#Mayrina x reader

[sorcerous-caress]

Putting makeup on them

[ Bg3, fluff, several characters ] [inspired by this ]

Minthara

You straddled her waist as you held the makeup brush. Minthara's laying figure below you remained stoic even as she closed her eyes delicately when you started applying the eyeshadow.

A peaceful silence fell between the two of you. Time fading with each gentle stroke against her skin. Her stressful life and age showed in the subtle wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, you paid no mind to conceal them.

Instead, you focused on her eyes and thin lips. Picking the right colours to complement her violet skintone and grey hair.

When you finished, she made no move to remove you from on top of her, nor did she offer the mirror you handed her more than a mere glance before focusing back on you.

"You did well." Her freshly painted lips said, gloss still shining on them.

Gale

Deep brown eyes looked up at you from where his head laid on your lap, puppylike and lovestruck as he smiled.

"I can't say I had personal experience in this field, but you'd be pleased to find me a most pleasant student." His smile slowly grew into a huge grin as you applied a cream to his face with your fingers, rubbing it into his skin with care.

"Is that what your professors told you? A pleasure to have in class?" You replied, picking up the brush and applying the perfect blue to compliment his eyes, "close your eyes for me."

"Well, no." He closed them, "in the most generous of cases, I was and as they described, a menace."

You chuckled as you tried to keep your hand study with all of his squirming, "I'm starting to agree with them." Maybe he found the sensation ticklish.

Dammon

You cupped his jaw in your hand, tilting his chin up as you leaned in closer. His throat moved as he swallowed, hands fidgeting with the hem of his appron.

"We're almost done, I'm just adding the final touches." You said as you readjusted the brush between your fingers.

He attempted to nod before hesitating and deciding against it to not mess up your work.

The most lovely of blushes adorned his sharp cheekbones as you finished applying it, leaning back and admiring your work.

Dammon seemed more at ease now, as he saw the pride in your eyes at your effort, something he was very familiar with.

Picking up your hand that did all the work, He held it gently in his own as he gave it a small kiss.

The Emperor

You weren't sure where to begin, or even if makeup is safe for mindflayer skin. Tentacles floated and twisted in the air around your form, as if ready to envelope you. Their tips would occasionally brush and trail along your figure, although The Emperor made no effort to acknowledge them.

"I'm waiting." His voice echoed in your mind.

You decide to go with a kid safe makeup kit. If it's safe enough for kids to eat, then it's safe enough for mindflayers... you hoped.

In a strange way, he did make the edible glittery highlights work for him. You thought as you admired your work.

Only when you went to grab the small mirror from your pouch, did you notice that the tentacles have successfully entangled themselves around you while you were too focused to notice.

The Emperor kept pretending that nothing unusual was happening.

You handed him the mirror, and he picked the small thing with his hand as he took a look.

"Now that I've indulged you more than enough, I need you to focus on your mission." Was the last mental message you got before you were unceremoniously kicked out of the Asteral plane.

Gortash

Servants scuttered around the ceremonial hall, carrying food trays and putting the last touches on the decorations.

Gortash sat on his throne in the middle of the commotion, fully dresses in his best of robes, with each silver line and accessory shined just enough to almost resemble a mirror.

You stood in front of him, between his knees, parted to give you the space to get closer. Brush in one hand and your makeup pallet on the other.

If you recall correctly, you did finish helping him with the makeup an hour ago. But apparently, some incident happened that caused him to require your assistance again, and immediately, as the servant who came to fetsh you claimed.

Gortash looked up at you with half lidded eyes, a grin on his lips as you took in his perfect face of makeup.

There wasn't much for you to do, really, the makeup was the same as when you finished an hour ago. So you just stood there while pretending to do something as you brushed away at his skin with an empty brush, occasionally adding the most subtle of powders.

Eventually, it had to end when a servant informed both of you that the guests should be arriving soon.

"Be a dear for me and stay close during the coronation. Who knows when I might just need your expertise again."

Mayrina

"It's been so long, I haven't done this since..." her words trailed off as her lips quivered, "Connor's funeral."

You gently wiped the tear stained black makeup from around her eyes. She held on to your shoulders as you cleaned her face.

Her eyelashes fluttered when you applied mascara to them, her fingers holding onto you as if to anchor herself.

"You shouldn't have...I might just cry and ruin it." She looked away from you with shame brewing in her throat.

"Then I'll just wipe it, and we will start over again," you reassured her, "as many times as you need."

Tears threatened to spill from her glossy eyes as she gave a small smile, carefully wiping away the tears she took a deep breath as she faced you again.

"No, no, I won't. I can be strong, like you." She gave your shoulders a squeeze.

Cazador

Candlelight illuminated the room to make up for the tightly closed curtains. You wondered how anyone is able to tell night from day in this palace.

Your fingers were shaking, you took a deep breath to steady them.

Blood red eyes followed your every movement.

Clearing your throat, you presented the pallet of colours to him. "Which one would you prefer?...Sir."

His lips curled in a mock smile, fangs just peaking through for a split second.

"Black."

He always chose black, yet you always asked.

You worked quickly and efficiently. Your purpose was to give some life to his undead skin and conceal anything that might cause suspicion.

Maybe he was waiting for you to slip, you thought as you applied the subtle black liner. Maybe he's waiting for the day you forget to ask beforehand.

You almost shudder at the thought of what he might do that day.

Karlach

She is trying to kill you, you thought, she definitely is doing it on purpose.

"I said I'm sorry, come on," her arms wrapped around you, attempting to soften you up with a hug, "please?"

You weren't buying it at all.

Each single time you'd finish applying her lipstick, she'd lean forward and drown you in kisses. All over your face, your neck and hell even your ears.

The first time was endearing, and the second time was a bit much, but 5 times in a row? You'd be a fool if you fell for that obvious trap again.

"Can you blame you? How could I possibly resist." She whined as she buried her face in your neck, "You're just so focused when you do it, and I get this urge..."

She continues, "you know, sometimes I just can't believe it, the fact I can touch you and kiss you and hug you, I haven't even felt a single touch in so long and suddenly I'm free from that damn engine to do everything I've longed for and more."

...

God dammit karlach.

With a sigh, you tell her fine, you'll do it again.

Maybe you really are a fool, but who wouldn't be after seeing that genuine smile of happiness on her face. You'd be the biggest fool in all of faerun if it meant keeping her happy.

Shadowheart

"What, like a doll? Are you sure you won't ask to dress me up next?" She gives a teasing smile as she sits next to you on the couch, looking over your side of makeup equipments and scattered brushes.

"You say that like you don't like the idea." You tease back as you get closer to her, one leg resting on her lap.

"Hmm, maybe I do. What are you going to do about it?" She lets you brush her hair behind her ears, using clips to keep it in place as you get a clear view of her full face.

"I'll let you pick mine if i get to pick yours."

That catches her interest, "You'll just hand me the power of putting you in anything I want... you do know how to persuade someone."

As you start applying her makeup, you feel her relax with your touches. Her skin is very soft against your fingers.

You take your time, making sure to pick something that suits her personal style. As enticing as the thought of going on with a full hot pink on her, you know there will be consequences later. She doesn't forgive nor forget.

After painting her lips, you hand her a mirror. She observes her reflection with a surprised expression.

"I knew you were good at this, I just didn't expect...wow" her eyes are mostly focused on the reflection of her lips.

With a smug experience, you ask if it her highness the princess has any complaints.

"Yeah....just one thought." She puts the mirror down as she leans closer, holding your thigh on her lap so you don't move away.

Pressing her lips onto yours, she kisses you with passion, making you chase after her as she pulls away.

"This colour looks much better on you."

[lavenderfluorite14]

A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav

Chapter 5: Doubt

Summary: Tav tries to be a hero. Astarion is himself.

Chapter Warnings: PG-13. Tav has a panic attack but it happens from afar and is only vaguely described. Descriptions of gore and violence. Full tag list on AO3.

Tag List: DM me or reply to a chapter if you would like to be tagged in any updates!

1 . 2. 3. 4.

There was shouting up ahead. How fun. Perhaps there would be a fight, Astarion hoped. 

“Give us back Mayrina! We know you have our sister!”

Two loud angry men have cornered the doddering old granny from the Grove against an ancient tree. One braces a pitchfork threateningly at the unarmed old lady, the other clumsily brandishes a meat cleaver. It’s obvious to Astarion that these men are farmers, not seasoned highwaymen. Then the old woman spots Tav and the pleading begins.

“Petal! Please help me, I have no idea where their sister is,” she warbles feebly. It’s not enough to move Astarion, but Tav instantly jumps to the rescue. 

“Leave Auntie Ethel alone, she’d never hurt anyone!” Tav declares. Ethel, that was her name. 

