someone might steal you away from him but you havenât moved an inch from your spot.
âI still donât know what flower to use,â you chuckle. âGuess Iâll have to stay here for the rest of the night, hope you donât mind.â
âNo, of course not, darling.â He swallows, shoving his embarrassment to the back of his mind. You lean against his chest, book tossed aside in favour of your lover and inhale his scent, blissfully snuggling against him. He holds you close, tracing patterns on your exposed skin until you fall asleep and he tucks you into your bedroll, pressing a kiss to your forehead and sneaks out of your tent, but not before wishing you a quiet goodnight that youâre far too deep in sleep to hear.
The matter of the flower crown gets pushed to the back of your mind and out of Astarionâs head in favour of more pressing matters as your party journeys on until you stumble upon the cave Shadowheart once lived in deep in the underground Sharran temple.
While the others search the cave for loot or lost childhood memories, a certain plant catches your eye â night orchids. You go about picking them, counting how many you would need for a flower crown that would fit Astarionâs head and are relieved to find there are sufficient night orchids in the cave for your endeavour. Stashing them safely in your pouch, you turn to gather the others and head off to the Sharran dorms for some much needed rest whilst letting Shadowheart take back as much of her lost memories as possible. She deserved that, at least, for all sheâd been through.
You claim the bed closest to the back corner of the room and begin work, praying that you remember how to make a flower crown and fortunately, muscle memory saves the day as your fingers weave flower after flower into a circular shape. Itâs not the best looking flower crown youâve ever made, being out of practice, but itâs certainly passable. You turn the delicate object in your hands, checking it over before glancing upwards. Astarion was arguing with Wyll about the bottle of wine he definitely stole despite his claims of innocence and the others were enjoying the show, save for Gale who was cooking tonightâs dinner.
Slipping out of your bed, you sneak over to Astarionâs bed to deliver the goods before walking up to the group as if nothing happened, breaking up the fight that was escalating with the announcement of food.
When Astarion throws back the covers to lie down, he finds a flower crown sitting atop a book he remembers seeing you read before and stares at them, resisting the urge to throw the covers up again to remove the illusion. Surely he was hallucinating or something, no one would deign to personally handcraft something so beautiful and delicate just for him. Or maybe the giver had placed them on the wrong bed, any of the others maybe except for Laeâzel would appreciate such a gift.
âDo you like it?â Your voice sounds behind him. He turns around, nearly dropping the blanket on the flower crown.
âItâs for me?â He asks, confused.
âYeah. Itâs on your bed, is it not? Did I make a mistake?â You frown.
âNo, you placed it on my bed.â Had you made the flower crown for him? Why did you spend such precious time and effort on him? The thing of beauty was wasted on someone like him, it would have been better off in the hands of anyone else, even Karlach despite her probably reducing it to cinders before it could properly rest on her head.
âThatâs a relief. I thought I had the wrong bed for a moment,â you smile. âWell, goodnight then, Astarion.â
Before he can say anything, youâve headed off to your bed, leaving him alone with his swirling thoughts. He gingerly picks the crown up, checking to see if anyone is paying him any mind before slipping out of the dorm and putting it on when he deems it safe enough to do so. His gaze falls upon a nearby mirror and sadness clouds his eyes when he realises he wonât be able to see how he looks like with the flower crown. His reflection will forever evade him, not even the tadpole could keep it from running away.
âYou really do look pretty wearing it.â
âWhy, thank you, darling.â Astarion smiles, taking a little bow. The action causes the flower crown to slip and when he straightens, itâs lopsided.
âConcentrate on the tadpole. I want to show you how you look with the flower crown on.â
Astarion blinks.
âOh come on, donât look at me like that. I hadnât thought about using our tadpoles like this before until Gale pointed it out,â you huff. âI bet you havenât thought about it either.â
âI ââ
âConcentrate already.â
âAs you wish, dearest.â
Astarion closes his eyes, concentrating on his tadpoleâs connection with yours and when he opens his eyes, a pale silver haired elf stands before him, ruby red eyes piercing into his very soul. He really is pretty with the flower crown on, like you said. The dark blue colour of the night orchids stands in stark contrast against the silver of his hair, creating a halo of blue around his head.
When he next opens his eyes, heâs back in his own body, tears threatening to spill over.
âThank you,â he manages to whisper, throat clogging up.
âYouâre welcome,â you smile softly, reaching over to cup his cheeks. He closes the gap without hesitation, lips meeting yours in a dance of bliss and affection. The night lasts longer than usual, or maybe it was longer than a night but neither of you can tell from underground.
When Astarion heads back to his bed, he remembers the book that is still lying underneath its sheets â a book about flowers and their various meanings with a rather familiar bookmark sticking out of it. He flips to the marked page and the section is titled âNight Orchidsâ. At the end of the passage letters come together, forming a sentence that causes tears to cascade down his face.
Gift this sweet bloom to someone you believe is beautiful in their unique and special way.
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14!
And here you go!! Thanks for requesting!!
Prompt requested is Eyes so e/c = eye colour
Summary: You and Astarion share a small quiet moment by the campfire
Eyes are the window to the soul.
Ruby red eyes burn with fire light as they stare past the flickering flames at your figure, watching as you laugh at something Karlach said. Your eyes crinkle when you laugh, a softness unique only to you shining in your e/c orbs and he feels his throat constrict, undead heart pounding in his chest.
You turn your gaze to him, feeling a stare coming from his direction and offer him a smile, your eyes lighting up when he rises from his spot around the campfire and makes his way over to you, grumbling all the while.
