#fem!tav

[pheonixgrave]

Safety

I saw a post the other day about Astarion watching Tav get railed by Halsin and this is what happened, I am so sorry :D

Warnings: Blood drinking, big Halsin, threesome, virgin tav is really into pain, service dom Halsin, sub Astarion, sub Tav, Astarion's poor relationship with sex, aftercare, oral, very large Halsin, set near end of act III

“Are you sure about this?” Tav sat on the edge of a private bed in Sharess’ Caress with Astarion sitting in a rather comfortable looking armchair facing her. He was lounging with a glass of wine in his hand. Just as she was clad only in a periwinkle satin robe that clung to her body.

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t, darling. Are you sure about this?” He could tell she was nervous. They had rented this room for one reason only. Privacy. While they had the rooms at the Elfsong, Astarion didn’t want the rest of their party listening in. 

“I want to, I’m just nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.” She chuckled, he knew. Of course he knew, why did she have to say it? Her nerves were starting to get the better of her. She tried breathing through it but her heart would not stop racing.

He smiled at her before rising to his feet. He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands, “Nothing is going to happen if you don’t want it to. And you do have me here, I won’t let anything go further than what you want.”

“I trust you,” she placed a soft kiss against his lips before smiling. “But I can’t promise this will go smoothly.”

“My love, nothing goes smoothly when you’re involved.” He kissed her again, “maybe I could help you relax just a little before he gets here.”

“What do you mean?” His hands started to wander down her arms, slowly reaching the tie that kept her robe together. 

Normally, someone of her station would have something longer, a little more regal. But this was not a regal situation. “Perhaps I can make you just a tad more comfortable.” With deft hands, he untied her robe. Gods, her freckled skin always made him catch his breath. But backlit by the sun setting outside, she looked like a goddess reborn. A perfect halo around her newly scarred body.

She only nodded, still embarrassed by the intimacy of it all. Her words may have been caught in her throat but her body obeyed. She spread her legs for him to fit between them. She leaned back on her elbows as he ever so gently pushed her back. “Astarion?”

“Shh, darling, let me.” He dropped to his knees. Holding her thighs open, he licked a long stripe against her cunt. She gasped but tangled her fingers in his hair. He only wanted to bring her to that edge and maybe prep her just a little. He made lazy circles around her clit while she writhed on the bed. It was his favorite dance with her. 

But before he would get too wrapped up in the taste of her, the doors swung open. To say Halsin was a presence was an understatement. And as soon as Astarion went to pull away to make room, the druid held him there. “Do not stop on my account.”

Tav immediately went to cover herself  and they let her, but Astarion’s tongue continued. This time encouraged by an audience, he buried his face in her cunt. Leaving no inch undiscovered, he couldn’t help but fuck her with his tongue. Tav tried to stay quiet, tried to keep her moans to herself. What she did with Astarion was filthy enough and adding the archdruid seemed so strange to her. She turned her face towards him and watched him slowly start to undress. He was so…large. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about being held by him. It was almost enough to distract her from the Rogue between her legs. Almost. 

She felt her orgasm wash over her as he gave her clit a slight nip. "Astarion!" She cried, giving his hair a harsh tug.

He let her ride out her high for a moment before standing before her, her legs still spread and her chest heaving. The golden rays of the sun surrounded her now. Her golden hair fanned out behind her and the flush of her skin was all Astarion wanted to look at. Dazed by her taste and how angelic Tav looked at that moment, he didn't notice Halsin turning him around to face him. 

Halsin wasn't one to waste time, not when it came to this. He held Astarion's face and smashed his lips against the smaller elf's. Tav could do nothing but watch the druid ravage him. It took her breath away to watch him pick Astarion up and drop him in the chair yet again. The two made eye contact for a moment. He looked positively wrecked. His face was far more flushed than usual and she could see how hard he was through his trousers. It made her cunt clench. 

Then he turned to her. "Astarion was right. You taste as sweet as any wine." If it had been possible, the bard would have even blushed even more. Halsin towered over her. She watched as he slowly unbuckled his breeches, her breath catching in her throat. The initial trepidation had been washed away with Astarion. Or so she had thought.

Halsin was big. Astarion was nothing to scoff at but Halsin was another creature entirely. She swallowed hard, "Is that even going to fit?"

He slowly started stroking himself, "It has before in much smaller."

"Gods," she practically whimpered, tossing her head against the pillows.

"Did you prep her?" His voice was so low and hungry. 

"I didn't have enough time, you barged in before I could really commit." Astarion sounded like a different person. He was far more whiny than before. He was feeling just as needy as she was. 

"Sit behind her." Astarion moved before she realized it, sitting against the pillows and resting her head resting on his chest. It dawned on her that he liked following his commands. She could feel how hard he was pressed against her back. "Good boy."

A shiver ran down the rogue's back as a light whimper escaped him.

"Now hold her just like that," he stood between her legs with Astarion propping her up. It took her by surprise when Halsin's thick fingers spread her cunt open. "Such a pretty girl," he murmured to himself before slowly slipping just one finger inside her. Tav writhed against the vampire spawn, silently begging for more. She tried to gain a little friction by grinding her hips against his hand. "Hold her, Astarion." 

It was a quick command but one he followed without thinking. He wrapped his arms around her middle. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, "Are you alright, love?"

She whimpered but nodded. She simply needed more. "Touch her."

His hands were quick to find her breasts. She arched her back into his touch as Halsin added a second finger and started practically pistoning his fingers in and out of her. "Gods!" 

"Good, just let go for me. You will have to cum around my fingers before I give either of you anything else." Halsin watched the two in front of him. Astarion might have needed this more than he had thought. And so did Tav. It was impossible not to find either of them attractive. It had been even more impossible to ignore that attraction. And now that she was laid bare in front of him with him behind her, it was almost too much. He silently prayed to the Oak Father for control.

Tav's moans got louder. Her hands gripped Astarion's shirt as he played with her breasts. She thought the attention Astarion gave her was overwhelming but it was nothing compared to the attention of the two elfs. “Shit,” she gasped as her cunt clenched around Halsin’s fingers. 

He removed his fingers from her, not hesitating to suck them clean. “If I did not want to take you now, I would spend hours just tasting you.”

She only whined in response, still coming down from another high. She never imagined herself as a plaything before. But she could scarcely think of little else than the two men using her body. The thought alone was nearly enough to push her over the edge again. She didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought. Halsin used his other hand to direct her face towards him. “Is this what you want?”

She nodded.

“I need more than that.”

“Yes! Just-”she whined, “please!” 

Halsin smiled to himself. They had jumped into this with little preparation or conversation and a part of him was worried it might be too much. He was already worried that giving Astarion commands would be too much yet he followed them so sweetly. The two of them were so eager to obey him. He held her thighs apart, taking a moment to watch her cunt twitch in anticipation before dragging himself through her folds. He groaned as he slowly pushed his way inside her. 

She cried out at the stretch. Gods, it hurt. Her face twisted from pleasure to pain. Astartion hushed her, gently stroking her cheek. “I know, darling, you have to relax.” She nodded, focusing on her breathing. 

Halsin stopped, gently stroking her thighs. “Are you alright?”

“Gods, don’t you dare stop now,” she nearly cried. Between a shady priest and Astarion, she had learned that pain was merely a motivator. 