“She’s with the hag!” One of the men yells. He lunges for Tav and Astarion springs into action, plunging his dagger into the man’s side. Beautiful blood spurts across Astarion’s leather doublet and the man crumples before him with a cry. It was going to be a good day. 

“Thank you so much sweetness,” Auntie Ethel coos once the two men lay dead before her. “They were looking for their sister, Mayrina, the poor girl who’s-“ she pauses for a moment, then her face splits into a crooked grin. “-The poor girl who’s staying with me.” Tav’s heartbeat picks up, hammering in her chest. Behind her, Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion all exchange a dark look. 

“Do stop by my house. I’d love to thank you proper.” Auntie Ethel’s feline grin splits even wider as she vanishes in a puff of foul green smoke. Tav whirls around, immediately locking eyes with Astarion. 

“Holy shit. Auntie Ethel really is a hag, isn’t she?” Tav’s eyes are wide, her voice frantic. Astarion shrugs.

“I don’t spend a lot of time around old ladies. I take it this isn’t normal?” Astarion says. Shadowheart rolls her eyes. 

“No, it’s not normal to disappear in a puff of smoke after tricking a group of adventurers into killing your enemies!” Gale shoots back. 

“We just killed innocent men.” The color drains from Tav’s face as her body begins to tremble. “I need to sit down,” she says. Gods below. They were two strangers who attacked them. There are worse crimes. Astarion sighs and crosses his arms as Tav leans against a tree, trying to collect herself. This was a far cry from the girl who had fearlessly insisted they investigate a desiccated tomb, who had threatened Mizora until she left their camp in a blaze of flame, who had helped Lae’Zel bully a tiefling just yesterday. After a moment Gale follows her and begins speaking to her in a low, comforting tone. Shadowheart and Astarion exchange another look.

“Here I thought Tav was proving to be capable,” Shadowheart says to him in Elvish.

“As was I. She better pull herself together soon or I’m going back to camp,” he returns.

“Really? You’d abandon your meal so quickly?” Shadowheart gives him yet another withering side-eye.

“Of course not. I still need her,” he replies under his breath. The soft golden light of a Calm Emotions spell envelops them and they turn towards Tav, whose heartbeat is slowly returning to its resting rate. She straightens up and makes her way back towards them, Gale in tow.

“I’m sorry about that, everyone. I made a bad call,” she admits. Her face is still flushed with shame.

“The old woman is clearly a hag of some kind. Hag deals are notoriously deceptive and unfair, but even so, it could be worth listening to what Ethel has to say about our parasites,” Gale interjects. 

“We’ve come all this way. Might as well,” Shadowheart agrees, speaking in Common again. 

“She sounds powerful, too,” Astarion adds, also in Common.

“And Mayrina is with her,” Tav says. Astarion shoots her an annoyed look. “I’m not saying we have to help her, I’m just saying we should check it out,” she explains. 

“She’s ‘staying with Ethel’ because she almost certainly made a deal with her,” Astarion counters. “Mayrina is exactly where she wants to be.”

“Maybe. But let’s see for ourselves,” Tav urges. Astarion frowns, but it isn’t worth the fight. She will see that he’s right when they get to Ethel’s house. 

~

They pick their way through the sunny marsh in silence. Tav leads the way, followed by Shadowheart, then Gale, and finally Astarion, who brings up the rear. Tav’s kindness had served him well so far, but as Astarion trudges through the sticky, sucking mud he decides that Tav’s kindness is getting out of hand. He doesn’t like how willingly she extends her kindness to others. It makes her weak, easy to use. So far that had worked to his advantage, but would they be running after every lost soul they met on their travels? At least the hag could help them. What could this Mayrina do? Unless she knows how to control ilithid parasites or she has experience killing powerful vampire lords, Astarion doesn’t care what happens to her. 

Maybe he was wasting his time with Tav. Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing after all. Maybe her sweet, soft heart would only get her killed. Or worse, get him killed. He cozies up to Gale, who has hiked his robe up around his knees to avoid the muddy bog. 

“I’m enjoying our long walks together, aren’t you, Gale?” Astarion says warmly, lowering his voice to a sultry hum. Gale looks over at him, confusion written plainly across his face.

“I am. In silence,” Gale says firmly. Astarion rolls his eyes. Wizards. Tav looks back at them and Astarion sees a clear flash of hurt flicker across her face. His stomach plummets and he feels a sharp stab of hatred for himself, but this is what he has to do. If Tav is too weak to handle this excursion, if she’s too busy fussing over strangers to advance his interests, then he will find someone who will. It doesn’t matter how nice she’s been to him. Or how well they get on. His literal skin is on the line. Unbidden, his mind conjures an image of what Cazador will do to him once he has him again and he grips the handles of his daggers until it hurts. Never again. 

Despite the bright, warm sunlight the wetland is eerie. There’s a marked stillness about everything that makes the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and stand. Astarion realizes that it’s completely silent: there isn’t a single note of birdsong, not a hint of animal life. A soft breeze ruffles his curls and he smells it: fresh blood.

“What’s that?” Shadowheart points to something up ahead just beyond a wave of marsh grass. Tav crests the small hill and stops dead.

Blood drenches the remains of what must have been a quaint little camp. The bedrolls are ruined, the linens stained beyond repair. The fire has long since guttered out, half-cooked sausages smoldering on the coals. Uneaten food and abandoned packs sit ripe for the taking amidst slick pools of coagulating blood. Curiously, there isn’t a single carcass to be seen. Tav picks her way gingerly through the mess, picking out a blood spattered lute from the wreckage.

“Care to play us a song?” Shadowheart jokes. Tav gives the instrument an idle strum and winces. “Not like this, it’s out of tune,” she quips. She slips the bloody lute into her pack and turns away, rifling through the soiled supplies. They silently join her despite the grisly scene. Times are hard and supplies are thin.

“What do you think did this?” Tav asks lightly. She’s trying to sound calm, but Astarion can hear the subtle strain in her voice. She’s scared.

“I don’t know,” Gale answers as he pockets some cheese. “But we shouldn’t stick around to find out.” They all murmur in agreement and quickly move on, picking a new path through the swamp. Whatever it was, it wasted all that lovely blood. 

For a while there is only the sticky slosh of their sodden footsteps through the muck. Astarion is sure his boots are ruined by now. Tav better buy him new ones. Then, the soft baa baaing of sheep reaches them. Sheep? In a swamp? The echoes bounce across the water in bright, distorted peals. Tav pivots them towards the sound.

The sheep are strange little creatures that toddle oddly over the grass. They almost seem sick. As Tav approaches them she bleats a loud, tremulous cry. One sheep baas back, a clumsy retort. Tav’s face stiffens and then reality as they know it melts before their very eyes. 

Rot assaults their nostrils as the grass beneath them withers and dies, sinking into thick, black muck. Warped, petrified trees spring from the ground to pierce the endless sky, which leeches to a stony gray. Fog begins to roll in, settling into an ominous haze that obscures what little they can still see. And the dumb faces of the sheep crack and splinter apart, revealing the hateful eyes of ravenous redcaps.

No one moves. The fey glares at Tav, fangs bared. Its companions size them up them but make no motion to attack. Tav takes a deep breath. 

“BAA!” She yells, her cry echoing impotently throughout the bog. 

The redcap’s face contorts. “Baa,” it growls back with barely concealed animosity. Tav strides confidently past the creatures and they all follow close behind her, Astarion giggling all the way. 

Once they are out of sight Tav’s self-assured composure collapses and she whirls to face them. “You saw that too, right?” She whispers, gesturing to the mire. 

“Oh yes, her spell is well and truly broken now,” Gale says. “A fancy bit of illusion magic that falls apart at the slightest inspection.”

“Almost like she wants it to,” Astarion says. 

“It’s an intimidation tactic. Lure in the fools but scare away those smart enough to see through her,” Shadowheart observes. 

“So which are we?” Gale asks.

“We’ve come too far to turn back now,” Tav says. Her brow is set, her jaw is firm. But her eyes dart about the swamp as if looking for an escape. “Unless you want to confront those redcaps again.”

“Then by all means, lead the way, Oh Fearless Leader.” Astarion gives her a mock bow and gestures forward with a flourish. Tav curtsies back, bending deeply at the knees and twirling imaginary skirts. But she swiftly brushes past him, her sweet heart rabbiting in her chest.

~

“Please Ethel, I just can’t eat anymore!”

Mayrina’s begging is getting on his nerves. Usually he likes it when someone other than him is forced to beg, but Mayrina’s whining is neither pretty nor amusing. It’s just pathetic. What else did she expect? She made her bed and now she has to lie in it. 