Karlach excuses herself with a knowing look, leaving you and Astarion alone by the campfire. The crackling flames cast a beautiful glow on your eyes, giving them a soft edge and filling them with a warmth that makes him feel alive again. He watches the orange flames dance in your eyes as you gently cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his skin and wonders if the same flames dance in his own eyes too. You lean in closer, whispering a request to kiss him on the lips and he gives you his permission, something he never thought he owned.
As you move closer, your brilliant eyes begin to close. Your lips meet his, pressing a genuine quiet kiss filled with nothing but the deep love you feel for him and he kisses back, revelling in the sensation. His ruby red eyes drink in the sight before him, watching as you pull away for air he no longer needs, a sheepish smile adorning your face as the aftereffects of the kiss linger on. Your e/c eyes shine with mirth when he leans in for another kiss and you oblige his request, pressing your lips against his once more.
âI always suspected you were a vampire, with those fangs and red eyes of yours,â you murmur, forehead pressing his. âI would never have turned you away, not while we both shared the same problem.â
Astarion closes his eyes, feeling the warmth from your body seep into his cold undead one. âI know that now, my love.â
He opens his eyes again, his beautiful red gaze searching your face and all he finds is the quiet gentle love that you give him over and over again, no matter how broken he is, no matter how far he tries to push you away, no matter how much he hates himself.
âDo you remember what colour your eyes were before you were turned?â You brush aside his white curls, fingers lingering on his face.
âIâm afraid I donât remember much from back then, including how I looked like, darling.â The sadness in his voice isnât lost on you. He takes one of your hands in his and intertwines your fingers together, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. âNot being able to see my reflection in a very long while has erased quite a bit of my memories regarding my appearance.â
âDo you miss it, your previous appearance?â
âIâŠI donât know. Maybe I do, maybe I donât, not remembering how I looked like before doesnât help either.â His lips curl into a fake smile, âbut that doesnât matter now does it? Not when youâve fallen for these looks.â
âDonât you want to know how you looked like before?â
âDo you want to know?â He asks back.
âI wouldnât mind, but more importantly, do you want to know? If itâs not something you want then I respect it and wonât push any further.â You shake your head before looking into his eyes. âTo me, youâre already perfect the way you are right now.â
His mouth falls slightly ajar, his mind struggling to find the right words to say as tears prick the corners of his eyes.
Perfect. You had called him â a broken disguting wretch of a vampire spawn, a slave to sanguine hunger, a creature of the dark and nightmares â perfect. Most of all, you had meant it.
The tears that spring forth donât escape your notice and you quickly reach over to wipe them away, concern in your eyes.
âWas it something I said? Did I hurt you? Please, tell me, I promise I wonât do it again.â Concern turns to panic when tears start to slide down his cheeks uncontrollably.
âItâs nothing.â He wipes the salty liquid away, ignoring the way his chest tightens whenever you worry over him and look at him with such concern in your eyes, but the way his gaze flicks over everywhere but you gives everything away.
âStarâŠâ You murmur, âI know itâs not nothing, but I wonât know how not to repeat it unless you tell me.â
âYou didnât hurt me,â he chokes out. âQuite the opposite, actually.â
You raise an eyebrow, doubting his words until he lifts your chin for the perfect angle, slotting his lips against yours once more. His gaze remains fixed on you, watching for your reaction until you close your eyes in bliss, your lips curving into a genuine smile and only then does he lower his guard, knowing youâre still with him.
When you open your eyes again, the love that fills them washes over him, bathing him in its warm soothing embrace and he canât help but return the favour, hoping his own eyes convey the same feelings back to you. Youâre his everything, the only one who happily called yourself his, the only one whose eyes he could get lost in each and every time. He couldnât fathom a life without you, and ironically it wasnât long ago when he couldnât have cared less about you, but each time you looked at him with those e/c orbs of yours, his undead heart would skip a beat and his feet would carry him over to you.
A small smile flits across your face when you realise Astarion is staring at you and you boop his nose, snapping him out of his thoughts. His ruby red gaze flickers around before landing on you, realising that youâre the source of the disturbance and mock annoyance fills the red orbs. Still, he smirks and boops you back before you can react before pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.
His gaze softens at your pout and he leans in to kiss the pout away, happiness sparkling in his eyes when you smile once more at him, telling him heâs forgiven for booping you. Itâs a childish game really, the one the two of you are playing, but it always brings a smile on his face and you love the way his eyes light up when heâs truly smiling.
âYou really are perfect just that way you are.â
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Update
For the two horizon zero dawn requests, as I have not played the game before and barely know anything about it, I will take quite some time to get them done due to the research I'll be doing to try and get as accurate a picture as possible. So sorry for the wait!!
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Hi! I was wondering if you plan on reposting your old Genshin writings? They were a huge source of comfort for me and I would love to be able to read them again. But I understand if not. Thank you for your time.
Hi!! Currently all my genshin works are also on ao3, but if you would rather I repost over here let me know!
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100 Followers Event!!!
So, to celebrate this milestone, I've come up with a prompt list that you all can request from!! Just send in the number/word to my inbox and I swear I'll get to it! (yes all fics will be Astarion x reader/Tav/Durge as per usual)
Prompt List:
Hands
Water
Darkness
Light
Flowers
Silver
Clothes
Urge
Blood
Heart
Fangs
Wine
Nightmares
Eyes
Kill
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Acts of Love
Summary: The various ways in which you and Astarion show how much you love one another
âCould I kiss you?â
Oh his favourite question that falls from your lips every night before you head to bed and every morning when you first wake up. Each time you speak those words a shiver runs up his spine, the good kind that spurns him onwards, that opens his lips to let his dam of feelings spill forth.
âHow could I say no?â He smiles each and every time, genuinely. Your lips taste divine and with each kiss he yearns for more. He yearns to show you how much he loves you, how much he cherishes you, how much he needs you and yet all he knows how to do is offer his body unto you. He doesnât know how else to show you how much he cares, but heâs tries anyways.