It took patience and care, but eventually he found himself completely buried inside of her. She looked so small like this but so tight and hot. He leaned down to press a kiss against her lips. A kiss she eagerly returned, a hand threading itself through his hair. He broke away panting, leaning towards Astarion next. He could feel his fangs nip at his lips. Not intentionally, just silently begging for more. He braced himself standing at the edge of the bed, holding her thighs apart. “Are you ready?”

Another nod. This time, he didn’t make her talk, just gave a couple shallow thrusts. Those shallow thrusts slowly turned harder and harder until he was practically punching the air from her lungs. Without thinking, he grabbed Astarion’s hand and pulled it towards her clit. Normally, he was slow and teasing with his ministrations. But something about watching someone else fuck her into her own oblivion made him wild. Quick and purposeful circles around her clit combined with Halsin’s rough treatment had her back arching in almost no time at all. 

In a daze, Tav grabbed the back of Astarion’s head and brought him down towards her. She wanted to kiss him, to feel him too. Most of all? She wanted him to bite her. Once she broke the kiss, she bared her neck to him in a silent plea. Astarion looked at Halsin through his eyelashes. She wasn’t the only one who looked absolutely wrecked. 

The druid’s eyes were transfixed on her cunt swallowing him whole. His chest was heaving as he held her trembling thighs open. “Hells,” he whispered underneath his breath. He glanced up at the rogue, who was equally transfixed on his cock bullying her. “Say what you need, Astarion.” He growled, closer to his own end than he would like.

Astarion stroked her neck with the hand that wasn’t still circling her clit. "She's asking for a bite," he all but whined and pouted.

"By all means," he had never seen something like that. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't curious and if she was asking in the throes of another orgasm? Who was he to deny her?

Astarion adjusted so he could be closer to her neck, she didn't seem to notice. She could only moan and cry out nonsense. And then he bit her neck, right where her scars were forming at the juncture of her neck. 

Halsin watched her eyes roll back in her head as she scratched at the vampire’s thighs and created a vice grip on his cock. It was too much even for him, he tried to hold back, to let her ride out this high one more time. But he couldn’t. He pulled out right before he finished, coating her body in his seed as Astarion drank from her. He stood there for a moment, trying to collect his own thoughts. Astarion was running his hands up and down her body, making a mess on her stomach, her neck seemingly forgotten.

He dragged his fingers through Halsin’s seed, using the other hand to pry her mouth open. She sucked in his fingers without question. It was salty and earthy, she gagged at first but tried to lick Astarion’s fingers clean. And she swallowed every drop on his hands. If he wasn’t careful, Halsin would need another chance to bury himself inside her. Now that he’s had her, could he ever truly think of anything else?

Without warning, Astarion left her side, positioning himself at the edge of the bed once more. Only a fool would be able to miss the tent in his trousers. Halsin watched him lick every drop of his seed off her stomach while his hand found her clit once more while Tav looked at Halsin with pleading eyes. 

“Good boy,” Halsin’s hands wrapped around his own cock, watching the vampire clean the bard with his tongue. “Do you wish to fuck her too? I would hate for you to be left wanting.”

For once, Astarion had nothing to say. With clumsy hands, he stripped out of his clothes. Tav was far too gone to notice him shaking. But Halsin watched him bury his cock in her cunt and watched her nearly scream. He watched him fuck her with reckless abandon. It didn’t feel like the Astarion he knew. He walked behind him, running his hands down his arms. “She is not going anywhere, sweetling. You are safe,” he whispered into the vampire’s ears. 

His grip on Tav tightened while Halsin kissed his neck and rubbed gentle circles on his thighs as she reached He let him work out whatever he was feeling on her already abused cunt. Astarion came with a strangled cry. He collapsed on Tav, tangling his limbs with hers. The two laid there, completely spent and out of breath with tears pricking his eyes. Halsin felt his heart swell looking at the two. He smiled to himself before walking towards the washroom. Casting a spell to warm the water already sitting in the room’s tub. 

First, he scooped up Tav in his arms. She nuzzled against his chest and welcomed the warmth of the water. Next he swept Astarion in his arms and sat him next to the bard. It was a quick thing getting the two of them scrubbed down. Eventually, Astarion came back into his right mind and started scrubbing Tav’s hair. Tav, who was still in a dazed state, simply leaned against the much larger elf as the vampire helped scrub her body. For a while after, Halsin simply held the two smaller elfs as they curled against him and simply slept. He hadn’t expected to stay but he was more than happy to.

[anastoza]

I'm very normal about them..

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Slow Dancing in Circles

Ascended Astarion || Astarion x f!Tav || ao3 || Masterlist

Rating: M , +18 Word Count: +1.4k Warnings: Ascended Astarion, abuse, mentions of sex (dub-con?, no description of sex act), mentions of death, adult themes.

And so it’s just you and him going through the same old motions, following a routine of his design—you always do, these days. Or decades. Centuries? Who knows? Not that it matters, no. You’ve been doing this for a very long time. Agreeing. Smiling. Fighting. Fucking. Dancing. Crying. Blood. So much blood. Even when this ballroom is long dead, the Gate is still bleeding red—for you, he says. Always for you. 

a/n: said I wouldn't do AA content but I talk a lot, apparently. Written in a frenzy. Another not so edited work, because I'm playing around with my writing lately and also try to chill a little. And it's 3am, make of that information what you will.

The Vampire Lord’s hand is clasping yours tightly as you dance around his empty ballroom. There’s no music accompanying you tonight—there was once, but not anymore. You can’t say when it crept in exactly, the heavy silence in this grand room. You only know that the music faded gradually, once upon a time, so slowly that you only noticed its absence when it had long fallen silent. Not that it matters, now.

The Lord of the house and you—his consort, his bride, his little love—are the only guests this room has seen in years, but you still know the steps of this dance by your cold, undead heart. You’ve gone through these same motions thousands of times before, and still, the Vampire Lord insists on guiding you through them. It’s not that he fears you’ll forget your place in time—you can’t, because he seldom wastes an opportunity reminding you.

Follow my lead, little love, he purrs into your ear. It’s not like you could do otherwise.  

And so it’s just you and him dancing through a withering ballroom, old grandeur slowly crumbling under years of silence and moonlit dust. One step forward, two steps back. Left. Right. Left. Left. Spin. Back. Back. Forward, please? Back. Left. No, pet, start again. There’s no end to this dance, unless the Vampire Lord wishes so, and he never does. 

And so it’s just you and him going through the same old motions, following a routine of his design—you always do, these days. Or decades. Centuries? Who knows? Not that it matters, no. You’ve been doing this for a very long time. Agreeing. Smiling. Fighting. Fucking. Dancing. Crying. Blood. So much blood. Even when this ballroom is long dead, the Gate is still bleeding red—for you, he says. Always for you. 

You’re hungry, little love. 

Are you? You must be, because he is. The Vampire Lord is insatiable. And so you must be, too. It’s just another step of this dance. Drinking. Sucking. Waiting. Killing. Damning. Fucking. Blood. So much blood. Love…? Once, maybe. You can’t be sure. Not anymore. Not since your fangs have grown dull. Not since you’re dancing in empty rooms. 

There is no need for you to hunt, let alone starve—not when the Vampire Lord is providing for your every need. Has he ever not done that? No, you haven’t known a night of hunger in his house. How very kind. What would you do without him?