Tav seems to disagree. “You’re hurting her,” she says. “Do you treat all your guests like this?”

“She’s eating for two,” Ethel says contemptuously, her grandmotherly mask slipping. “But you should watch your tone, sweetie. That worm isn’t going to remove itself.” The threat is there, sharp and pointed. Mayrina snuffles loudly, drying her eyes on a handkerchief. Her hand rests protectively on her pregnant stomach. Tav eyes her, not completely cowed. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Tav asks Mayrina gently.

“Busybodies are not welcome here. I’ll talk about your wriggler, but that’s it. Last warning,” Ethel interrupts. Something in the atmosphere drops and Astarion can feel the vibrating hum of wild magic in his fangs.

“She is a pregnant lady in distress. We can’t just stand by and pretend she’s not here!” Gale insists, his quiet fury palpable.

“You’re making it worse for her,” Astarion hisses. Auntie Ethel will punish Mayrina for their insolence. He knows the signs. “Let’s not make trouble for strangers. We have our own problems.”  Tav hesitates, considering his words. 

“Can you really remove it?” Tav asks Ethel.

“Quicker than you can say ‘yes Auntie.’ What do you say?”

“That depends on the price.”

“And that depends on the job. But I like you, petal. For you?” Auntie Ethel pauses, pretending to think. “I’ll take one of your pretty little peepers.” 

Tav recoils in horror. “You want one of my EYES?”

“Don’t be precious. You have two, don’t’cha?”

“Absolutely not! The deal is off,” Tav says. Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Please Auntie, can I just-“ Auntie Ethel gives an irritated wave of her hand and Mayrina vanishes in a flash of green. 

“That brat has had enough pampering for one day,” Ethel says scornfully. “Well then. Best be on your way now if there’s nothing I can do for you. But you know where to find me if you change your mind.” The old woman smiles her mean, fey smile as she shows them the door.

“That was a complete waste of time.” Astarion whines as they descend the stairs to Ethel’s house. “Can we go now?”

“Mayrina is still in there,” Tav says. “We can’t just leave her to the mercy of a hag.”

“I agree,” Gale says. “If that’s how she treats Mayrina in front of guests, then Auntie Ethel must be something truly special in private.”

“This place gives me the creeps. Whatever we do, let’s just wrap up our business here quickly,” Shadowheart says primly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Unless one of you wants to trade an eye for a dubious cure.” No one seems particularly keen.

“Darling,” Astarion begins, “I know you want to play hero like in one of your lovely little songs, but this is none of our business. The girl’s already made her deal.” Tav chews her lip.

“I know, but she’s made a bad one. Auntie Ethel is clearly hurting her. I can’t just walk away without trying to do something about it.”

“And what do you intend to do exactly? Kill a hag?” Astarion scoffs. On second thought, that might be pretty fun.

“I don’t know! Maybe, if it comes to that.” Tav swallows. “Maybe we can make another bargain for her or something. But if we leave now then we leave Mayrina to her horrible fate, a fate which we accidentally sealed.” She pauses, takes a deep breath, then continues. “We killed her brothers. We murdered innocents who were just trying to protect their sister. They may have been the only family she has. If we don’t intervene now, then no one will. We owe it to them and we owe it to her to help.” Astarion scowls.

No one had helped him. No one had intervened for him. His family, his friends, his colleagues, and his lovers had all left him to rot. No one had stopped Cazador from doing whatever he had pleased with him. Why did Mayrina, a foolish little stranger, deserve mercy and not Astarion? 

“I agree with Tav. We can’t simply turn aside,” Gale says. 

“As our leader commands then,” Astarion sneers as they all trudge back up the rickety stairs to Ethel’s home.

~

Astarion had been in worse places than Auntie Ethel’s Tea House, but not many. Auntie Ethel was a woman who delighted in tormenting people, who offered them hope, then twisted her help into a grotesque punishment for her own sick amusement. Astarion knew her type well. 

The depths beyond Ethel’s fireplace were both a prison and a torture chamber, where Auntie Ethel kept her brutalized victims suspended in magical bonds. Tav reviewed each cell with her characteristic thoroughness, poking around where she definitely should not. Gale’s eyes roamed Ethel’s chamber of horrors with a grim, clinical eye that belied a deep fascination with her magic. Shadowheart remained quiet, silently cataloguing Ethel’s creations with disgust. However, there were moments where Astarion thought she almost seemed impressed. 

But Astarion was right: there was nothing they could do for the hag’s victims. Tav tried to approach the only conscious victim, an elf, who was huddled in a corner whispering to himself. Tav bent down next to him, speaking sweetly in a soft tone. “Mindflayer!!” He shrieked, curling in on himself in an inconsolable ball. Astarion wanted to feel smug but he only felt a hollow emptiness as they left his elven kin quaking in the mud.

They followed the grotto, pushing past Ethel’s magic door and into a fetid, overgrown tunnel that spiraled into stinking depths. Clouds of poisonous fumes lingered in the cavern, choking them as they carefully picked their way forward. Eventually the tunnel opened up into a subterranean cave that shimmered with the light of bioluminescent stalagmites. Thick, twisted roots wound their way throughout the cave. Above them, a rotten cage hung suspended over a black abyss. Inside, Mayrina hiccuped and sobbed.

“You come into my home, interfere with my business, and now have the gall to barge into my private playhouse?” Auntie Ethel shrieks, materializing seamlessly out of the shadows. The sweet grandmother dissolves and a haggard, spindly witch lurches out of the darkness in her place. Her mouth gapes and yawns, her numerous teeth shining like terrible needles. “I’ll rip your spine out your arsehole!” She screams. Tav shoots Astarion a look and he nocks an arrow in his bow. “I’ll spice your blood to make my stew!” He pulls back the drawstring. “I’ll-" He lets the arrow fly and it strikes true, skewering Ethel where she stands. 

“You little shits!” She snarls, bilious blood gushing from her wound. The hag unravels and splits into dust. How easy, Astarion thinks.

“You want the girl so bad, take her!” A disembodied voice screeches as Mayrina's cage explodes in flame. Four new hags rematerialize from the darkness, each one of perfect copy of Auntie Ethel's hideous form.

“We have to act fast!” Shadowheart cries. Gale conjures a deluge of water, quenching the flames as a rush of black smoke fills the cave. They all cough and hack, momentarily blinded. Ethel strikes, clawing Gale across his abdomen. A sour, noxious scent fills Astarion’s nostrils as the wizard bleeds. Gale gives an agonizing cry, but rebounds quickly with a hard rap of his staff to the hag’s skull. The illusion unravels and splits, dematerializing back into the smoke. 

Meanwhile Astarion crouches down, easily blending into the smog. “Got some rat still stuck in your teeth, slave,” the witch whispers in his ear, her breath warm and rancid on his face. Ethel’s taunt hits him through his heart and he whirls around furiously, jabbing his dagger into any flesh he can. The mirage simply vanishes with an ugly chuckle. 

“There she is!” Shadowheart points across the chasm, unleashing a bolt of radiant magic into the air. This time Shadowheart strikes true and Ethel is sent reeling across the mossy floor. 

“Pretty clever, but not clever enough,” Ethel snarls. She gestures with her claw and suddenly Mayrina is cowering before them, transported from her wet cage. Her face warps and splits into multiple copies, an awful kaleidoscope of flesh. Each Mayrina cries and begs them not her hurt her. 

“I’m the real Mayrina!” One sobs. 

“Don’t listen to her, I am!” Another one chokes out.

“Mouthier than an arse and twice as full of shite,” Tav bellows. Ethel’s mask slides away as she recoils from Tav’s mockery. The real Mayrina collapses to the ground in a fit of hacking sobs. Astarion lunges towards the hag, putting his full weight behind his dagger as he plunges it into her stomach. 

“You’re one thirsty night away from betraying everyone!” She screams, ripping Astarion off of her. Astarion stumbles back and falls to the ground, his daggers clattering out of reach. Her words fill him with a torrent of awful emotions: rage, shame, despair, recognition. If he unpacks it all now he may die. 

Gale blasts the witch with Magic Missile and she severs herself again into three more copies, the real Ethel dissipating into invisibility. Suddenly Astarion’s limbs wrench themselves outwards of their own accord, locking him into place. He tries to fight it, but he’s trapped within the grip of a Hold Person spell, expertly cast by one of the hag’s shadows. He watches in frozen horror as another shoves Gale, who teeters on the brink of the pit. Shadowheart hurls flame at yet another, missing the hag by centimeters. A hag lunges at Tav, rending her open with its wicked claws. The enticing smell of Tav’s spilt blood fills his senses and he thrashes desperately in his magical bonds. He’s pathetic, helpless to do anything as they’re all slaughtered. 