He mends your clothes for you in the dead of night, and when morning comes he pretends like nothing has happened but you notice the stitches anyways. A silent thank you is exchanged, a small grateful smile sent his way when the others arenât looking and he looks away, hiding his quickly blushing face.
The way the tips of his ears turn red doesnât escape your notice.
When small gifts suddenly appear just outside your tent, he always feigns ignorance about their origins, but itâs always something you mentioned in passing the previous day to him. One day you decide to return the favour, and now its a daily occurrence, a way to show your love without needing to say anything. He refuses to tell you how he keeps every single trinket you gift to him, no matter how useless he says they are.
Theyâre pieces of your deep and genuine love for him, how could he not keep them?
As he kisses you over and over again, his fingers start to linger on your face longer and longer. If he could, he would never want to let go of you but alas he cannot have you to all to himself just yet, there are other travelling companions who need you, so every time you take those steps leading up to him, he closes the distance just to have a few more seconds with you. He pulls away from your lips with reluctance each and every time, resisting the urge to press his forehead against yours and simply relishes in the fact that you donât mind his lingering touch. He would never let you go if he could, and he knows you feel the same way too when you slowly drag yourself away from his touch, the soft smile reserved only for him sent his way.
With each kiss, the kisses grows deeper as he pours more and more of his longing into them, wanting nothing more than you, loving the way your eyes half close when your lips connect, loving the way you melt into him. Your hands always find their way to the small of his back, pressing him flush against your body as his hands roam around, finding their way to your back and entangling in your hair. He loves the way you convey the love you have for him in each moment of the kiss, a warmth blooming in his undead chest each time your hands linger on his face after the kiss. He doesnât mind how you nuzzle him afterwards, unable to get enough of him and he can never wipe the smirk off his face whenever he catches one of your companions sending him a scowl for taking you away from them.
You are his and he is yours.
He loves the way you cup his face after every night kiss, gazing into his eyes with such love and care that he gets lost in your eyes, drowning in the sea of your love. Only the touch of your thumb brushing over his cold skin pulls him back and he rests his own hands on yours, taking in the sight before him.
He imprints into his mind the way the moonlight shines upon you, basking you in its silvery light whenever you kiss him under the stars that dot the night sky. He doesnât believe in the gods of Faerun but if someone told him that you were sent by Selune herself, he would believe them from the way the moonlight frames you perfectly each and every time. He canât bring himself to let this moment go, wishing this moment would last forever but time always marches on, so he lets it go and eagerly awaits the next one, knowing you will come back to him once more when dawn breaks.
And you always do.
His face canât help but light up whenever you approach him, his tongue full of honeyed words that dissapate into the air when he opens his mouth to greet you.
âGods, youâre beautifulâ is all he can manage, moved by the way you always find him first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. Youâre always the last thing on his mind before he trances and the first thing on his mind when he wakes, for you to feel the same way brings him a joy he cannot find the words to describe. His flowery vocabulary always fails him when he opens his mouth to speak to you, only ever able to hold himself together just enough to form some words of greeting and the smile you give him in return only steals his heart over and over again.
âCan we talk about the two of us?â
Your voice is the sweetest melody heâs ever heard, he could listen to you talk all day about anything and everything, never growing tired of hearing words fall from your lips. When you speak up for him, defending him from those who do not understand his boundaries, his undead heart skips a beat. You use more than just your weapons and magic to protect him, your voice weaving power into words that create a shield around him and he wishes he could do the same for you.
âThey said ânoâ. You should learn the meaning of the word.â
He canât help but jump to your defense, snapping at the drow who keeps pushing you despite your protests. The grateful look in your eyes is well worth the outburst and pride swells within him. He can defend you just like how you defend him, he can return the favour and you appreciate it when he does so.
âI love you.â
He loves you so deeply that he fears losing you more than anything in this world, and heâs always afraid that one day you will leave him for someone else, someone better. He knows he will be powerless to do anything to stop you should that day come, he believes deep down that you deserve such a person but you show up at the flap of his tent every morning, a smile on your face that shines brighter than the morning sun. So he tells himself over and over again that you will never leave him, until one day, hopefully, it sinks in and he will be free of that worry forevermore.
âI love you. I love this. And I want it all.â
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Event Time!
hOLdUp whAT? I- I thank you all?! I'm thinking of doing an event to celebrate this milestone, perhaps a small Astarion x reader/oc piece for any prompt sent? I'll do up a prompt list too, I wanna delve more into inner dialogue stuff ehe look forward to it!
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TUNA
TUNA
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Hugs
About time I finished this WIP that randomly appeared in my head. I've just finished defeating Cazador and mannnnnn I really really want to hug Astarion and never let him go.
Summary: Astarion learns to hug you.
âCanât get enough of me, darling?â Astarion purrs into your ear, sliding his arm around your waist to pull you closer. He leans in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your ear before letting his lips trail downwards, sending a shiver up your spine but you push him away, placing a hand on his chest.
âWe donât need to do this.â You shake your head, âI just want you, not your body, not your services.â
He feels his heart jump into his throat, anxiety gnawing at him but he smiles outwardly anyways, as practiced. âWhich part of me exactly do you want?â
âAll of you,â you breathe. He blinks, surprised as you intertwine your fingers with his, a thumb gently brushing over his smooth skin. The warmth sends tingles from his arm to his body, a fuzzy feeling blooming in his chest that fills him with uncertainty.
Is this genuine love? Is this how love is supposed to feel like?
Why would you want all of him?