You should be grateful, little love. 

He’s right. There’s no need for you to prowl dark alleys. No drunks, no whores, no rats to taint your pretty mouth with. Only the very best for you, pet. So the Vampire Lord brings you a handsome virgin when you’ve been good, and you always are for him. Gifts you an elf that has seen so many centuries, they’re carved into their beautiful leathery skin. Lies down a girl before you whose belly is so swollen with child that you can’t tell one heartbeat from the other. Their blood is calling to your instincts. You urge to pierce their skin with your fangs, but—  

We ask before we bite, little love.

Yes. May you have some blood, please? Of course, pet, of course! A feast just for you! Who else would it be for? Who else would matter as much as you do?

Come, eat right up, little love!

The moment your food arrives in your chambers it’s pale-faced and stupid with mortal agony. You don’t particularly like that. Their blood has an odd taste to it when the servants had to wash piss and shit off their fear-paralysed bodies right before serving them to you. They’re still alive but stink of death; it’s distasteful. Pitiful. You hate the way they look at you. But you don’t tell the Vampire Lord that. It would be ungrateful, wouldn’t it? 

I said eat, little love.

And doesn’t he feed you so lovingly, even when you reject his generosity at first? You don’t even need to use your own fangs to rip out their throats, he’s angry enough to do it for you. All you need to do is drink. Consume. Live. Please, even if you don’t want to. Listen to skin ripping and bone breaking. Screams fading into music fading into silence in the once-grand ballroom. Life fading to dust. 

The Vampire Lord knows you prefer the ones that are already half-drained of life when they’re brought to you—he knows everything about you. You like them better because they don’t move. They don’t scream. They don’t go through the same motions over and over and over again. All they need to do is die. They’re as good as gone when the Vampire Lord takes the last of their blood in his mouth, pulls you into a heady kiss. They don’t know that their essence drains from his mouth into yours, down your throat, and all you need to see are glassy eyes when the hunger you haven’t even felt has finally been sated. 

Good girl, little love, you’re so very good for me.

You wish you had been more like them, once upon a time, already gone instead of being consumed by fear. Stupid with love. Giving what wasn’t yours to give. Back then—when was it; does it even matter?—when your hands hadn’t yet been drenched in the blood of countless souls. Back then, when all you wanted was to protect the man you…No, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Even thinking like that is very bad of you. And yet, the Vampire Lord already knows of your wish. He knows it so well that you’ll never find the words to tell him of it yourself. He doesn’t want to hear of your wish, so silence remains. And it doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

I need you, little love.

The Vampire Lord fucks you the same way he dances with you—slow, but firmly. Holding you as close as your bodies allow, lest you vanish into one of the many empty rooms in this grand eroding house. That’s when you love him most. This body inside you is the only thing that still feels like him—the man you loved, once upon a time. Always. What was his name again? He had a silly laugh, you remember, and he was so very sad. Scared. He loved you so much.

Nothing feels as good as you do, little love.

The Vampire Lord plunging into you isn’t scared, nor is he very sad. He’s long over such mortal whims. He’s frantic, though, most of the time. He thinks he’s hiding it, but you went through the steps of this dance so many times that you can glimpse past the mask. He loves you still—his consort, his little love, his prisoner. 

Not that it matters, because it’s just him and a shadow of yourself dancing in a crowded ballroom at all times. Seven thousand damned souls are tugging at your skirts, you can feel their grasp as much as you can feel the Vampire Lord clasping your wrist, his nails digging into your skin. They’re one and the same, death and him. 

Follow my lead, little love. Follow my lead.

The Vampire Lord drags you over ash and bones and blood, so much blood that it makes your head spin. He’s a puppet master pulling the strings of all that’s dead and he won’t ever let go of you—you can tell by the smile on his face that doesn’t reach his all-seeing eyes. It never does. 

You want to hurt him. He knows.

What is it, little love?

You hate him. That man who stole your lover, once upon a time. No, you have to admit that’s not quite right. You were there, too, after all. You’d given him the dagger and then held down your lover as the Vampire Lord stripped himself of the man he was before. You two killed him so very thoroughly, except for his body there is nothing left, now.

“I love you,” is all you can say. They’re not your words, not anymore. 

I know, little love, you always will. 

Sunlight is breaking through dusty old curtains. The Vampire Lord spins you dangerously close to the soaring heat reaching for you. Why doesn’t he just let this house go up in flames? It would be no trouble. You always burned so bright, once upon a time. It would take but a moment.

But burning isn’t part of this dance. Left. Death. Back. Hatred. Back. Eternity. Spin. Tears. Right. His name started with an A. Right. Aeterna amantes. Forward, please? Lovers forever. No, pet, start again. There is little love left, but, as you’re slow dancing in circles through this tomb, you know that eternity has only just begun. 

[scvlly]

my tav and shadowheart are getting along pretty well..

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter One

(AO3 Link) | Master List

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You). F/M.

Word Count: 2100 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, Tav w/tragic backstory, graphic violence, domestic fluff, camp life, Tav has no magic/fighting ability, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT).

WARNING: Contains graphic descriptions of violence and gore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One - Intoxicating

“Fucking-... Piece of-... Ugh!” Your fingers burn from the friction of wrestling with your chain. You let out a guttural growl as you fall back, flat on your arse in defeat. Yep, you’re definitely stuck. The cuff makes your ankle itch and the chain doesn’t seem to have weakened. Panting, you search your cell for some form of escape to no avail. Just in the cold cobbles beneath you and the bars that cast lengthy shadows on your bruised body. Your clothes are tattered and ripped, if you can even call them clothes anymore. They leave your injuries from your perilous journey here on full display. The last thing you remember was falling, then… Floating? Then black. Now, there’s goblins everywhere and your head hurts… A lot… It really, really hurts actually…

The room begins to spin as you focus on the sensation, then you remember the creature that lives behind your eye. You shiver at the thought as the room pulses around you. It’s searching for… something? It searches for… it’s own kind. You sense it’s kin nearing your cell. The creature writhes in your skull, burning your eyes from the inside. You cry in pain, holding your head to prevent it from coming apart. “This, is the human?” A raspy, deep, feminine voice commands. You squint, attempting to pierce your vision through a wall of warped pulsations. “Y-yes ma’am. We found her by the crash site.” Another voice responds, full of gravel and apprehension. Whoever he’s speaking to, he’s afraid of her.

“Hmm… Interesting.” Your creatures connect and you feel an overwhelming urge to open your mind to the intrusion.

You see her silhouette: Thin, tall and armoured. Then, her wisteria skin and light blonde hair comes into focus. “Welcome home, True Soul.” You do not see her mouth move, nor hear the words through your ears. Instead, her voice echoes in your mind. She pokes and prods at your thoughts, prying open your defences and harvesting your memories. She smiles and pulls out of your mind abruptly once satisfied. You gasp for air as the pain finally subsides and you crumble to the floor. “It will get easier.”

“Wh-what is this? I don’t-” You speak through tears.

“Shh. It will become clear soon enough. The Absolute has plans for you. For us all.” Her words almost sounded like comfort, but there’s something wrong. When she dug into your mind, it left hers open to you. She wants something.

She scans your deteriorating rags, then glares at the goblin by her side who shivers under her gaze. “Do you have no sense?! No respect?! Find some clothes for her. Now!”

