Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.
Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince
NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE
That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.
Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~
Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:
~
Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.
Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.
But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.
All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.
Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.
As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.
Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.
"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."
Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.
But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"
So this was the famous Arabeth.
"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."
The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.
He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.
"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.
"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"
And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.
It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?
Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"
She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"
"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"
"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"
"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."
"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.
"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"
Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.
Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."
"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.
Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?
But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.
It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.
By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.
"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.
"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."
"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.
"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"
Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.
Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.
She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"
"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."
She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"
"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.
"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"
This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.
You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."
But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."
She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"
"No! I'm marrying the prince!"
Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.
"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"
She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."
Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."
Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."
"Dad don't-"
"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.
He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."
"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."
"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."
"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"
"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.
He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.
Now all he had to do was ask.
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Too Fast
Part 4 of Jamil versus feelings (aka How Not to Be Swept Under, aka the Too Much series).
Let's see how Jamil's plan of action pans out.
Part 1, part 2, part 3.
Jamil had a plan.
He already knew he could make you smile, even laugh. That you sought out his company - and not just to sample his cooking (or Kalim’s generosity). Like that time when Jamil had helped you with your homework - considering how little you needed the help, it seemed to have been an excuse on both your sides to just spend time with each other.
Jamil knew the foods that would bring that delighted sparkle to your eye, knew when to step in before you were overwhelmed. You often shared any news with Jamil, filling him in the little happenings of your life - and had gotten him to do the same with you, too. He’d listened to you reminisce about your childhood and your home, even knew a few embarrassing secrets you’d revealed over the course of your conversations.
In short, it was clear that you had some degree of fondness for him.
However, Jamil had yet to ascertain the exact nature of how you felt about him.
But he was certain he could pull it out of you. Nudge you to act, to talk, so that he could gather those signs to tell him if you were open for more.
He’d see if you truly didn’t speak to others the same way you did to him. If you truly didn’t give others that look which always made things so difficult for him.
There had been those times when you had blushed in Jamil’s presence. You’d flustered, stuttered, restless fingers showing your nervousness.
But Jamil needed to make sure if it was because of him, or just the situations you’d been in.
Jamil had recognized the things you were doing, how you kept on getting closer to him.
But he needed to know if it all was enough for what he wanted with you.
And if not… Well. Perhaps there was something to be done about that. Given enough time, enough attention…
He could be a listening ear, a supporting presence, get to know you further, if he needed to.
Yes, he wanted you to be his sooner rather than later, but if he had to wait and work for it, he would.
After all, it was not like him to ruin such things with haste.
When Jamil’s phone buzzed, he pulled it out without even thinking about it.
Before, he always dreaded it, his phone typically only coming to life when Kalim needed something or there was another crisis to deal with.
Yet, nowadays, there was always the hope of it being you.
Jamil hefted his gym bag over his shoulder and unlocked his phone. The basketball club had run late today, and he needed to hurry back to Scarabia - but not before checking the message.
Thankfully, you were indeed the sender.
Hey, wanna go out to the town sometime? Cater told me there’s a nice cafe that opened recently.
Another message popped in before Jamil could finish reading the first.
Like, go out as a date.
The phone slipped from Jamil’s grip, landing on the locker room bench with a thud.
“Hey, Jamil, what’s got you so clumsy?” Ace said, peering at Jamil with a teasing grin.
Jamil cursed himself internally, quickly hiding your messages from view. Normally, he would’ve been walking across campus at this time, perhaps at the dorm already, rather than under the watchful eyes of his clubmates.
But, of course, not today.
“Just fumbled,” Jamil said, struggling to school his expression back to neutral.
“You sure about that? You’re looking awfully flustered,” Ace snickered.
“Ooo, is Sea Snake getting some exciting messages?” Floyd asked, looming closer.
Jamil gave both of them a sharp glare - the effect perhaps hampered by his flushed complexion. He really did not need Floyd and Ace’s antics on top of this bombshell right now.
“Must be the effects of the practice,” Jamil said with a tone of finality.
Not that that seemed to deter the two, now that they’d gotten a taste of blood in the water.
Rather than bickering with them further Jamil grabbed his things and hurried off. He almost expected Floyd to chase after him, even half-dressed as Floyd still was, but thankfully the eel did not seem to be in that much of an inquisitive mood today.
Small blessings.
Jamil was barely aware of his surroundings as he walked, his heart beating a more frantic rhythm than it had during the practice.
How was he supposed to respond to you?
He had not even done anything as he planned, and you already…
Jamil shook his head, tried to keep himself together despite the turmoil your little messages had thrown him into.
Sure, he had intended to push you to act, to reveal the nature of your feelings.
Yet that had left Jamil woefully unprepared for this.
Jamil stared at his phone again, barely remembering to blink or breathe, nearly colliding head-first with some other students.
Finally, he typed out a message.
Are you serious?
Your reply was almost immediate.
Yes
Jamil fidgeted with the strings of his hood, watching the little bubble that told him you were still typing.
Sorry for being a coward and not asking in person.
If you don't feel the same way we can just pretend this never happened.
Oh how Jamil wished he could see your expression right now, could talk to you in person, get to the bottom of this.
Or would it be better to respond to you in text, without worries of stumbling over his words, or getting caught in your eyes like a deer in headlights?
Jamil started writing a reply, frowned and erased it, began to compose another.
He took a deep breath, briefly lifting his eyes from the phone to check where he was going.
What did he have planned for today, anyway? How much time could he clear for you?
Mind abuzz with plans, Jamil tried again.
Can I come over later? I’ll bring something to eat.
I’d rather talk this over in private first, if that’s okay with you.
A few more messages, setting the time, assuring you that he was not opposed to your proposal. Then Jamil shoved the phone into his pocket, reviewing his options.