He cannot understand why you would want the monsterous side of him, the side that craves blood, the side that is spoken in hushed whispers, woven into stories parents tell their children to scare them into bed. He hides his fangs whenever he smiles, afraid that your gaze will be drawn to them and that they will be all you ever see of him but you never seem to be scared of them, always open to him sinking them into your soft neck so that he can drink the ambrosia that is your blood.
You place an arm around his waist, noticing that distant look in his eyes and press your chest against his, hoping the sensation will bring him back from whatever abyss heâs fallen into and his head snaps up, ruby eyes locking with yours with a look youâve never seen in them before. You feel his hand tremble as he tentatively rests it on your back and he inhales sharply.
âIf youâre not comfortable we can stop,â you murmur. âI donât want to force you to do anything.â
âYouâreâŠnot, darling. Itâs justâŠâ He swallows. âItâs nothing.â
You narrow your eyes. If all this time spent with him has taught you something, is that every time he says âitâs nothingâ itâs always something.
âAstarion, you can tell me anything, but take all the time you need, alright?â
His lips quirk up for a split second, instinctively sending you a reassuring smile but the smile quickly fades, replaced by a sorrowful look. He gazes at the ground, suppressing the urge to just melt into you. You deserve someone better than him, someone who could love you properly, who understood what love truly meant and didnât feel disgust rising every time they placed a hand on your skin because of their past. No matter how much he loves you, heâs not the best one for you.
You reach out to him, a hand gently touching his cheek but he pulls away with a snarl, fangs bared and you quickly stumble backwards, surprised at his hostility. His eyes widen when he realises what heâs done and guilt devours him even further. Your touch feels tainted, even if it lacks the usual lust and desire behind it, but that is no reason to hurt you. He forces himself to reach for your hand, muttering a quiet apology as practiced and rests it on his cheek, willing his body to remain still like always.
Doing this should be easy, heâs been doing this for centuries, so why does it feel so difficult now?
You look at him with concern, an emotion usually devoid in the eyes of those who touch him and pull your hand away of your own accord.
âIâm sorry.â
Why were you apologising? He was the one in the wrong, he was the one who had broken the moment, he was the reason the night had turned from one of tranquility to one of tension.
âThereâs no need to apologise, love. Shall we continue?â He leans in once more despite the sickening smell that your scent has transformed into. âYouâre just that intoxicating.â
Still, you push him away, noticing how heâs zoning out each time he moves closer to you. Worry creases your eyebrows and you take a step back, moving just out of his reach.
âDid I overstep any boundaries?â You ask. âIâm sorry if I did.â
âYou didnât, darling.â He shakes his head. âYouâre far too perfect to make such mistakes.â
Far too perfect for him.
âAstarion,â you realise whatâs plaguing him. âNo matter how long it takes, I will always be by your side. You are my star, my entire world, no one else can possibly replace you or be better than you.â
âI shouldnât be,â he mumbles. âI only add to your burdens.â
âWell, itâs only fair that you do that since I do the same to you.â
âNo you donât!â Astarion snaps. âDonât you ever say that about yourself!â
He glares at you, fists clenched, his clawed fingertips digging into his palms. You raise your hands in surrender, slowly stepping away from the riled up vampire spawn upon whom realisation has dawned. He inwardly curls up even more, despising himself for taking out his anger on you and yet no matter what he does, you refuse to leave. Youâre still standing there, a safe distance away but within his line of sight with no intention of leaving him. He cannot wrap his mind around why you would do such a thing, why you wouldnât leave someone as unstable and unloveable as him, but a small part of him is grateful for that, he canât bear to watch you leave.
âSorry.â He chokes out, the word leaving a foreign feeling in his mouth. âI ââ
âItâs alright, apology accepted.â You smile. âWe should return to camp, the others must be wondering what is taking us so long.â
Astarion shifts from one leg to another, scratching the back of his neck, âwait, darling, please.â
You pause, turning around to look at him, âyes, Astarion?â
âIâŠâ He starts. âItâs not your fault, itâs mine. Everything feels tainted, touching you feels disgusting, being so close to you feels nauseating, but itâs not your fault. It has nothing to do with you, I promise, itâs ââ
âI know. You donât have to say it out loud if you donât want to. Iâm sorry I canât erase the past, but I want to help you forge new associations with touch.â You raise a hand, palm facing him. He does the same, shakily moving his palm closer to yours but encouraged by your smile, he presses your palms together. He swallows the bile rising to his throat and looks to you, waiting for you to make the next move. You take a step closer and he does the same, although his step is filled with much more uncertainty. You give him an encouraging nod and take another step. This time, his step is more certain, made with the signature confidence you know and love.
After a third step, the both of you are close enough that your nose fills with the scent of bergamot, rosemary and a hint of rosemary, overlaying Astarionâs real undead scent. You cautiously put an arm around his waist and when he doesnât flinch, you grow bolder, removing your hand from his and putting the other arm around his waist.
He freezes, but the action raises no memories heâd rather keep locked away so he tries to keep himself grounded, to feel the soothing warmth of your arms around him that mean him no harm. He locks eyes with you and your gaze washes all the fear away, stirring something within him. He wouldnât have dared do this before, but tonight youâve given him more than enough courage to attempt this.
Astarion steels himself, and then puts his own arms around you. His undead heart thunders in his chest, fear consuming his mind. What if you pull away? What if you hate his cold touch? What if â
You lean into his embrace, silencing all his fears and nuzzle into his chest. He lets out a breath he never realised he was holding and buries his face into your shoulder, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Your embrace is vastly different from the previous embraces heâs had, all you want out of it is a display of love and care, you donât want his body, you donât want what he can offer, you donât want anything in return.
As he continues to hold onto you, never wanting to let go, he lets a hand wander up your back, finding a better position to pull you closer and you hum in response, happily burrowing deeper into his arms.