“Y-yes Minthara! Sorry! Er-” He dashes away and returns moments later, bundle in hand, he slides it through the bars, shaking.

“Thank you…” You reach for it hesitantly.

“Once she is dressed, you will bring her to me.” She walks away.

“Y-yes Minthara.” The goblin responds. He flicks his eyes back at you and gestures for you to hurry up. You nod and dress yourself, trying to conceal as much of your body as you can from the worried eyes of the goblin.

You smooth down a dress made of various pelts over your wide curves. It wasn’t well made and it certainly could have been more modest, but it fit well enough and you were grateful for the change. The gate opens and the goblin hastily releases your ankle from the chain and pushes you forward. “Move.” You obey and walk in front of him, arms behind your back as he directs you through the camp by your wrists. As you move through what seems to be a lively party, all eyes are on you. Some goblins jeer and make obscene gestures, others inspect your body from afar as they glug their ale. Choosing not to let this phase you, you dare to ask your guard a question: “What are you celebrating?”

“Raid. Good one.” Despite his bluntness and reluctance to reveal information, you hear the smile on his face in his words.

Eventually you make it to the inside of a large, run down, temple-like building. It seems the party stopped here. The grand architecture allows for various phrases, commands and even cries of agony to echo and bounce off the walls. Minthara is observing a map as you approach her. She looks up at you, briefly. “Better. Leave us.” You can’t help but admire her authority as the goblins scatter at her command. She looks back down and traces her fingers along painted roads. Curiously, you look over to find that the map contains no location that you recognise other than Baldur’s Gate. “Is this where we are?” You ask hoping that maybe you aren’t as far from home as you once thought.

“Yes. But I’m hunting for something that isn’t on this map, or any for that matter.” She doesn’t look at you as she speaks.

“That doesn’t sound easy.” You try to sympathise. Powerful allies are always useful, especially in situations such as this.

“No. Especially when all you have are dimwitted pawns at your disposal.” She spits disgust through her words, you nod and move closer to get a better look at the map. “In usual circumstances, I wouldn’t care, but I plan to make great use of you, True Soul. Your name, what is it?”

“Tav. And you are Minthara?” She nods. “You call me True Soul, what does that mean?” She grins with excitement as she gets to be the one to explain The Absolute, the tadpoles and your potential. She does so with a fierce determination in her eyes and a proud loyalty in her voice that speaks to the darker cravings of your mind. You consider that maybe this creature in your head isn’t so bad, after all. “And your hunt? Is it to serve The Absolute?”

“Correct.” She pauses to consider whether or not to reveal her intentions. “There’s a weapon. Powerful and well sought after. I am sure that it is being protected by a grove of druids somewhere in this area.” She circles a section of the map for you. “No matter how many patrols we have sent, they return with little information. Pathetic creatures.” She grumbles under her breath. Her eyes light up, she looks at you and grins.

“We have a prisoner. Though, I believe our… ‘interrogators’ lack a certain finesse. His lips remain tightly bound. I’m sure The Absolute would have a fine reward for the one who loosens them.” Her eyebrow raises as she eagerly awaits your response. Torture isn’t your usual expertise, but you can see in her eyes the excitement and even arousal at the thought of you shedding such blood for The Absolute’s cause. You deduce that her disappointment in you would have far greater consequences than the pain of a stranger.

“I understand.” Your eyes are wide as you accept this unsightly task. You stretch a smirk over your teeth in an attempt to match her enthusiasm.

“Excellent. Follow the screams, oh, and do not come back empty handed.”

You do as she commands, following the pleads for mercy until you find two goblins and a human tied to a torture device. You try to put on your most authoritative voice as you speak. “I have orders from Minthara. I’ll take over from here.” The goblins grumble, displeased with the arrangement as they open a space for you, directly in front of the stranger. You move into position and look up at him. His eyes are dry yet his cheeks are stained with tears, his cracked lips part as he whimpers softly. You approach, he scans you, unsure of your next move. And honestly, you’re unsure too. You’ve never been in a position to hurt someone, before now there was no opportunity for you to take. In fact, you have grown accustomed to the opposite, but this is different. This is… Powerful. Powerful in a way that makes your stomach churn and your heart flutter. A questionable, undefinable mix of want and need. You graze your finger over your canvas as he squirms. His fear is intoxicating.

Hot pokers sit in a brazier, you take one and hold it in front of his face, just close enough to singe hairs. “Where is the grove?” You ask him calmly, allowing the poker to emphasise the question for itself.

“F-fuck… Y-you…” His response doesn’t anger you, it frightens you. Your eyes widen as you build the courage to transform your threat into action. Your breathing becomes deeper as you try to submerge your hesitation. You muster as much command in your voice as you can, trying to hide your pleading. You do not want to hurt this man, no matter how intriguing this sensation is. “Where is the grove?”

He lets out a desperate whimper before feebly grasping onto his loyalty. “I s-said… F-fuck you.” The emanating heat travels from his cheek, down his neck, down his chest, stopping at his stomach. He gasps and desperately tries to wriggle away to no avail. You look into his eyes, searching for the key to end his torture, you find none. He screams in devastating agony, the smell of his burning flesh causes the goblins around you to salivate. You look down to find your own hand gripping the poker. Although you had prepared and felt it’s movement, somehow the choice your arm made surprised you. “Okay! Okay! Please! Stop!” You hold on a moment longer, examining the strange appendage before you as it shamelessly displays it’s power over it’s victim.

You pull away suddenly, your mind inhabiting your arm once again. The man splutters and cries, riding out the unrelenting wave of soreness. Regaining composure, you look back into his eyes. You yearned for the ability to communicate that he was not the only victim in the room, that you don’t want him to feel such pain. Then again, you suppose that would offer him little comfort. “Where is the grove?” The tears in his eyes obscure his vision until you are nothing but a blur.

“P-please…” By now he knows his pleas are useless but he continues anyway, using them as a mantra to calm himself through the pain. “No more… I beg of you…”

“Where is the grove?”

“No… I can’t be responsible for their deaths… I can’t…” In all the chaos, you hadn’t even considered the possible slaughter that Minthara had planned for the grove. If these druids are guarding this ‘weapon’, it is doubtful that they will hand it over without a fight. You can only hope that their forces are stronger than hers, for there is nothing you can do now, you need this information to protect yourself.

You spot a rusted dagger on the floor and swap it with the poker. The man flinches at the possibilities you now hold in your hand. You place the tip on the left side of his stomach, below the steaming burn. “Where is the grove?”

“No, I-” His defiance is interrupted by a shriek as the dull blade buries itself into his skin. You push. “Stop! Stop!” You look at his pained face, he looks at you, you need not repeat the question. You begin to drag the blade to the right, rust snagging on flesh, his blood leaks in irregular spasms, it is and isn’t pretty. He cries and looks at you in terror as he realises that you have no intention of stopping and his innards will soon be spilled onto the floor. He submits. He submits to you.

“P-please! I’ll tell you! Everything! Please!” You step back, removing the dagger from his body and releasing it from your grasp. Once he regains somewhat control of his breathing, he speaks again. “E-East… P-past the ruins and… The bridge. They c-covered the gate with ivy…” His head lolls in defeat and exhaustion.