He’d make something quick for Kalim’s dinner while preparing something to share with you. (What could he make with the time and ingredients he had that you really liked? What about dessert? He knew how much you enjoyed sweets, after all.)
Kalim had no homework deadlines or quizzes tomorrow, and Jamil’s own schoolwork schedule had room for adjustment, as well. They could catch up later. (He’d have to make sure he looked impeccable. Would flowers be too much? Would he have the time to visit Sam’s for them?)
Jamil might have to get up a little early tomorrow for a few things, but he’d deal with that tomorrow. (What if you’d let him stay late? How close would you let him tonight? Would you let him hold you? Maybe even kiss you?)
When Jamil realized that he was standing in front of Sam’s shop instead of the mirror to Scarabia, he simply stared at the storefront for a moment, uncomprehending.
Then Jamil shook his head, frowning.
He’d have to focus, keep his mind on target. He couldn’t afford to mess this up.
Yet, despite his best efforts, Jamil salted the food twice, having to scramble to fix the flavor. When he left Scarabia he nearly left behind the small package he’d picked up at Sam’s, forced to turn back to retrieve.
And when he walked over to your dorm, Jamil had to consciously tell himself to slow down, lest he’d appear too frazzled by the time he made it.
Mentally, Jamil berated himself. Get a grip! After everything Kalim has thrown your way, you can definitely handle this.
Yet, Jamil still had to steel himself before he rapped on your door.
Jamil’s greeting nearly caught in his throat when he saw you.
He could see the effort you’d put in, dressing up a little, yet more than that it was all those emotions swirling on your features that took his breath away. The nervous excitement which had you fidget in place, the radiance in your smile, the way your eyes seemed to drink him in…
Jamil cleared his throat, determined to not drown in you.
“Thank you for accepting me on such short notice,” Jamil said, handing you a small, neatly wrapped box.
With a thrilling sense of satisfaction Jamil noted the way your eyes widened, how your voice wavered when you invited him in. How you smiled when you found out what he had picked out for you, the gift clearly finding its mark.
Still, you were both stepping around each other, following the scripts of a regular visit when this felt like anything but.
Jamil took out the food he’d made, insisted he’d help you with setting the table despite your protests.
It was an awkward dance, both of you trying to regain your footing.
“I just… feel like I have to say it,” you finally said as you were setting out the food. “That I like you. A lot. So…”
The way you spoke, pouring out your feelings, hesitant and nervous as you were…
Yes, Jamil had wanted to talk this over in person, had wanted to see and hear you say it. Still, now he had just as much trouble meeting your eyes as you had, both of you busying yourselves with the tableware.
You were so nervous, and Jamil felt the urge to pull you close and chase away all your worries.
But he would not push.
Not when he had his hands full keeping his own self under control.
A part of him couldn’t help but feel like he’d deceived you, somehow, for you to hold him in such regard.
And when the silence lingered… What could he even say?
Jamil had thought of it, sure, imagined how you’d react to his words… But at this moment nothing would rise to his tongue, all the carefully picked words gone from his mind.
Jamil took your hand, holding it in between both of his. He spoke your name, oh so softly, his voice cracking under the weight of it.
Hearing himself made Jamil cringe, yet he pushed on.
“I’m… I am glad to know we both want the same. That we feel the same.”
For a brief moment, Jamil hesitated. Then he raised your hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles. His eyes flicked to yours, full of those feelings that threatened to sweep him under.
Just him being here with you like this… It told you enough, didn’t it?
Your blush certainly seemed to suggest so.
Jamil would make sure to cause your cheeks to burn brighter. Later.
Once his own face stopped feeling like a hot plate under the sun.
* * *
Later, you sat side by side on the couch, Jamil’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and your head resting against him.
You’d hardly stopped smiling the whole evening, and Jamil could feel the hurt in his own cheeks.
It was strange, giving into those urges Jamil had been doing his best to hold back all this time.
Still, he had to admit that it was easier trying to move with the current rather than fighting against it.
Yes, the looks you gave him were still overwhelming, your words - and touch - sending his heart aflutter almost painfully.
When you sang his praises, looking at him like your happiness depended on him… It really was just a tidal wave, one far too large for Jamil to withstand.
Yet, finally, Jamil was beginning to allow himself to enjoy it all.
These things - your sweetness, your warmth - were only for him, after all. A heady thought, something that made him greedy for even more despite the overwhelming nature of it all.
Of course, Jamil still didn’t want to overstep.
Truthfully, he himself wasn’t ready for some of the scenarios tugging at the back of his mind.
With the wisdom of hindsight it seemed that you had always been ahead of Jamil, more aware of your feelings than he was of his.
Perhaps even more aware of his feelings than Jamil had been, considering how you’d pursued him - because that was what you had been doing, all this time.
Even if Jamil himself had been too busy contending with his own thoughts to truly see it.
Still, it was difficult even for Jamil to worry about such things with your warmth pressed against his side. Jamil played with your hair, let himself just soak up your presence.
And in that sweet moment Jamil finally stopped fighting, at least for a moment. He let go of his plans, his resistance, and allowed himself to be swept up by you.
Indeed, it hardly felt like he had a choice in the matter.
ETA: you can find the final / 5th part of this series here.
This sure stayed in my drafts longer than I thought it would, but here we are.
There’s still one more part coming and then we’ll be reaching the end of this particular journey.
If you'd like to be tagged in my future works, do let me know!
Jamil: alright I need to make sure they want to be with me and then I can move forward
Reader: I’ve been trying to get with you for a while now and I can’t wait any longer
or
Jamil: I gotta gain control over this situation
Reader: surprise :)
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