Gale rallies himself and casts another round of Magic Missile, aiming his projectiles towards each individual apparition. The phantoms all shatter on impact, releasing Astarion from his magical bonds. He falls to his feet, snatching up his knives. 

Clutching her bleeding side, Tav pivots sharply and casts Faerie Fire, throwing the spell as widely as she can. The pink light of the ring illuminates Ethel’s hideous face, her invisibility spell broken. Shadowheart raises her hands for the coup de grace, necrotic energy sizzling in her fists. 

“Wait, lovelies,” Ethel gasps. “Killing me is a waste of time. I’ll find a way to return. Always have, always will.” She licks her thin lips. “But it’s unpleasant. So let’s be civil about this. After all, I have something you want.”

“Hah!” Tav barks a laugh. “This should be good.”

“Just wait until you hear my offer,” Auntie Ethel purrs. “Let me leave with the girl and her babe and I will give you power!” Her claws begin to shine with the sickly green glow of her magic. Now Ethel has Astarion’s full attention. “You want to be smarter?” She looks at Gale. “Wiser?” She turns pointedly to Shadowheart. “More dexterous?” She gestures to Astarion. “More charismatic? Done! It your choice, sweetness.” Well, well, well, what a delicious turn of events. 

“If you want your worthless little life, you’ll give me everything,” Tav orders, her voice like sharpened steel. “I want the girl and the power.” She advances on the hag, placing the blade of her rapier against Ethel’s bobbing throat. The air crackles with psychic energy, wreathing Tav in a vicious violet halo. 

“You greedy little shite,” Ethel sneers, sizing her up. There’s a moment of terrible stillness. 

“Fine.” 

Ethel reaches up to her oily scalp. There’s a wretched tearing sound and the hag hurls a chunk of something wet and hairy at Tav’s feet. It glistens in the muck. 

“But what about our deal? What about my husband?” Mayrina pleads. Her bloodshot eyes are ringed with smeared kohl.

“Deals off you dumb cow! And you have this one,” Auntie Ethel jerks a thumb at Tav, “to thank for it.” Mayrina rounds on Tav, rage flashing in her eyes. “But not to worry,” Ethel continues, “I’ll find another one just as plump and ripe. People always need lotions and potions,” she smiles wickedly.

“Good luck, auntie.” Tav jeers.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” She gestures to the sickening clump of skin, “It’s only the deal that counts,” Ethel replies. “Bye, bye, petal. I’ll not soon forget this,” she threatens ominously. Ethel disappears for good in a flash of foul green light. 

Tav bends down and plucks the slimy piece of hag scalp from the cave floor. Astarion considers her, regarding her with dark appraisal. She’s soft, but she has an appreciation for power and an eye for opportunity. Potential. He remembers how fascinated she had been with the Necromancy of Thay. Maybe she just needs some of his guidance. Some shaping. Together, they could take so much more than magical trinkets. Perhaps this hadn’t been a waste after all. 

“You miserable bitch!” Mayrina howls, rounding on them all. “You’ve ruined it! You’ve ruined everything!”

“We saved you from a hag!” Tav yells back, incredulous. “She was mistreating you, we all saw it! Aren’t you happy to be free again?”

“I don’t want to be free! I want my husband back, alive and well!” Mayrina wails. 

“Ethel was never going to help you. I’m sorry Mayrina, but it’s the truth,” Tav replies adamantly.

“Yes she was! Soon my child would have been born and this nightmare would have been over!”

“I’m sorry, your child? You were going to give your baby to the hag?”

“Don’t you dare judge me!” Mayrina hisses. “I have nothing. My baby would have been raised in rags. This is the nicest dress I own.” She gestures to her filthy emerald shift. “Ethel would have given my child a good life. Taught them magic, even! More than I could have done.” Mayrina leans against a gnarled root, sagging in defeat and despair. She places a hand on her abdomen, rubbing soothing circles on her swollen stomach. She seems so young. 

“No she wouldn’t have, Mayrina. Hags never truly give you what they promise.”

“I didn’t bloody ask you!” Mayrina shouts, incensed once more. “Now I’ll never see my husband again. And I’ll have to drag his coffin and our baby back to our empty house through the mud all by myself! I hope you’re fucking happy!” Mayrina storms away, disappearing with her unborn child into the overgrown tunnel and up into the world. 

“Did we do the right thing, or did we just ruin that woman’s already miserable life?” Tav asks. She’s caked in dirt and blood. She doesn’t seem proud or heroic, she just seems tired. 

“Well, what’s done is done,” Astarion offers. “There’s no point dwelling on things you can’t change now.” 

Tav sighs. Astarion knows that she feels responsible for this mess, but in his experience it’s better to simply not reflect on things. If you don’t reflect, you don’t have to feel.

“Grief can be a bitter wound. It’s too fresh now, but once Mayrina has time and space to think she’ll see the great service you did for her,” Gale says soothingly. “With our help, of course.” Gale doesn’t wink, but Astarion can feel it in his smug voice. Tav smiles weakly back at Gale and Astarion almost pushes him into the chasm himself.

“It’s true. Most don’t see loss as a gift at first. But in time, those that accept my Lady’s blessings will find comfort in her embrace,” Shadowheart recites.

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” Tav sighs. Shadowheart says her lines dutifully but Astarion can see, perhaps clearer than the others, that her eyes are far away. 

“Besides,” Astarion chimes back in. “Just look at the delicious little snack you have now.” Lice skitters across the scalp, disappearing into the dirty hair. 

“Yummy,” Tav says flatly. 

“Unless of course, you’d rather give it to me?” Astarion pouts playfully. He’s joking, but he would also snatch the horrible scalp up in a heartbeat. 

Tav bumps him with her hip. “No way, it’s mine! Go find your own,” she laughs. He supposes it was worth a shot. 

~

Even the putrid air from the foul swamp seems fresh after Ethel’s lair. Everyone is exhausted and covered in refuse. All of them need at least two baths. They begin the long walk back to camp when a particularly disgusting wave of air hits them. Everyone recoils, but Astarion recognizes the awful smell: ironvine. A monster hunter is nearby. His lip curls. A Gur.

~

Chapter 6: Found

[thatfreshi]

"He Can't Have You" (Astarion x Reader)

Seems as though Auntie Ethel doesn't go down without a fight, and that fight involves bringing out the worst in people's minds. (Also we get to see where the nickname Aster came from)

tw - mentions of abuse, panic attack

The Sunny Wetlands, later revealed to be a putrid swamp, have proven particularly difficult for Astarion. The last thing any of you expected was to find a Gur hunting him, especially this far from the city. It made your heart skip a beat, hearing the monster hunter utter his name, and you could feel the tension in the vampire. Thankfully, you did away with him quickly. By now, he's told you plenty about his past, at least as much as he could bear to tell. That haunting feeling though, knowing that Cazador was hunting him, it was paralyzing. As you searched for Mayrina, you and Astarion fell behind the rest of the group.

"Are you alright my love? I could tell them we should just set up camp for the night, rest up for dealing with the hag."

"Nonsense. What would I look like, asking everyone to stop for me? The Gur has been dealt with, let's just leave it at that darling."

"I cannot imagine dealing with the hag will be easy though."

"I'll simply run my blade through her like I do everything else. I'll be fine."

It hasn't been long enough with him to truly know if he's lying, but you certainly have a hunch. On the way back to the hag's house, Gale casts detect magic.

"She's definitely in here. We should be prepared."

Sure, she looked like a sad old woman, but those adventurers told you the truth, how she took their sister. When Karlach leads the charge, opening the door, she tries to look shocked.

"Oh dear! It's quite rude to storm into someone's house like that. Where are your manners?"

Without responding, Karlach throws her axe into the hag's shoulder, breaking the illusion, showing the monster for who she is. Covered in grime, like a witch born straight from the mud.

"It looks like I'll just have to teach you all how to be polite!"

Karlach tries to go for a second hit, but the hag teleports. Gale soon tracks her down, casting a ray of frost. Astarion follows her up the stairs while she tries to counterspell Gale. You and Lae'zel try to attack from a distance, missing because of just how quick she can move from place to place. Wyll has focused on assisting Gale, and Shadowheart is keeping track of all your party members, making sure to be there as soon as one of you takes a hit. In the meantime, she casts guidance on Astarion, who is fighting much more intensely than usual. Perhaps killing the Gur wasn't enough, and the anger was still boiling inside.

"Alright little mosquito, you want to be a thorn in my side? Poor decision."

The hag disappears from sight, and Astarion stops in his tracks. At first you think nothing of it. It almost looks like he's searching the room for where your enemy landed. For him though, the hag has cast a strong illusion, preying on his worst fear: being back in Cazador's grasp. The teahouse has transformed into the kennels, cold stone on bare feet, blood spattered across the walls.