You look around to find goblins staring at you in awe. Before any could compliment you on your twisted success, you nod and leave to report back to Minthara. She leans back and hungrily gazes at you as she processes the information: satisfied, impressed, fascinated. Before you know it, you’re travelling by her side, her army marching closely behind. She steals glances at you, noticing your beads of nervous sweat. You’ve never been close to a battle like this, and you’re really, really bad at hiding it. She doesn’t comment, just smirks and continues her pursuit. Together you head to the grove, to the weapon, to the East. Once again, you hope that they can handle what’s coming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter

[kitigai]

[elegantduelliste]

Epistles of Saints & Sinners

Ao3 Link

Summary:

“I believe we’ve come too far in this pitiful game of ours to stop now—ask it.”

Tav placed her chin on top of her knees, folding her arms underneath her legs. “Have you ever been in love?”

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

When Astarion meets the humble bard, Tav, he soon finds out he's the only one between them that knows they are bound as soulmates through their marks. Deciding it's more trouble than its worth, he refuses to tell her along the course of their journey across Faerûn.

But, unbeknownst to him and their companions, Tav is harboring a gruesome secret that she only thought was nothing more than a traumatized period in her life.

As they both come to face to face with their pasts and presents, will they choose to move forward or let it consume them?

Healing isn’t linear—after all.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

A retelling with a lot of flourish! Exploring the moments in between. Told from both Astarion and bard Tav's POV.

* marked chapters have smut

WARNING: I use religious imagery/symbolism for storytelling purposes only and it’s not a reflection on my thoughts or feelings towards them.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Pairing: Astarion x female bard Tav

Tags:

Soulmates, Soul-Identifying Marks, Enemies to Lovers, Falling in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Tension, PTSD, CPTSD, Trauma, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Blood & Violence, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Angst, Fluff, Retelling, Healing, Spoilers for all Acts, Vampire Bites, Smut, Tav with a Backstory, He Falls First, Slowest of Scalding Burns

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Chapter 1: Song

Chapter 2: Book

Chapter 3: Thirst

Chapter 4: Outliers

Chapter 5: Devils

Chapter 6: Ribbon*

Chapter 7: Beholden

Chapter 8: Questions & Commands

Chapter 9: Known*

Chapter 10: After

Chapter 11: Prey

Chapter 12: Hunt*

Chapter 13: End

Chapter 14: Tension

Chapter 15: Boundaries

Chapter 16: Dream

Chapter 17: WIP

[unreadpoppy]

Hi darling. Can I ask for soft Raphael? To help you a little I am giving you few prompts. You can use only one and if you are brave enough all of them :) *pearl necklace *bow - tie *swan

Hi anon, thanks for the request! I ended up only doing one of the prompts kkkk. This fic was very much inspired by @reallyhatethiswebsite fic, ‘Creature Comforts’ (go read it, it’s amazing!) and I took the concept of a Tav who’s a sex worker at Sharess Caress and Raphael’s favorite. Warning for the usage of the word “whore”. Hope you liked it!

…

Pearls - Raphael x Fem!Tav

…

That peacefulness was cut short when Tav felt someone shaking her awake. Still with her eyes closed, she turned around, ignoring whoever it was. Then, the sheets which she covered herself with were ripped off of her, prompting Tav to finally open her eyes, being met with Nym’s gray ones. Sitting on the bed, she asked “What do you want?”

The drow crossed her arms. “There’s a client waiting for you.”

Her eyes widened. “But it’s my day off! Can’t you attend to whoever it is?”

Nym shook her head. “He asked specifically for you. Mamzell tried to change his mind but he paid good coin.”

“Ugh.” Tav rolled her eyes, stretching her arms and putting her feet on the floor. Before getting up, she asked “Do you at least know who’s the bastard that ruined my sleep?”

The drow raised a brow. “Who else but that devil.” She smirked. “He seems quite smitten with you.” She teased as Tav quickly put on a simple, beige dress. “Considering how often he comes here, one might even say it’s love.”

Tav stood in front of the mirror, trying to make her hair look presentable. Her eyes met Nym’s in the mirror, and she raised one brow, skeptically. “He’s a devil. I doubt he even knows what love is.” She turned to look at the drow. “And if he was in love, he’d be a fool.”

“And what about you?” Nym asked, walking closer to Tav. “How do you feel about him?”

She contemplated her answer for a moment, gathering her thoughts. In truth, she quite liked him, as he was one of the few clients who treated her with respect. He would converse with her, long after her services were done, asking her about things beyond her work. He’d gift her with books and then discuss with her about it, complimenting Tav on her mind, saying ‘You are far more than just a body or a pretty face, dear. If none else can see to that, they are not worthy of your presence.’

It also helped that the devil was quite easy on the eye. Tav smiled. Maybe, if he wasn’t who he was and she didn’t have the work she had, there could be a chance to pursue those feelings, let them bloom.

Alas, Tav was still a whore and Raphael was still a devil, and so, she told Nym “He pays me well. That’s all I need to care about.” Grabbing a nearby shawl, she wrapped it around her shoulders, and left the room.

She remembered her mother’s words, uttered once when she was a child but that haunted her since.

There is no such a thing as love for people like us.

With that in mind, she made her way to the Devil’s Den, knocking on it twice before the doors were opened. Raphael stood in the middle of the room, hands behind his back, a smirk forming on his face as she walked in.

“My, my, finally you decide to arrive. Any longer and my feet would become rooted to the ground.”

Tav raised a brow, holding her shawl closer. “Well, it’s what you get for bothering me on my day off.”

“Ah yes, that. Mamzell tried to tell me off, but as you well know -“ He took a step towards her “I always get what I want. One way or another.”

Tav took in a deep breath. Raphael was close enough that she could smell his cologne - cherries with a hint of musk, overwhelming the smell of sulphur that fiends were known for. She looked at him, into his deep brown eyes, trying to take a read on him. He didn’t look like he was there for carnal pleasures, but Tav couldn’t tell his true intentions.

“And what do you want, Raphael? What was so important that you demanded I come see you?”

The devil smiled, taking a step back. “Do not worry, my appearance here is only momentary. In an instant, you shall be free to enjoy the rest of your day off.”

Tav huffed, crossing her arms, as Raphael walked around, giving a little speech.

“I have grown fond of you, you know? In my own way. And I kept thinking, how can I express my gratitude for all the time you have so graciously spent in my presence?”

With a flick of his wrist, a small, wooden, rectangular box appeared in his hand. Tav stepped closer, noticing carved inscriptions along the sides and on the lid, recognizing the language as infernal. She traced the words with her fingers, impressed by the fine work.

“Open it.” Raphael demanded in a soft tone. She did and inside, there was a pearl necklace.

“Raphael, I-“ Tav gasped at the sight, almost scared to touch it. The necklace seemed expensive, probably worth more than what Tav had ever earned.

“Do you like it?”

“I-it- it’s lovely.” ‘But I don’t think I should have it’ she finished the sentence in her mind. Tav had only ever seen the ladies of the Upper City wearing this sort of jewelry, doubting that a whore such as herself, who bedded devils, would be worthy of wearing it. However, she knew better than refuse such a gift. “Thank you.”

Raphael smiled. “I want to see it on you.” He grabbed the necklace, leaving the box on a nearby table. He moved behind Tav, his hands appearing in front of her, holding the adornment against her neck and clasping it on the back.

The pearls were snug against her neck and collarbone, not a tight fit but not too loose. She walked towards the pool, looking at her reflection.