âI like this, you know,â he whispers. âWhatever it is that we have, I donât want it to end.â
âI feel the same way,â you whisper back, breathing in his scent. âLetâs stay here like this, the others can survive on their own for a little while longer.â
âIâm sure they can, my love.â
Hugging has definitely made its way to the top of his list of favourite things to do with you, Astarion thinks, listening to your happy hums as you soak in his embrace. He should do this more often.
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I. AM. FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. SCHOOL IS NO MORE FOR A MONTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO MANY IDEAS FOR THE PRECIOUS BEAN THAT IS ASTARION AND THE REAL URGE TO PLAY BG3 AND NEVER STOP
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I Am Here Now
And we are back with more hurt/comfort!
Thank you to all those posts about this particularly heartbreaking scene from The Last Unicorn and that one post about how it would fit Astarion and that one comic that made it come to life with pictures. Here's my contribution to it with words.
Summary: Even though the two of you push each other away, you always find a way to come back to one another.
Heâd thought you had left him alone to die. Even after all the sweet things heâs said, about how he trusts you, how he knows you will be there for him, he still doubted you when it counted. Captured by vampire hunters, heâd been held in a cage for so long that heâd lost count, or perhaps it was the torture his captors had decided to inflict upon him that had made him lose count. At some point, he had lost all hope of you coming to rescue him, believing himself to be unworthy of the effort needed.
And then you had shown up in all your bloody glory, howling with rage and cutting down any hunter who had stood in your way. He had never been happier to see you again, and never been angrier.
âWhere have you been?â He chokes, collapsing into your arms the moment he is free of the accursed cage. You silently hold him tight, gaze downcast. Rage rekindles within you when you see how broken the hunters have made the one you love, and you wish you could bring the hunters back just to make them suffer over and over again.
âI am here now,â you whisper, hoping to comfort him. You should have searched harder, hunted fiercer, found him faster, prevented the whole kidnapping in the first place. It was your naivety that had landed him in this situation, it was all your fault.
âAnd what good is it to me that youâre here now?â Astarion hates that youâre seeing him with his walls shattered, his broken heart laid bare before you. Self-hatred overtakes him, spewing venom meant for himself at you. The words tear him apart and pierce your heart, shattering it but you still hold onto him. Youâve finally found him after such a long and anxious search, youâre not letting him go any time soon.
âWhere were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? Hells, a hundred years ago?â He cries, clawed fingertips digging into your skin. The fabric of your top crumples beneath his fingers, tears dampening the cloth. His voice breaks, words dissolving into sobs as he buries his face into your chest, wanting nothing more than to disappear, dissolve, be anywhere but here. Yet you hold him close, wrapping him in your warm embrace despite the daggers that have embedded themselves in your heart courtesy of him. You let him vent it all out, giving him the space he never had even though each sob rips at your heart further.
âHow dare you,â he whimpers once his tears have sapped him of all his energy, âhow dare you come to me now, when I am this?â He hadnât been the best person back when he was alive, corruption ran deep in the city he was magistrate of perpetuated by his truly, but at least he had been as normal as any elf could be. Now he was a vampire spawn, weaker than true vampires but with the same weaknesses. He had fallen so far down, a slave to both sanguine hunger and Cazador, a creature sealed in darkness lest he be dissolved by the sun, a monster despised by all.
All but you.
You let him weakly hit you, the punches lacking malice as they lightly connect with your skin and sobs continue to wrack his body. Running your fingers through his hair, you pull him as close as you possibly can and rest his head on your shoulder.
âI wish you had never come.â The words leave his lips in a whisper. The words he never meant, the words he wished he could take back the moment he spoke them, the words that hurt the most. You flinch at the words but tell yourself that he doesnât mean it, that the words just slipped out on accident, that it was the self-loathing and trauma that spun these words, right?
âWhy did you come now?â
You feel him go limp in your arms, slipping into unconciousness as exhaustion takes hold of him. As Halsin moves to carry him back to camp, you reach up and touch something wet on your face. Tears. Something catches in your throat and you tell your companions to head back to camp first, youâll catch up with them later. Despite the looks of concern, they do as you say at Jaheiraâs behest, the older woman knowing that you needed some space.
You mindlessly walk in the opposite direction of the camp, the warmth of the sun a distant feeling despite it blazing high in the sky. Numbness envelopes your body, sending chills down your spine but nothing can overpower the pain in your heart. His words have cut deep, even if you try to convince yourself otherwise and the freshness of the air that you usually enjoy does nothing to alleviate the hurt.
With a sigh, you collapse against a tree trunk, sucking in a deep breath at the twinge of pain that shoots up your side. Shit. Blood has soaked through your tunic on your left side and lifting up the cloth reveals a nasty gash courtesy of a rogueâs dagger. You let out a ragged breath, chest heaving as you rip your tunic off and press the cloth against the wound, hoping to staunch the bleeding before you die of blood loss. White hot pain shoots through you the moment the cloth makes contact and you bite your lip to suppress the yelp, willing yourself to remain strong until you can stagger back to camp and get the wound healed. Knocking back the last healing potion in your pack, you force yourself to stand once more, limping in the direction of camp and past the concerned stares of your companions straight into your tent where you collapse once more, this time unable to bite back a cry of pain when the action tears at your wound. You down more healing potions, a groan of relief escaping your lips as you feel the wound stitching itself together, your body feeling lighter with each mouthful.
Shadowheart peers into your tent but you wave her away, muttering something about wanting some space and she obliges, but leaves a few more healing potions behind just in case. You tuck yourself into your bed roll, something you havenât done in quite a while now ever since Astarion took it upon himself to be the one to make you comfortable, and the thought sends another twang of sadness through your heart.