Well, well, well. Seems as though the boy never learns! Perhaps, this time, will set you straight.

He hears the voice of Godey taunting him, threatening to pull him apart again.

"No! No, I left- I left, I was free!"

It's at this moment you realize he's not here, not in the mental sense.

"Focus on the hag, I'll try to snap him out of it."

You order the rest of the group, and they nod without a word, searching the teahouse for where she's gone now. You run up the stairs, finding a trembling pale man who has dropped his daggers.

Deep down, you like bein' leashed, don't ya?

The words bounce around in his head, a vision of Cazador appearing. You try to shake him, to mentally connect him back to his body, but it only plays into the illusion more, your actions becoming Cazador's.

"Astarion! Astarion it's just a spell, it's not real. It's not real my love, please."

Soon enough, your group finds the hag again, disrupting her concentration, releasing her grip on the elf. His breathing is terrifyingly fast, and he takes a moment to come out of the vision, grabbing a dagger from the floor and very quickly brandishing it towards you.

"DON'T."

You're trying desperately not to cry, because you know he doesn't need your shared sadness right now.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just me, Tav."

You lightly touch the hand holding the dagger, and he loosens his grip. Your hands move to take the blade from his grasp, setting his weapons to the side.

"I... I was there. I was back there."

"I know. Seems as though Ethel knows more than she should."

Astarion is still trying to root himself back in reality, you blood still racing in his dead veins.

"I can't go back Tav. Please, I can't go back."

"I know. I won't let you end up back there, ever."

He's still weary of physical touch, so you simply rub across his knuckles, trying to ground him in the moment. Your deepest urge is to wrap yourself around him and never let go, keep him in a protective case where no one can ever hurt him again, but that's not real. Being entirely safe isn't real. But damn, do you wish it was, for his sake.

As you're sitting there with him, the group makes their way back.

"We lost her. Have a feeling she went deeper into a cave somewhere."

You eye Karlach, and the two of you come to a silent understanding as you hold onto Astarion's shakey hands.

"We'll go set up camp where we entered the swamp. Take your time."

And with that, the tiefling takes the rest of your companions out of the teahouse, leaving the two of you alone.

"Why?"

You turn to look at him, cocking your head slightly.

"Why what?"

"Why would you say you won't let me end up there again? Cazador isn't some being you can simply keep me from, he's... different."

"I don't care."

"What do you mean you don't care?"

"I just, don't care. I don't care how powerful he is or whatever abilities he has, he can't have you. He just can't."

You finally do tear up now, not sure how else to explain it to the vampire.

"He most definitely cou-"

"No."

You try to blink the tears away, feeling the little callouses on his palm from over the decades.

"I want you to know what it's like to belong to someone in a pure way, not for personal gain, but just because they need you. And now that I have you... I just need you. I need you Astarion, so he can't have you. I'd die before he could take you from me."

He's silent for a moment. All forms of ownership he's known have been terrifying. Whatever could you mean by belonging to someone in a pure way? How can you belong to someone innocently? Your tadpole senses his concern, connecting without much effort at all.

"I don't need anything from you. I don't need you to do anything for me, I just need you Aster."

He smiles a little.

"Aster?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I had just been thinking about it. If you don't like it-"

"No I- I love it. Aster. Like the flower?"

"Yeah."

Somehow, the teahouse is peaceful in this moment. You feel young all over again, like you've never been in love before, like Astarion is the only being you've ever known. He interrupts your thoughts.

"Thank you, for saying all that. Maybe I wouldn't mind belonging to someone without expectations. It sounds, nice."

His voice cracks on the last word.

"Well, Aster, then you can belong to me as long as you'd like."

You swipe a piece of hair behind his ear, looking for a reason to get close to his face. As if the fates knew it to be true, you lock lips, despite the horrific smell outside and the creaking wood of the floorboards, you're somewhere else. Some place where the asters bloom in peace.

[astarion-approves]

Astarion resting in the evening with a reader with chronic pain/disability pain??

Literally your writing makes me so giddy ❤️✨✨ kudos to you OP for being fantastic as descriptions and dialogue!!!!

Astarion x GN! Tav with chronic pain

Safe for work, chronic pain, gender natural reader, 3rd person, 900+ words, SPOILERS ACT ONE, short and sweet, slightly OOC Astarion, no beta, (I DON'T have chronic pain so my apologies if this is way off the mark, I hope you enjoy it.)

Read below or on AO3

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

Another fireball hits your shoulder, nearly knocking you to the ground from the force of it. The other party members glance in your direction, just making sure you haven’t fallen from the attack. The Hag’s wicked laugh rings in your ears as she continues her fight, gusts of wind and more flames flying towards you. 

Your body aches, the meat of your muscles shaking, each movement like a million blades being stabbed into your skin. It takes all of your effort to keep standing, each attack from Auntie Ethel bringing you closer to your knees. 

Shadowheart defends against her, casting a quick healing spell in your direction – just enough to keep you on your feet. 

For now. 

As Gale and Shadowheart chase after the Hag you will your body to move, to follow along with them and take her down. Your breath is unsteady, pain shooting up your limbs and to every joint in your body. 

“No,” you mumble, stumbling forward but managing to keep yourself standing. “Not now. Please, not now!” A flare up, the never ending pain that curses you each and every day. Something that even the tadpole can’t remove from you. Fire licks up your spin, the pain spreading and moving to control you. You fall to your knees, reaching out towards Gale and Shadowheart as they land blow after blow onto the powerful Hag. 

And you can do nothing but watch. 

You clench your jaw to keep yourself from screaming out in agony, to keep yourself from cursing the God’s that gave you this cruel fate. For what kind of God would ever deliver upon you the work of a Devil? You’ve made no sinful deals, no murder of the innocent, earned no curse from the evil that wanders in this world. 

No–

You are simply doomed with pain that you can never evade. Pain that will chase you and consume you for the rest of your days. 

“Tav,” Astarion is next to you, his hand on your back, sweeping up and down your spine with as much gentleness as he can muster. “Are you alright?” 

You shake your head, the battle carrying on just in front of you. Shadowheart cries out as she’s hit in the stomach, Gale jumping to help her off the ground just as another ball of fire is cast in their direction. 

“Astarion–” you gasp as the pain takes over, finally pulling you into the ground. 

Astarion shushes you, his hand leaving your back and instead carefully lifting you from the ground and into his arms. He rushes from the battlefield, placing you down behind a thick tree truck, a soft smile across his lips. “Now, you just stay right here. I will be right back after we’ve taken down this nasty little Hag. Rest.” 

And then he’s gone, the twang of his bow being shot over and over lulling you into a deep sleep. 

—-----------------------

You wake with a groan, blinking your eyes as you stare up into a deep red fabric that hangs above you. Slowly, you sit up, hissing at your body stings all over. You look around you, books thrown about and a large assortment of pillows all over the ground. 

Astarion’s tent. Then that means– 

“Ah, no, stay right where you are,” Astarion said as he waltzed into the tent, carrying a bundle of fabric in his arms. “Lie back down, darling; before I make you.” 

“The battle–”

“Is over, and we all survived. Goodie.” 

“Mayrina-”

“Alive and well. Now, hush,” Astarion said and gently pushed on your shoulder, forcing you to lie back down. He sat down beside you, opening the fabric he held before and revealing a large pile of ice. Astarion hummed as he laid a blanket over you and then began placing piece after piece of ice on top of you. 

“Ice?” you asked. 

“Hm, yes. What is the point of having a Wizard in our camp if he can’t conjure some ice for us?” 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Astarion raised a single brow at you, as if the answer were obvious. “You’re in pain, are you not?” 

“Well, yes–” 

“And while that Hag was a powerful creature, I know a fireball like that wouldn’t be enough to put you on your ass. Not normally, that is.”

“But–” 

“But, nothing.” Astarion sighed and poured the rest of the ice over your legs. “Honestly, Tav. Why didn’t you tell me you were in pain sooner? I could tell that morning, you know. The way you hardly spoke as we made our way into the swamp, how you grunted just going up the steps of that gross little house, and you sighed when we walked through the mud.” 

You looked away from him, ashamed. This pain, it was a weakness, one that you didn’t want the others to see… And now they all know. The fear of them leaving you behind was festering in the back of your mind. 

“I care for you,” Astarion began, grabbing your attention and forcing you to stare at him with wide eyes. “Probably… more than I should… since you’re keeping secrets from me.” He sighed and reached over, flicking you in the forehead. “So, the next time you’re in pain, just tell me. Please? I’ll carry you on my back if I have to.” 