“It’s beautiful.” Tav said, admiring the way the necklace looked on her.

Raphael appeared behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, and Tav almost didn’t catch it. She felt his lips on her shoulder blade, and she could feel the blood rushing towards her cheeks.

Inhaling, Tav turned to look at him. “Thank you, again. It is a most precious gift.”

Raphael nodded. “I do not know when will we see each other again, as I have business to attend elsewhere and it might take long.” He sighed. “I hope you’ll see this token of my affection and remember me.”

“I will.” Tav moved forward and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, before walking towards the door.

Raphael smirked. “Tav.”

She turned to look at him. “Yes?”

“I want to see you wearing it when I return.” She smiled, nodded and Raphael snapped his fingers, leaving in a circle of smoke and fire.

Tav left the Devil’s Den, trying to contain a smile from forming on her face.

‘Maybe I’m the fool.’

[memoire-du-ciel]

⌈ ᴄʀᴀᴅʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ⌋ ᴡᴇ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴀ ɢᴀᴍʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪs ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ sᴀɪʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴠᴇs ʀᴜsʜɪɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴜs ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟɪɴɢ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴍʏ ʙᴇᴀᴄᴏɴ ᴏғ sᴀʟᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪ ᴡᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴀʀʟɪɢʜᴛ sᴏ ᴅᴏɴ·ᴛ ᴄʀʏ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴄʀʏ ᴛᴇᴀʀs ᴏғ ᴊᴏʏ ·ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ·ʀᴇ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴅʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴ·ᴛ ᴄʀʏ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴄʀʏ ᴛᴇᴀʀs ᴏғ ᴊᴏʏ ·ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ·ʀᴇ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴅʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ... [Poets Of The Fall - Cradled In Love] ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ✧ ・ﾟ . ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ✧ ・ﾟ Yeah hello, hello 2024! Long time no see hah! Well...I try to get more active...and here I go! This little picture happened because I am...since the offical release of BG3...absolutely obsessed with Astarion. And I couldn't get that out of my head. So here it is, my "Tav" Elénariel with her favorite vampire spawn! I also got a bit of background lore about her, since she isn't really like the ordinary Tav in the game. If you want to know about my rambling...uh just hit me up!

[vastarion]

‘‘I’d love you even if you were a worm.’’ Astarion with a Fem!Plus Size Tav.

🔞 FLUFF, ANGST, AND SMUT ALL IN ONE SO BEWARE! MINORS AND MEN DNI! 🔞

A midsummer day at the campsite. Astarion is roaming about with the others, while you sit alone in your tent. You’re gazing at your reflection in the handheld mirror, disgusted by who you see.

Your overly-rounded face, puffy cheeks, and double-layered chin. You scowl lightly, running your fingers over the acne scars and pores. You feel hideous as you set the mirror down. Your entire life you lived as the unconventionally attractive one, or so to speak. Even being the sorcerer you are didn’t stop the ridicule from judgemental mouths, and their snake-slit eyes always watching your every move, hoping that you would fail. Astarion would compliment you every chance he got, but you still questioned his authenticity. Even though you’ve been silent about it for awhile, it creeps back around during moments like this. Astarion has always been beautiful. His lean yet muscular physique, toned abs, and jawline so sharp as if it was sculpted by the gods themselves. You still wonder how someone like him ever gave you a chance. Most men like him would’ve scoffed at the first sight of you. Yet, Astarion seemed to have been drawn to you since the first day. You always felt like it was because of your powers as a sorcerer, which made sense considering Astarion needed you to help him take down Cazador. But it’s how you’ve always felt. No one ever genuinely wanted you for you, only for what you possessed. At least, that’s how it had been ingrained into your mind. You quickly get dressed, making sure to bundle up with extra layers to hide your stomach rolls and contain your chubby thighs. In a way, this has been your way of masking. Astarion never seemed to mind, or does he...?

Later that evening, you find yourself sitting at the campfire. Astarion went out for a meal, and the others are in their tents. You’re roasting some chicken, when Astarion returns.

Astarion rubs his belly, ‘‘Ah, I just found the most delicious deer I think I’ve ever sank my fangs into. How about you, sweetheart? Enjoying the chicken?’’

You look up at him and crack a smile, as you slowly nod. ‘‘Oh yes, once it’s done cooking I’ll season it with some herbs.’’

Astarion smiles in response, as you turn your attention back to the chicken. He watches as you wipe your forehead. He can see droplets of sweat on both your forehead and face. He notices you’re also still wearing the multiple sweaters and jackets, even though it’s deep into the summer. Astarion’s eyebrows furrow slightly.

Astarion speaks up, ‘‘Darling, may I ask you something?’’

You look back up at him. ‘‘Yes, my love?’’

Astarion takes a seat on the log next to you, as he looks at you with a hint of concern. ‘‘I don’t mean to pry all of a sudden, but I’m just curious is all. It’s a little hot for wearing coats, wouldn’t you agree?’’

His questioning catches you off guard. It seems he’s seen through you, and you have no choice but to tell him the truth. ‘‘I, uh... I just like keeping myself concealed, you know? Don’t like others seeing my stomach, and things like that.’’ To your surprise, Astarion gives you a horrified expression.

He responds with a bit of shock in his tone, ‘‘I’m sorry... Did you just say you’re keeping yourself ‘concealed?’’ You sigh at his response, as you set the chicken down in your lap.

‘‘Yes, the truth is I’m insecure about my body, Astarion. I don’t like my fat stomach and my legs stick out, and my butt is rather concave. Not to mention having a puffy oval face with 2 chins doesn’t make it any better! That is why I wear tight-fitting clothes. It makes me feel less ugly.’’ You say bluntly, because it’s true to you. But Astarion is baffled at this confession, trying to fathom how his girlfriend could hate herself this much.

When Astarion responds, you can hear the heartbreak in his voice from your revelation, ‘‘Darling, I-... I don’t know what to say. I never guessed you felt this bad about yourself. You kept this from me? I wish you told me this sooner, my dear!’’

You frown to yourself. The guilt from keeping your insecurities hidden for so long has reached its tipping point. Astarion was thorough with you from the beginning, but you couldn’t relate. So of course, Astarion has every right to be upset. Your mask shatters, as you croak out your feelings all at once, ‘‘I-I’m sorry, my love! I just- You don’t understand how it feels to be me! To constantly live in shame and regret of my appearance! It’s... It’s easy for you, Astarion. You were already handsome before you became a vampire. I’ve never been the pretty one, or someone people sought after. A woman with a body like me was never meant to make it in this life.’’

Astarion’s red eyes darken at your words, as his jaw clenches. He remains silent for a moment, taking it all in. But after a moment, he inhales and speaks up, ‘‘Maybe you are right in the way that I am seen as a beauty standard. As for my fem-aligned counterparts, the pressure to be perfect is even worse. But you remember my past, darling. I was merely only valuable for my looks, not as a person! Until I met you, my sweet. When we first met, it was quite obvious we had our physical differences. But I didn’t care much for your body, to be frank. Your brilliant personality, and girlish whimsy, and of course that marvelous scent of your blood is what swooned me. To even assume that I’m shallow enough to choose someone based on their looks—is laughable. So? Listen when I say that, respectfully....’’ Astarion suddenly stands up, and he holds his hand out for you to take it. You eyes widen and your cheeks flush red, but nonetheless you take his hand and stand up as well. Astarion looks at you endearingly, smirking slightly as he then slowly trails his long slender fingers up your arms, making you shiver at his touch. His voice comes close to a whisper, and he leans down close to your ear.