Did he want you back? You wouldnât blame him if he didnât, it was your fault after all that he got kidnapped. You had been the childish one, yelling at him to get out of your sight after he had been trying to get you to take a break, going as far as to push him out of your tent physically and slamming the tent flap shut, completely missing the flash of hurt in his eyes. The next time you had left your tent, wanting to apologise, Wyll informed you that Astarion left the camp some time ago and had yet to return, panic setting in when Gale pointed out Astarion had disappeared for half a day. You were the one who had driven him away first, it was only fair that he returned the favour.
Pulling the blanket over your head, you bury yourself in the darkness, tears pricking the edges of your eyes again. You had hurt him, perhaps more than he had hurt you, made worse by your prior promise to never hurt him. He didnât deserve you, he deserved someone who could perfectly love him, cherish him, give him everything he needed and more.
âY/N?â A quiet voice calls out but you remain still. You recognise the voice, why was he here?
âI know youâre there, darling. You canât hide from me that easily.â His voice is louder now, coming from next to your bedroll but you stubbornly remain where you are. You hear a shuffling sound and something impacts the ground â he probably seated himself on the ground.
âIâŠI wanted to say that IâmâŠIâm sorry.â The words feel like thorns in his throat but he forces them out anyways. He knows he has to, Karlach had encouraged him to in all her usual enthusiasm and had filled him in on what he had missed while unconscious. His immediate reaction was to check up on you from a distance, but Karlach had pushed him towards your tent, giving him a thumbs up which pressured him into going in.
You keep silent, mind struggling to form a sentence as he pours everything out to you once more, carefully lowering his walls to let you in again.
âI know I said things that hurt you, and I should not have said any of it. You rescued me, even though I thought you would never come for me and I pushed you away instead of thanking you.â He pauses, taking a deep breath he doesnât need. âYou deserve better.â
âYouâre the one who deserves better.â
Astarion blinks, sitting up straight as you shift, getting out of the bed roll.
âYouâre the one who deserves better,â you repeat, unable to meet his ruby gaze. âI was the reason you were kidnapped in the first place, if I hadnât snapped at you, shouted at you, driven you away, you would never have left the camp, the hunters would never have found you and ââ
âItâs not your fault.â He places a finger on your lips, eyebrows furrowed.
âBut it is!â You push his finger away. âI hurt you just as much, no, more than you words ever hurt me because I promised to never hurt you! Yet I did!â
âYou didnât mean to.â
âIt doesnât excuse anything! Stop taking everything just because you donât want to lose this relationship!â
âBut I donât!â He yells back. âI donât want to lose this! I donât want to lose whatever we have!â
âI donât want to lose you.â His voice cracks as he stumbles over the words that shut you up. âIfâŠif you donât want me anymore I will ââ
âWhen did I ever say that. Youâre my entire world, why would I not want you?â You cut him off. He raises an eyebrow at you, searching for hints of deception but all he sees is genuineness, a fierce love for him burning within you and above all, a deep yearning for him and nothing else.
You move closer to him, cautiously reaching out with a hand that he clasps in his cold undead ones and you canât help but smile. This brought back memories â the first time you ever hugged him, the first time he ever felt a physical touch that wasnât sex or abuse. He puts an uncertain arm around your waist, waiting for you to do something and you lean into his touch, putting your own arms around his waist, hand holding long forgotten in place of hugging him. He pulls you in, nuzzling you and lets out a small sigh of relief.
He didnât lose you. Youâre still here. You still want him.
As much as you are his light in the darkness, he is your guiding beacon. He is the reason you continue pushing on each and every day, and you want him to know that. Tilting your head up, you meet his lips with your own, a sweet gesture that never grows old and conveys everything in your heart. He kisses back, fingers tangling in your hair and revels in the moment, wishing it would never end but alas, you need to breathe.
âI love you.â Itâs the first time youâve said those words to him.
âI love you too.â Itâs not the last time heâll say those words back.
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You're Not Alone (pt 2)
And here is the requested part 2 of vampire spawn!Tav/reader! I'm pretty sure I injected more fluff into this one after the very dark part 1.
Taglist (I guess I could do one in the future): @silverfangmarks @astarioffsimpmain
Summary: You and Astarion deal with the aftermath that is you being turned into a vampire spawn.
After the events of Cazadorâs palace, the group quietly head back to the inn, covered in blood and downcast. Astarion keeps his distance from your limp body gently cradled by Halsin, gaze fixed on the ground and disappears the moment the party reaches the inn.
âWhere is the vampire spawn going?â Laeâzel hisses. âHe is the reason why Y/N is like this, he should be here.â
âLeave him be, Laeâzel. Heâs taken the events hard, give him some space for now.â Halsin chides, setting you down on a bed. Your physical injuries can be easily healed with some blood, fortunately Cazador hadnât gotten far with his poem before the party had crashed the ritual so your scars wouldnât be as bad as Astarionâs but the main issue is the emotional scarring. Halsin had hoped Astarion would remain by your side so that when you woke up, he could help you but the vampire had gone off by himself and Halsin wasnât sure when heâd return.
The druid slices open a wound on his wrist and lets the blood drip into your slightly ajar mouth. Your throat bobs instinctively, swallowing the precious fluid but your eyes remain close. At least youâre drinking the blood, that was enough at this stage. He continues letting his blood drip into your mouth until your eyelids flutter and you stir slightly.
âY/N.â He says. You groan in response, eyes opening blearily.
This place smelled different, looked different. You were in a different place, where were you? You shoot up, eyes wide and muscles tensed, ready to fight. A quick glance around the place told you you were in a room of sorts and the only other person around was Halsin.
âWhere am I?â You croak. Your body felt cold, sore and you wanted nothing more than to fall into a deep slumber.