You snorted. “I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“Nonsense,” he replied and waved you off. “Besides, it would just be another excuse to have you close.” 

“... So, you care about me?” 

Astarion laughed. “Of course I do, but don’t make me confess to you while you’re here lying in agony.” 

You pouted. “Astarion–” 

“Another time,” he whispered and leaned down, giving you a little kiss on your forehead. “I promise.” 

“Fine.” 

“Now that that’s settled,” Astarion held his hands up, wiggling his fingers. “Which foot should I begin my massage on?” 

[thedreamlessnights]

Give The Devil His Due - pt. 2

Gale x F!Reader

{part 1}

Warnings: Major BG3 Ending and Epilogue Spoilers. Mentions of death, the use of the Netherese orb, grieving and loss. Amnesia, self-hatred, guilt-tripping. Raphael being a dick.

Synopsis: Gale is back. He's real, and alive, and... he doesn't remember you. You should be happy, shouldn't you?

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hi all! Thank you so much for your patience as I got this chapter out. Life has been crazy, essentially. Apologies for the angst - next chapter will be happier, I promise! We'll also see more Gale then ♥

You must have sat on this balcony a hundred times in the past year. More, maybe. Sometimes, Tara curled up on your lap as you read a book, her purring a constant comfort. Other times, you fell asleep watching the ships sailing by and woke in the darkness.

The view was always beautiful, even in the storms. Crystal-blue skies against an aquamarine sea. Lavender sunrises that swirled with orange. Dark clouds, streaked with silvery flashes of light and the bone-shaking crashes of thunder. You can certainly see why Gale favored it. 

Until about two hours ago, it was a place of comfort. Now, it feels wrong. Or rather, you do. 

Every inch of your presence feels out of place. A transplant, neatly sutured into surrounding skin only to be rejected a year later.

The moments after you’d kissed him are nothing but a blur in your memory. The sheer, utter horror when he hadn't known you. Morena’s voice taking on an edge of panic. Your feet moving you away - anywhere, anywhere where you couldn’t see the look on his face anymore. 

You’ve been sitting on this balcony ever since.

Before today, thinking of Gale was painful. Every thought was a fresh shard of ice plunging into the warmth of your chest, slowly thawing - until a new wound came to start the process over again. But it’s different now. 

It’d be easier to deny this situation, to pretend that it isn’t really Gale in that room, but you know better. You know that it’s him, just as you know that darkness will follow the sun’s fading light and greet you with the shimmering stars. 

Gale is alive, and he doesn’t know you. 

Gale is alive, and every memory of him - his face, his words, your old life - feels like it’s rotting away in your chest. You’re grasping at every thought, determined to keep him from slipping away, but there's only so much you can prevent.

Even you have to admit, it’s better than you’d expected of a devil’s deal. You’ve spent the last year picturing all the ways it could go wrong, laying out the risks and estimating the reward. If I word things in a specific way, you thought, if I prepare for the loopholes, then perhaps I can avoid the worst outcomes.

But a part of you had always known that you could have ended up like Mayrina. Dragging around a corpse just to cling to that tiny scrap of hope that Gale might return. 

Gods, you could have had so much worse. Why, then? Why had Raphael let you have this? What more could he possibly want from you?

This isn't the first time you’ve felt this way. During your travels, Astarion had made a deal with Raphael to learn more about the scars on his back, and the only thing required in return was Yurgir’s death. You made a deal to bring back the one you love, and you’ve gotten it only at the cost of his memories. 

 Your soul remains intact. Gale still knows his mother and his tressym. He’s alive. That’s enough, isn’t it?

No, your heart says. No, it isn’t. But you’ll survive, as you always have. You’ve had worse than this.

Nearby, there’s the rustling of fabric. You know who it is, even before she speaks.

“I thought I might find you here.” Morena’s voice is gentle, as though she’s afraid she’ll startle you away, but it’s filled with a fullness - a radiant warmth you’ve never heard before. She gives you a reassuring smile as she approaches, then sits at your side and reaches for your hand.

Your throat goes tight.

“My darling, I know this was your doing,” she says. Her voice is measured, as well as her face, but the crinkling at the corner of her warm brown eyes - Gale’s eyes - bleeds the joy she’s trying to hide into her expression. 

There’s no point in lying to her. She’s much too perceptive for that. All you can manage is a small nod in response.

“It’s really him,” she breathes. Her voice is suddenly thin. Hollow, almost. “I always thought… if we could even get him back, he wouldn't be himself. But it’s him.”

Tears sting at your eyes, hot and unwelcome. “I know,” you say. Your voice chokes at the last second. “He doesn't remember me.”

“No,” Morena murmurs, “he doesn't.” She squeezes your hand, resting her other hand on your shoulder. The comfort feels more like pity, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You’d known, but the confirmation still hurts to hear. 

“What does he remember, then?” you ask, slow and careful.

Hesitation flickers across her features. The hand on your shoulder slightly tightens. “You have to understand, he’s still very confused,” she starts. “His memories are muddled, grouped together. It’s entirely possible more will start coming back, if you just give him a little time-”

“Please, Morena,” you interrupt, desperate with anticipation. It’s always the not knowing that hurts you most. The cruelty of your mind that swirls out horrors that needn’t be there. “I need to know. Is it - is it everything but me? A hole in his mind where I used to be? How much of himself did he lose?”

She sighs, and her expression crumples. “It seems to be a… specific loss,” she says. “A cutoff point, really. Everything before the Netherese orb is perfectly intact. Everything after, well…”

She trails off, and her silence says the rest.

It isn't only you, then. It’s everything else you know of him. The tadpole, the Absolute, the Elder Brain. His friendships with the others. All the months of travel, and every single experience you shared. Even his year of isolation in the tower has been lost. 

His abandonment from Mystra; her charge for his life.

Something cold and numb blooms under your skin, trailing from the nape of your neck down your spine. Your lungs don’t quite seem to fill with air.

You’d hoped he wouldn't have to bear the burden of remembering his own death, but this… counting the time after his death, two years worth of life has been all but turned to ash. Morena doesn’t know of it, and Tara only knows glimpses. Your precious memories of him only encapsulate a few months of his loss. Is he still the man you fell in love with?

The spinning under your feet is making it difficult to think. You need to speak with Raphael. You don’t even know what you’ll say to him, but at this point it hardly matters. 

For a moment, you’re silent, almost forgetting Morena is there. Then, you remember her presence and swallow hard, forcing yourself to breathe. “I don’t think we should… tell him about me,” you start. “All of this… it’s enough for him to take in already. I would only complicate things.”

She gently pats your hand. “Your kiss said more than enough enough,” she replies, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Gale is a smart boy. Believe you me, he’s already pieced it together. Aspects of it, at least.”

Gods, what had come over you, kissing him like that? If you hadn't been so impulsive - if you had just waited a little longer, this would have been much simpler. The split would have been clean. 

“Some time, then,” you land on. “I think it’s better for the both of us if I… if he - has time to process this. At least for now.”

Morena nods. “I can't pretend to know how incredibly difficult all of this must have been on you,” she says. “Whenever you need to come over, feel free. I’ll make an excuse for you.” 

She gives you a wink, then rises to her feet and places a kiss on the top of your head. “He’ll come back to you,” she whispers. “I know it.”

Her words linger long after she’s gone.

The moment you’ve stumbled your way home, you’re met with a burst of orange light in the kitchen. You don't bother looking for the source - the scent of cinnamon and honey in the air says enough.

“My, my. Whatever happened to our poor resident wizard?” comes Raphael’s voice, a few feet to your side. “How… unfortunate that he’s lost his memory, don't you think?”

You’re in no mood for his games. You toss your things to the floor and meet his gaze dead-on, staring daggers at him. “What do you want, Raphael?” 

“Tsk, tsk. What a temper,” Raphael purrs. “Aren't you satisfied? You got what you asked for. Gale Dekarios is alive and well. Of course, if you’re unhappy, I could always return him to the grave...”

You suck in a breath, attempting to dissipate your lingering fury. “I’m very happy,” you force out. “Thank you for bringing him back.”

Raphael eyes you, tilts his head, and finally sprawls himself out on one of your chairs. He trails his fingers along the table, then hums. “You know, of your ragged little group, I’ve admired you in particular. Such ambition. You could have dominated the brain, had you really tried.” 

He pauses, and his gaze seems to sear straight into your soul as he looks at you. “Tell me, why did you let Gale sacrifice himself? Were you afraid of yourself, little mouse? Afraid that, given the chance, you’d have taken the power you so desperately wanted?”

Your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily, the way they always do when your brain decides to relive this moment. No merciful sensory images to distract you. Nothing but sheer agony, even now, when he’s alive.