‘‘My gorgeous darling, I’d love you even if you were a worm.’’ Astarion purrs out, as you feel yourself melt at his touching and captivating monologue. You feel heat take over your body, as Astarion looks you up and down. He bites his lip, as he then leans in and kisses you passionately. You feel your body fill with passion and lust as you return his kiss. Astarion grunts through the kiss, but he suddenly pulls away.

‘‘Darling, let us return back to our tent, where I can show you just how beautiful you truly are.’’ His accent oozes lust as he smirks at you. You blush again as you look into his eyes, nodding in response. Astarion takes your hand once more, as you both make your way back to your tent. You walk in first as he follows, closing the tarp behind him. Astarion then turns back to you and smirks, as he begins to take his tunic off. You watch him strip down to his glorious naked body, and blush as you glance back up at him. Astarion strides towards you as he slowly puts his hands on your waist, then leans in and kisses you again. Once you return his kiss, he begins to move his fingers down to your bum. It causes you to break the kiss and gasp lightly. Astarion can feel you tense up at this, he starts to console you.

‘‘Shh, darling. Just relax, my dear. There’s no need to be scared. Not anymore.’’ Astarion coos in your ear, and you feel the tension ease slightly. He then begins to trail his lips down to your neck, as you lean your head back. He plants soft kisses all over your neck, causing his hunger to rise slightly. A light moan slips out from your lips, as he moves his hands up to the hem of your coat, beginning to slowly take it off you. Your heart races at his move, and once your coat is off he lets it fall to the ground. He kisses you again, moving his fingers to the button of your blouse as he begins to unbutton them—slowly. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing your stomach and all its flaws will finally be revealed to him. He opens your blouse, and your belly falls out in all its glory. Astarion’s red eyes light up, his cheeks turning pink at the sight of your belly. He can’t resist, as his large hands begin to roam all over. He squeezes your rolls gently.

Astarion speaks again, his voice more sultry than before, ‘‘So this is what you’ve been keeping from me. My gods darling, you are... breathtaking.’’ He whispers out, as he looks back into your eyes. Your pulse relaxes, as you start to yearn for his touch. He can see the longing in your eyes, as he smirks once again.

‘‘Tell me you want this.’’ He demands, never taking his eyes off yours. After so long, you feel inclined for the pleasures of romance, and with a man that has made it known that you are his everything.

You quickly nod, as you lean close to his ear and purr, ‘‘I want this.’’ Astarion groans at your words, as he kisses you again, and you return his kiss with a more passionate heat this time. His desire grows more each second, as he yanks your blouse away. You both moan through the kiss, that’s when Astarion grips your thighs and lifts you up with ease, and begins to slowly set you down on the blanket, not breaking the kiss once. He presses himself up against you, slowly moving his fingers lower to your pants. You allow him to pull them down and off your feet. Astarion glances back up at you with his bewitchjng red eyes, as he moves his mouth to the hem of your undergarments, and begins to slowly drag them down with his fangs. Now you’re completely exposed to him. Astarion takes the sight of you in, admiring your fatness like a fine masterpiece. You feel flustered again, as you look away in embarrassment. But he suddenly leans up, and pulls your chin towards him.

‘‘No no, my sweet. Do not look away from me.’’ He speaks in an assertive tone, which makes your heartbeat quicken again. Astarion slowly moves his hands up to your large breasts, that hang a little past your ribs. He groans as he begins to caress them, then moves on to squeezing them. You moan and lean your head back again, as he starts to run his thumbs over your nipples. He does this for about a minute, then leads his head down towards your left nipple, and begins to suckle on it. You continue to moan, as his other hand rubs your right nipple. Once he’s done entertaining the left, he switches to your right nipple. He grunts as he swirls his tongue around it, then suckles on it as well. You had always wanted your breasts sucked on, and now your dream becomes reality. Astarion’s tongue felt silky against your nipples, and you couldn’t wait to see what else he could do with it.

Astarion decides to finish by grabbing both of your breasts, and rubbing his face in-between as he groans into them. This causes you to giggle and moan simultaneously, and he begins to move lower once again. He plants a trail of light kisses down to your large vulva, but instead of going right into it, he smirks, deciding to tease you by moving his lips towards your inner thighs, and starts planting kisses on both sides.

You groan and then hiss at him, but your words falter slightly, ‘‘Don’t t-tease me like t-that!’’ Astarion continues to kiss between your thighs, even going so far as to plant hickies, with his fangs grazing your skin slightly. Your legs jerk, his kisses sending shivers up your spine. Astarion chuckles, as he looks back up at you and teases you once again, ‘‘My my my, I haven’t even begun and you’re already dying to be tasted. I wonder if your juices are even sweeter than your blood.’’ He purrs, and you feel your vulva beginning to pulse from his words. Upon noticing this, he lowers his head down into your vulva as he slides his long tongue in. You gasp as you grab onto his silvery locks, as he starts to slowly move his tongue up and down your folds, savoring the taste of your sweet juice leaking out. You moan and whimper, as your hips buck slightly. His nails dig into both of your thighs, his tongue pressing deeper. You begin to push his head further, your vulva now throbbing from the rapid sensation. Astarion’s head bobs as he begins to move his tongue in and out of your canal, as you buck your hips in sync with his tongue, your thighs shaking along with you. Astarion groans as it sends out a vibrating sensation throughout your vulva, which causes you to gasp and arch your back, as Astarion feels the full force of your juices slip into his mouth. Astarion groans once more, as he doesn’t let a single drop go. He pulls away as his red eyes dart back up to you, smirking as he licks his lips. ‘‘As I thought! You taste splendid, darling.’’ Astarion teases, as he grins at you. Because you’re panting he decides to let you take a moment to recuperate. Once he sees you calm down, he speaks up again. ‘‘Are you ready for the next part, darling?’’ You take a deep breath, and nod as you breathe out, ‘‘Yes, my love. Take me there.’’ Astarion grins, as he then kisses you again.

You both grunt, as Astarion moves his member over your vulva. He then presses the tip against your throbbing clit, as you gasp and pull away from the kiss. He groans as he moves his hands down to your stomach, gripping your love handles as he grinds against you. You let out a whimper, and lean your head back. Your swollen vulva is aching to be taken by Astarion’s girthy, hard cock. He decides to make his move. He moves his member down to your canal, and slowly pushes it a little. Your eyes go wide and you yelp at the slight pain from it. He groans but quickly speaks up, ‘‘Does it hurt, darling?’’ He asks with a hint of anxiety in his voice. But you quickly reassure him, ‘‘Maybe a little bit, but... I want this. Please, give it to me!’’ You call out in response, and Astarion doesn’t hold back this time. He pushes his length all the way inside, as your back arches. You moan and he groans again, as his thrusts start slowly. You both stare into each other’s eyes, his filled with passion and hunger for you. He keeps a slow rhythm at first, but you ache for speed.