âYouâre at Elfsong Tavernâs Inn. Donât worry, youâre safe now. Cazador is gone, he canât harm you anymore,â Halsin reassures you, but keeps a distance away to give you some space. You press a hand to your head as memories come rushing back to you. Astarionâs siblings coming for him, you defending him, Cazador appearing and kidnapping you, Astarionâs cry for you, Cazador using you as Astarionâs substitute in the ritual, the pain that followed, the others rescuing you, Astarion holding you tightly in his arms, comforting youâŠ
'âAstarion,â you whisper, âwhereâŠâ
âHeâll be back soon,â Halsin says, but you can tell heâs lying.
âYou donât know!â You snap accusingly, âstop lying! Where did he go?â
âCalm down, Y/N. After we brought you back, Astarion left for somewhere, although none of us know where or how long he will be gone. He still hasnât returned.â Halsin raises his hands in surrender. âI didnât want to worry you after all youâve just been through.â
âItâs just that simple! Just tell me! Like that!â You snarl, fangs bared. Halsin leans away so that your fangs are far enough from him and you realise what youâve just done.
âIâm sorry. Itâs not even your fault.â You sit back down on the bed, shoulders hunched. âEverythingâs been soâŠmuch.â
Halsin shakes his head, âitâs quite alright. You have a lot to adjust to, with your newâŠcondition.â
âAt least the tadpole still lets me walk in the sun,â you give a hollow laugh, âif Astarionâs ability to do so is anything to go by.â
You smile sadly at the bed beneath you. âThings can never go back to the way it was, and I was so looking forward to doing so many things once we had our tadpoles removed too.â
Halsin remains quiet and you sit there in the silence with him, tears sliding down your cold cheeks. You curl up, hugging your knees to your chest, causing tears to stain your kneecaps. The warmth you once had is all gone now, replaced by a chill that reminds you of what you have lost, of what you once had.
âAre you still hungry?â Halsin quietly breaks the silence, extending his wrist towards you. You shake your head despite the sanguine hunger gnawing at you, afraid of what the act of feeding solidifies.
âThen I will take my leave first. Call me if you need anything.â The druid rises from the stool, sending you a look of concern but leaves you with your thoughts.
You stare at your hands, your cold undead hands and bite your lip. Your new fangs pierce through skin with ease, drawing a little blood and your nostrils flare instinctively at the scent. The sanguine hunger roars again, louder this time. It craves blood, it demands blood but you force it down as far as it can go. You hate it, you hate your new condition. You hate the thought that once your tadpole has been removed, youâll never be able to enjoy the sun again, feel its warmth. You finally truly understand why Astarion had been so adamant about ascending, the temptation to do the same is strong.
Suddenly, a new scent floods your nose.
âWhoâs there?â You call, glaring in the direction of the scent. Astarion steps into view, smiling a little too widely â a sign that he was nervous.
âYouâre awake, darling. Thatâs good.â He moves to sit on your bed. âHow are you feeling?â
âLike Iâve just been turned into a vampire spawn?â He flinches at your words and you wish you could take them back.
âSorry.â You mutter. âItâs justâŠa lot to take in.â
Astarion quietly looks down, fidgeting. The silence between the two of you isnât the comfortable kind, the tension in the air waiting for one of you to cut it so you decide to take the initiative.
âWhatâs it like, being a vampire spawn. Is there anything I have to take note of?â
âItâsâŠsomething that takes time to get used to.â Astarion murmurs.
âWell, good thing I have you to guide me, donât I?â You smile, reaching over to take his hand in yours. Both your hands are cold now, freezing to the touch, reminding Astarion of one more thing he has lost to Cazador.
âEven when permanently dead he still haunts me,â Astarion mutters, squeezing your hand tightly. âHow badly did he scar you?â
The concern in his ruby red eyes is genuine, a softness youâve missed filling the crimson orbs. You turn around despite everything in your body screaming at you not to, feeling yourself shake as you slip your top off, flashes of memories youâd rather keep buried burning through your mind. Astarion suppresses the angry growl that threatens to spill from his throat, hatred for Cazador burning once more and wishes he could drag the vampire lord from wherever dead vampires went just so he could make Cazador pay with pain a million times worse than yours.
You swallow as bile rises to your throat, the overwhelming scent of your blood filling your nose, screams of pain flooding your mind, then the scent youâve saved as Astarionâs fills your nose as he wraps his arms around you, whispers of love falling from his lips.
âItâs alright darling, Iâve got you. I promise youâre safe. Focus on my voice, breathe together with me.â He whispers into your ear. âInâŠoutâŠinâŠoutâŠâ
Through the haze, you struggle to regain control of your body, tears blurring your vision once more but with Astarionâs help, you find a breathing rhythm and grasp tightly onto it.
In, out. In, out.
When the room shifts back into focus, you realise that the scent of your blood wasnât just a figment of your imagination. Long claw marks decorate your arms, your clawed fingertips stained crimson while the sheets beneath soak up whatever has dripped onto it.
âShit, Iâm a mess,â you whimper.
âEveryone is,â Astarion reassures you, pulling a bottle out. âHere, youâll need to drink this. All of it. Donât leave a single drop.â
The sweet scent of blood fills the air as he uncorks the bottle and your hunger growls, eager to lap it all up but you push his hand and the bottle away. âIâm not hungry.â
âDonât be stubborn,â Astarion scowls. âIâm not going to let you starve yourself to death, trust me, you do not want to be starving as a vampire. Itâs worse than death.â
âI donât want to drink another personâs blood,â you croak weakly. The very thought of doing so makes you want to vomit, but your body says otherwise.