Fear. It’s what you remember most about that day. Regret had come afterward, but first it had been fear and exhaustion and pain. Stiff joints. Fatigued muscles. How in the hells am I supposed to go on like this? you’d been thinking. How can I defeat the brain on nothing but fumes?

And with the fear had come temptation.

The voice of the Absolute was always a siren’s song in your ear. It was a path to complete control, to security and safety like you’d never known. No more humiliation, no more fear, no more pain. Nothing unless you wanted it, you commanded it. Even as shame and horror bled in your gut, keeping you from sleep, you ached for it.

With every inch closer to the Elder Brain, the temptation had strengthened. An itch that you could not stand not to scratch. A whisper in your mind that grew until you could hardly hear your own thoughts. By the time you’d reached the brain stem, it was so terrifyingly potent that you were ready to lay down your sword and end the internal battle you were undoubtedly going to lose. 

Anything to stop yourself from going down that road and betraying your friends. Anything to stop the vision of 

And when Gale had offered to use the orb, it had all been so fast… even now, you can't remember saying yes. Only that he’d insisted, despite your arguments. Just as you’d wanted to save him, he’d wanted to save you.

The rest is blurry, but still there. His last words. The helplessness you felt as his magic overtook you, teleporting you and the others to safety. The all-consuming panic as you met with the reality of what it meant for Gale Dekarios to die, much too late to stop him.

A flash of light.

And then, agony that never ended. 

When the memory releases you, your body is stiff and heavy, and your cheeks are wet and raw. Your chest throbs. You feel as though you’ve been hit by a Thunderwave. At your side, Raphael’s face drips with false sympathy. 

“Is that what you want to hear, Raphael?” you ask thickly. “That Gale suffered because of me? That I’m the reason he chose to use the orb?”

Raphael leans back in his seat. “I want to know one thing, and one thing only,” he replies. “Is Gale losing his memory a cruelty, or is it a mercy?”

You're silent, but your lack of reply must say enough.

“Really?” he muses, rising to his feet. “I see it as a mercy. The orb must have been dreadfully painful to detonate, after all. Not to mention the fear he felt as he plunged the knife into his chest.” 

Raphael steps closer, and though he doesn't touch you, you can feel his presence on your skin. “How terribly alone he must have felt in those last moments,” he murmurs, his voice honeyed but sickening in your ears. “Yes. What a relief to have that washed away.”

He smiles, and the tension in the room finally breaks. “On that note, I must take my leave. I’d love to stay, my dear, but I’m a busy man,” he says. “Watch over the wizard, won't you? I brought him back just for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he snaps his fingers, and he’s gone. 

You buckle over and wait for the pain to pass.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Lethal Woman- Chapter 4 (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Background- You are a Nightmask Death Bringer who was kidnapped by a Nautiloid Ship. Along with 6 strangers, you search Faerun for a cure for the Tadpoles in your heads- before it’s too late.

Author Note- I changed up the backstory a bit because I finally made a Tav that I really love. I am going to post a picture of her- please remember that you can imagine yourself as whatever race, character, etc you want. This is just the character I envision as “Rowan”. (half drow with draconic sorcerer blood from your mother).

CW: Gore, violence, death, murder (JUDAS NO!)

Chapter Five

Chapter 4: Astarion

Auntie Ethel’s Tea house had been nothing short of a shit show.

Between the possessed fighters, mysterious exploding spores, and the museum of suffering- the groups morale was at an all time low.

The fight had been absolutely exhausting and Mayrina was not helping with her screeching the whole fight. Astarion had considered shooting an arrow at her cage and letting it fall into the abyss. Except, you kept his mind off of her plenty during the fight.

Astarion had stayed next to you in combat- you moved together to become a deadly duo. You both moved and dodged in the right ways so that the other person could move in close and keep the hag distracted. He enjoyed this little dance of yours and a part of him hopes that you’ll continue fighting this way together.

However, that is the least of his concerns right now. Astarion watches as Mayrina screams in horror as you resurrect her very deceased husband.

Astarion has to stifle a laugh as he looks at your face- your features twist into something resembling disgust and horror. Mayrina looks at you and you hold out the wand to her- dropping it gingerly in her hands. Mayrina walks away and leers at the party as she begins to storm off. You wave awkwardly.

“Uh, I hope you guys live a long life together,” you shout flatly.

“Darling,” Astarion pipes up, “I think that ship sailed a funeral ago.”

He hears you choke back a laugh as Mayrina shoots him a glare- he tries to suppress the victorious grin that threatens to consume his face.

Karlach’s belly laugh is contagious and Astarion can’t help but laugh along with her. You are trying so hard to keep a serious face while shamelessly giggling behind your hand. Gale, however, just pinches the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh. He spies Gale’s small smile as he takes in your laughter.

How oblivious, he smirks, Gale is quite smitten with you and you are not even aware of it.

Astarion takes the chance to wink at you. He watches as a nice shade of pink dusts your cheeks and the tips of your ears. He lets a seductive smirk pull at the corner of the lips as you look away from him and try to help Karlach gain her composure.

Gale glares at him as Astarion flashes a shit eating grin.

He noticed the wizard’s affections for you a few days ago when Gale had been showing off his magic. Gale had been looking at you like you put the moon in the sky. You, on the other hand, had been fidgeting and tripping over your words during the entirety of the interaction. At first Astarion thought you fancied Gale, but when he had brought it up to you- you had looked at him with horror.

“No, definitely not.”

“Oh? You were so nervous over there darling, I thought you were going to practically melt into the ground from his affections,” he teases, trying not to let the worry find its way in his voice.

If you have fallen for Gale- what the hells was he going to do? How would he be protected? Would all the time he has spent developing a rapport with you be for nothing?

An unfamiliar emotion wound tightly in his chest- he was also fighting the little voice in his head that screamed at the idea of your attention being on anyone else. He enjoys the time you give him and he didn’t want to lose that time to Gale of all people.

You sigh, “No, I’m not interested in Gale- I just…”

He stared at you expectantly as you continued to avoid his stare.

“Dahlia didn’t really allow me to have social relationships. She said it would just be a distraction. The only real relationship that I have had and can truly remember was with Tessa.”

“Who is Tessa?” He blurted out.

He had been dying to ask since the night of the fire, the night you had run through the woods after crying her name in your sleep.

You looked at him sadly, “Just someone I loved. We dated for a while. From the age of like 13 to 16 years old. Dahlia didn’t like it so she killed her. Let’s just leave it at that for now.”

“Astarion?”

He snaps out of his head as you look at him with your hand on your hip- a quizzical eyebrow raised. He regains his composure and nods as if to say that you have his attention. You roll your eyes before flashing him a grin. He feels his chest squeeze tightly.

“Alright, you guys can go up ahead, I wanted to check out something really quick.”

“Do you want me to go with you, Soldier?”

You shake your head, “No, it shouldn’t take too long, I just didn’t take enough time to look at the Hag’s lair is all.”

Karlach and Gale seem content with this answer, but Astarion can tell you aren’t being entirely forthcoming.

As you part ways, Astarion slowly walks behind Gale and Karlach- waiting for your silhouette to be out of sight.

He stops and waits until Gale and Karlach’s voices fade away before following you. He snuck in between the bushes and the trees- not wanting to alert you to his presence. He knows you are more than capable, but a part of him can’t shake the uneasiness that fills up his chest whenever you leave.

The smell hits his nose first- metallic and sickly sweet. He scowls as his face contorts in disgust. Despite his better judgment, he keeps slinking forward. Your scent begins to intermingle and guide him to the source of the smell. He hears you voice and…

A man’s voice?

“So what are you hunting? Something exciting perhaps? Unfortunately, my companions and I have already killed the Hag, but you are welcome to pretend it was you,” you say, your voice sweet and flirty.

You are standing in front of a man- a Gur of all creatures. A low growl threatens to escape his throat as he watches the man eat up your attention.

“Nothing so dramatic. I’m searching for a vampire spawn.”

Astarion feels his whole body tense- if he had any blood in his veins, it would have frozen immediately.

If you were affected by what the Gur said, you didn’t show it. The confidence and sweetness looks so genuine on you that if Astarion didn’t know you, he wouldn’t be able to tell you were a socially awkward mess.

“His name is Astarion, but I fear he’s gone to ground. I was going to ask the Hag for help…” he says before offering you a pleasant smile, “but I’m sure I’ll find an alternative..”

You return his smile with ease. Astarion can’t see the emotions in your eyes, but the worry inside his stomach is beginning to rise up into his throat.

“So if you find this ‘Astarion’,” you start slowly with a hint of interest in your voice, “what are you going to do? Kill him?”

Why are you even asking that?

“No, I have orders to take him back to Baldur’s Gate,” he pauses, searching your face.

Astarion couldn’t see your face very well, but obviously something had changed.

“You wouldn’t happen to know this Astarion would you?”

The man’s eyes narrow as you pretend to think, tapping your chin with your index finger. A wicked smile adorns your face.

“For the right price I might.”

Astarion feels sick.

Maybe he has been misreading the situation the whole time. Maybe you had been tricking him and not the other way around. You got him to trust you by feeding him, spending time with him- getting to know him. He thought he was playing Chess while you play checkers, but obviously he was wrong. Your plan will succeed. However, your plan led to his death, not his salvation.

Astarion slowly reaches for his dagger- ready to jump both you and the evil Gur.

He watches as the Gur huffs in annoyance before pulling the coin purse from his pocket. Astarion shifts forward on his feet.

“It’s not much, but I-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. One of your hidden blades is buried in his right eye while the other is going up through the softness of his lower jaw, up into his brain. Astarion’s hand slips away from his blade as he slowly stands up to get a better view. You had certainly skewered the man- that was for sure.

“No hard feelings,” you say as you pull the blades from the man’s head- as you push him backwards.

The monster Hunter stares up at you, choking in fear as his own blood pools around him.

“I do know who you are looking for. Unfortunately, that means you are a complication,” you cock your head to the side, “by the way, you probably shouldn’t give people the name of your mark. Kinda leaves you open to being killed, but I guess you know that now.”

The man is hissing at you, trying to speak and you just stare at him until he calms down again.

Your smile is beautiful and cold, “Any last words?”

The man attempts to crawl away while his hands frantically reach for his belt where his weapons are. You step on his arm and Astarion hears the bones crack. The man lets out a gurgling groan.

“Well that was a bad choiceeeee,” you say in a sing-song voice before you unceremoniously dump a bottle of poison down the man’s throat- as if to add more salt to the wound, you pat his forehead and give him a cruel smile.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”

Astarion didn’t realize he was standing up, blowing his own cover, but he is too stunned by your actions to care. You had killed a monster Hunter for him.

The man is writhing on the ground for only seconds before he goes completely still. You let out a heavy sigh before looting him as Astarion continues to watch.

He hears you silently cuss as you dive into the man’s pockets. He hears you muttering something about a contract. Exasperated, you turn around on your heels and are about to walk when you stop dead in your tracks. You and Astarion stare at each other. The silence hangs in the air.

Your eyes soften when the initial shock fades and you give him one of your infamous lopsided smiles.

“I guess that Wyvern Poison from Nettie really works,” you chuckle, “I’ll have to let her know after the whole tadpole thing is taken care of. I can’t imagine she would be pleased that I used it for something other than its intended purposes.”

He wants to speak. He can tell you are waiting- he can practically smell the anxiety rolling off of you. Why you were anxious was beyond him. Why would he be mad at you? You just saved him for Gods’ sake.

When you realize he isn’t going to speak, you clear your throat.

“Well, let’s start heading back.”

________________________________________________

The walk home had been quiet and fast. Astarion watches as you collect your night clothes and head to the river to clean up. He pretends to be interested in the book he is holding as he contemplates the events of today.

His head is swimming with questions, but the one that bothers him the most is why. He hasn’t slept with you- hells he has barely even scraped the surface of his plan and you had brutally murdered an (arguably) innocent man for him. Astarion’s understanding of Deathbringers, specifically the Night Masks, don’t work for free and yet you haven’t asked anything of him.

There has to be a catch.

Astarion’s eyes shoot up from his book as you come walking into camp with Karlach on your heels. Your laugh sounds like music to his ears as Karlach does a crude impression of Mayrina and her husband’s future bedroom activities.

“Do you think it’s all still there? What if it falls off in side of her?”

Leave it to Karlach to ask the serious questions.

“Gods- do we even want to know?” Gale yells from his spot at the fire.

“My money is on it falling off,” Shadowheart says.

Quickly, the whole group is around the campfire besides Astarion. Everyone eats dinner while Karlach is enthusiastically describing the battle with the hag and the unfortunate end result.

Eventually everyone retires to bed. He sits on the edge of his seat as he watches you bid a quick good night to Karlach. You walk to your bedroll around the fire and just take in the flames. The agitation flares in his belly- you haven’t even made an attempt to talk to him since you got back to camp.

Oh to hells with it.

He gets up from his spot outside his tent and saunters over to the fire pit.

“Hello darling,” he says with his most charming tone, “this seat taken?”

You offer him a small smile and shake your head no. You turn your attention back up to the night sky. You both sit in silence like that for a while- Astarion pretending to read his book and you happily letting the flames warm your hands. Until the question bubbles up in his throat and Astarion can’t take the quiet anymore.

“Why?” he whispers.

“What do you mean ‘why?’” confusion paints your face as you lean towards him.

Why did you protect me? Why didn’t you turn me in? Take the gold? Lead him to camp and let him drag me away?

“I never thought I’d render you, of all people, speechless,” you say with a wide grin.

He can’t help but return your smile. He feels his eyebrows furrow as you give him your full attention.

“Why didn’t you take the money and turn me in?”

“Why in the hells would I do that!?”

Astarion winces at the aggression in your voice.

“Oh wait- no I’m sorry! I’m not-” you pause and take a deep breath, “I’m not angry with you Astarion. I just didn’t think you had so little faith in me.”

Despite your playful tone, he can still hear the hurt underneath.

“It’s not you- I just… I’ve never had anyone protect me before without wanting something in return.”

The sudden sadness in your gaze makes him squirm uncomfortably. The way you look at him makes him think you are peering into his soul- watching his secrets bleed through the facade he wears.

“Astarion,” his name falls off your lips like a prayer, “I don’t need you to do anything for me to protect you.”

Astarion’s eyes widen as he looks at you- searching for ingenuity, the lie. He never finds it, but he does find himself studying the planes of your face. Gods, you are beautiful. He won’t deny himself that truth, but the warm feeling in his chest makes it difficult to speak.

That pink dust pops up on your cheeks again as you notice his gaze. You look a little panicked and that awkwardness begins to appear.

You frantically follow up your statement with, “and besides, I feel like we fight relatively well together and we need all the hands we can get.”

Necessity- now that makes sense.

“Thank you,” the words fall from his lips softly, “no one has ever protected me before without there being a cost.”

Your gaze never leaves his- it’s his turn to look away with discomfort.

He continues, “I’ve always had to look out for myself so- thank you.”

Not even the sun could hold a candle to the smile on your lips.

“Of course Astarion. Don’t ever worry about not being protected- as long as you are with me, your chances of surviving are relatively high,” you contemplate for a second, “well unless you keep hiding Lae’zel’s daggers all over the place. I’m not going to stop her from retaliating.”

He let’s the warmth he feels dance across his features as he guffaws at you. That was another thing he had come to appreciate about you- it didn’t need to always be so damn serious.

“Darling,” he gasps, “I would never do such a thing. That is far too hilarious and I am a man of class.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Ah so Gale’s stretching mat just grew legs and walked off too then?”

He scowls, “if anything, I did us all a favor. Those ungodly groans at sunrise are enough to make an entire brothel blush.”

“Hm, apparently you haven’t been to very good brothels if that’s the type of behavior that embarrasses them?”

“Oh and you have?”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Hardly.”

He chuckles at the defeated look on your face and you stick your tongue out at him before settling back into your spot.

Astarion allows the overwhelming sense of calmness wash over him as he opens his book again. He attempts to read the first paragraph of the first page, but he can feel your eyes boring into him.

“Yes Darling?”

“What is the book about?”

Well that was unexpected. The last thing he thought you would want to talk about was his reading materials. Honestly? He had no idea considering he had picked up the book initially to look busy. He flips the cover over- “The World According to Bumpo”. Of course he picked the dumbest book to pretend to be interested in.

“I just started, but when I finish- I’ll let you read it-“ he says, “provided you give it back to me.”

“Oh, no that’s okay. Maybe you could just tell me about it?”

Astarion’s curiosity gets the better of him, “not a fan of the finer arts?”

You look at your hands and begin to pick at your nails.

“No, I just don’t… don’t really know how to read.”

Astarion wants to be surprised, but from what little he knows about this ‘Dahlia’character, it doesn’t shock him. Vampires will find any way to have the upper hand and you are very close to being as powerful (if not more so) than any vampires he has met.

“Would you like to?”

“Like to what?”

“ Learn how to read or-“ he clears his throat, trying to hide his insecurity, “or I could read it to you if you want.”

You perk up from your spot and cup your ear towards him, “I am all ears!”

He feigns irritation before he begins reading aloud.