âItâs bear blood. I went out to hunt and came across a bear,â Astarion swirls the bottle. âI promise Iâm not lying.â
You cautiously take the bottle from him, lifting it up to your lips. You have to trust him on this, itâs not like you know how bear blood smells like as a vampire. Locking gazes with him, you tilt the bottle, letting the sweet liquid wash down your throat. Strange new flavours burst in your mouth but itâs a pleasant taste and sends a tingle down your spine. Soon, youâre greedily sucking the bottle dry until there is not a drop left.
âThere, not so bad, is it?â Astarion leans in to give you a peck on your cheek. âNow, your instincts should help but this is the best place to drink from on a wrist.â
He points to a spot on his wrist and lifts it up to your lips, âgive it a try.â
You eye him warily and he sighs at your reluctance, âI canât keep giving you bottles of blood to drink from, love. Youâre going to need to learn how to feed yourself.â
âBut I donât want to,â you mumble. Astarion frowns but doesnât push the matter further, instead he reaches for the medical kit Halsin has left behind and starts to clean up the dried blood on your arms. You let him, silently watching as the cloth starts to turn brown.
âThere, all beautiful and blemish-free again,â he presses kisses along the length of both your arms, tossing the cloth aside. âBeingâŠthis doesnât change anything about you, love. Youâre still the same person, and that is more than enough for me.â
He cups your cheeks, letting his thumbs run over the skin of your cheeks. Leaning in, he presses his forehead against yours and feels you wrap your arms around him. With a small smile, he pulls you in, feeling your head rest on his shoulder as he embraces you tightly, breathing in your new scent. One of his hands gently rests on the back of your head, fingers running through your matted hair.
âYouâre not alone. Iâll always be here for you, right by your side whenever you need me. That I promise. I wonât let you go through what I went through, I wonât let you be alone in this.â He swears, holding you tightly. âWeâll face this together, side by side.â
You clutch desperately at his tunic, crying for what feels like the millionth time today into his chest and he lets you, ignoring the way your tears dampen and stain his clothes. Instead, he curls around you, wishing he could shield you from the world and the suffering he knows is to come and cherishes the way you cling onto him, the way you so clearly trust him with everything you have. No one had ever bared their soul like this to him, even all his prey had always kept a thing or two from him, no matter how sweet the lies he used to ensnare them.
You were different. You had let your walls down around him, bared your sweet neck at him, let him drink the first night he had tried drinking your blood instead of staking him on the spot and in return he had fallen for you. He let you have his back, let you into the shattered pieces he called his heart and let you see his broken self, hoping it wouldnât scare you off and it hadnât. Now you were the broken one and you had let him see it all, returning the favour was only natural but it wasnât the only reaosn he was doing all this. He wanted to help you without needing anything in return, he wanted to see you smile again, he wanted toâŠhe wanted to show you how much he truly loved you.
He had changed, that much he knew. It wasnât long ago when heâd have chosen to ascend no matter the cost, but that night when he had seen you bound by glyphs with Infernal being carved into your back, all he could think about was how if he ascended you would be sacrificed too. He couldnât bring himself to do that, he couldnât sacrifice you no matter what he would gain in return.
He wouldnât have needed to consider that if you hadnât been turned into a vampire spawn.
Years of self-hatred gnaw away at him, reminding him of his failure, hisweakness that had led to this whole mess. If only he had been stronger, faster, better, then maybe you wouldnât have to suffer his fate, the fate of a vampire spawn. His thoughts tear into him again and again, berating him, a whirling wind of destruction that threaten to unravel him. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes, fighting the darkness that threatens to drown him. He doesnât have time for this, he has to help you adjust, to be there whenever youâre drowning and he canât do that if heâs wallowing in self-deprecation. Those damned thoughts can wait another day.
A quick glance down lets him know youâve fallen asleep in his arms, worn out from recent events and he lets out a soft sigh, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
âI meant everything I said, my love,â he says, knowing you canât hear his words but thatâs fine by him. He doesnât want you to hear his next words anyways. âI love you.â
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hrmmmm so what if...number 7... but astarion x reader...idea...
Hi! Iâve recently been reading a bunch of soulmate fics, against my better judgement, so Iâve been thinking about them a bit. Do you have any prompts or ideas for playing the soulmate concept for horror? Thanks! Have a nice day!
Hi :)
I'm not the best with horror, because it's not something I read, but I'll try my best for you!
Dark Soulmates AUs
Soulmates are supposed to live and die together. That means as soon as soulmates lay eyes on each other, their souls get entwined, so that if one dies the other does too. It has become quite common to hire people that specialize in finding and killing soulmates, so that they never randomly meet them and risk dying through them.
Words can get written on each other's body, but every single letter appears as a wound, leaving nasty scars that won't go away.
Being away from your soulmate will lead to excruciating pain, if they go too far, both soulmates will die.
Soulmates get the same injuries, so it is not uncommon to see perfectly healthy people suddenly collapse with gashing wounds, when their soulmates get into accidents.
The concept of a soulmate being a romantic partner was a fairytale. In this world you share a soul with your worst enemy, having to fight for your life and the right to your soul.
People who don't find their soulmate by a certain age will eventually wither like flowers, not being able to live a life without the second half of their soul.
Soulmates feel each other's pain and criminals use this to torture two people at once.
Every touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint on your body, but everyone can clearly see if it was done in a loving manner or if your soulmate caused you harm. People pity you when they see your imprints.
Starting at age 18, people will stop aging until they find their soulmate to grow old with. Many people don't want to give up possible immortality and hire hitmen to get rid of their soulmates.
Hanahaki Disease: If your love is not getting returned, flowers start growing inside your body, suffocating you from inside. Surgical removal is dangerous and you're dying without your soulmate's love.
More: Soulmates AUs | Multiple Soulmates Prompts
Hope you like them, I had a lot more fun writing these than I thought I would. :)
- Jana
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