‘‘Astarion, please. I want more!’’ Your tone is desperate and pleading, but in a reassuring way. Astarion grunts, as he grins with his fangs protruding. ‘‘Very well, darling... If that’s what you want.’’ With that, he plunges deeper into you. He digs his claws into your sides, then begins to move at a rapid pace. You lean your head back as your eyes flicker, your mind swirling in ecstasy. Your bodies sync together in erotic perfection, your body finally getting the praise you so much deserved. He then kisses you in the heat of the passion, as his cock is stretching and filling up your canals. Both of your moans, groans, and whimpers fill the entire tent, and you both are soon to climax. Astarion nearly loses himself to your body in the moment, but quickly regains his senses slightly as he forces himself out of you, and holds his length up at your stomach with his silky white seed fluttering out onto your skin. You let out an exasperated squeal, as you feel your liquids began to ooze out of you. Astarion looks down and watches as he groans, then leans back down as he licks all of it all up. You lean back as well, panting heavily. He falls next to you, also panting and trying to get a breath in. You turn to him, as he looks at you and you both give each other satisfied smiles. But then you feel it, again.

The insecurity creeps up on you after a vulnerable night of passion, as you narrow your eyes and turn away from him. Astarion notices this as his smile falters slightly, as he puts his hand on your shoulder. He speaks with some anxiety in his voice, ‘‘Oh no... I did something, didn’t I? I was too rough, wasn’t I? Should I have been a little more moist?!’’ You let out a strained sigh, as you shake your head. ‘‘No, my love. It’s not that... It’s just—I want to be praised more in just seduction. I want my duties to be seen as worthwhile, and especially me as a person.’’ Astarion seems to relax a bit, as he smiles again. ‘‘Oh darling, I already commend you for all of that. You are just as attractive now, as you were when you casted Daylight upon Cazador himself. But I don’t want you to hide, and isolate yourself any longer.’’ He speaks in a soothing reassuring tone, but you frown as your judgement is starting to cloud your mind again. You speak rather pessimistically next,

‘‘I just feel like I’m too much for you to handle.’’

But Astarion counters this, and you can feel the genuinity radiate off his tongue.

‘‘You’re perfect to me, darling. I love every inch of you, inside and out. You’re not too much—you’re just right.’’ Your eyes widen once he says this, he reaches out and brings your hand into his, and plants an endearing kiss on your knuckles. You both smile again, as he then moves closer to you, and lays his head on your chest this time. All the doubts and insecurity from before slips away, and for once it feels like it won’t return for a very long time. Your mask has shattered and you’re finally free, with the man who will love you forever.

[pheonixgrave]

Softer Now (18+)

Ahh! You guys seem to be really enjoying these. I realized I was just writing the same Tav so there's that

Warnings: Soft smut, definite voyeurism, a decent amount of blood drinking, Soft!Astarion, pre-Act III, post-Act II

“Aren’t you just a little jealous?” Karlach asked, joining Astarion near the stash of wine they found.

“Why would I be jealous of the walking encyclopedia?” He smirked, watching a certain elf interact with a certain wizard.

“Oh c’mon! He’s flirting with her and you two are a thing, right?”

“I find it rather charming, actually,” he took a swig of the awful wine in his hand.

The Tiefling looked from the vampire spawn to the pair looking over some old tome whose name no one else could pronounce. “Charming?”

“Let me tell you what I see,” he set the bottle down to face the barbarian. “To you and I, Gale is obviously flirting. In a very clumsy manner, but flirting all the same. Our fearless leader, however, has no idea. To her, he is as much of a friend as Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet, he keeps trying because he has no clue that she simply isn’t flirting back.”

“That doesn’t make you angry?”

“Of course not!” He laughed, “I can barely believe he managed to bed a goddess with how he flirts.”

“It does seem pretty out there, as far as stories go,” Karlach crossed her arms and continued to watch the pair. 

“Anyways, I know there’s no competition.”

She smirked, “You do sound a teensy bit jealous.”

“My dear, I do not get jealous.” The more he thought about it, the more pause it gave him. Their resident wizard does try to hold her attention more often than he should. But Tav’s time was her own. He knew he had nothing to worry about. After everything they’ve been through, he couldn’t imagine her changing her mind at the last moment. Right?

Tav, on the other hand, was enjoying pouring over the old tome they had found. It gave some interesting insight into Illithids and their reasonings. Unfortunately, she was unable to read the language it was written in. She was thankful for Gale in that sense. Who knew he spoke Deep Speech? Granted it was written in Espruar but the script itself was odd. The wizard had helped her decipher a few pages about psionic energy and how they have mastered it. It truly was fascinating. 

“This is nice,” Gale spoke from next to her. He was holding the dusty tome in his hands with the bard sitting near him, using her mage hand to scribble any notes she’s taken. 

She looked up at him with wide eyes, “I suppose it is! I’m very happy we found this book.”

“It truly is remarkable,” he swallowed, “It’s also a nice excuse to spend more time together in the midst of all this madness.” 

“Oh! I suppose it is nice to sit with everyone.” She didn’t fail to notice him scoot slightly closer. Just a hair between them now.

Gale closed the book and turned to look at the elf next to him. “I’m afraid I must ask you something.”

Something in Tav’s mind warned her to walk away. But she was still getting used to that voice, so she elected not to listen to it. This was Gale. This was her friend. “What’s on your mind?”

He grabbed her hands in his, “I have noticed you and Astarion getting rather close recently.”

Tav wasn’t sure how to react. She was already flustered by the sudden turn of the conversation. She was more than happy to keep speaking of the Illithid empire. “Where are you going with this, Gale?”

Gale’s eyes never left hers. It was like he was trying far too hard to bear into her soul and she simply…didn’t want him to. “I told myself it was casual, not a matter of the heart but…clearly I was wrong and it looks like I am the last to know. I know how close you two have gotten, I just thought you would show me the respect of telling me first.”

The Elf’s jaw dropped, “Tell you? Tell you what?”

“But you can tell me now. Who is it to be? Me or him?” The look in Gale’s eyes was nearly as serious as when he was told he’d have to become a bomb.

“What exactly am I choosing here?” Tav blinked, glancing down at the wizard’s hands that completely enveloped hers. It took her a moment before her brain caught up. “Oh! Oh, Gale! I had no idea you felt this strongly.”

A glimmer of a smile reached his face, “Well, perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach…but I was only myself. Sometimes that just isn’t enough.” His face dropped looking at hers, “Whatever your decision is, I will respect it. But you must choose. You cannot have us both.”

Tav made a choked sound in the back of her throat before clearing it. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I think it’s for the best that we aren’t involved like that. I want to be with Astarion.”

“I see. I suppose he does have a certain charm about him, if you’re into that sort of thing.” He sighed, “I’ll just put my feelings to one side. I think that’s best for everyone. It’s certainly the best thing for me. I won’t leave, unless you want me to. Or until fate forces my hand, your friendship is all we have. And I will be happy to have it, eventually.”

Tav’s heart broke for the man. It must be quite painful to not have those feelings returned. For a moment, she thought about what she would do if Astarion ever stops feeling the things he says he feels for her. And the thought almost brought tears to her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she couldn’t hide the crack in her voice. But Gale was never going to be the cause of it. 

“Worry not. I carry my regrets wherever I go and I am used to their weight. One more will not break my back.” He gripped her hands one final time before she pulled away. 

She gave him a sad smile before walking over to where Karlach and Astarion stood. Grabbing the bottle from Astarion’s hands, she drank deep for a moment. They both glanced at each other before turning back towards the Elf. She handed the bottle back to him before smiling at Karlach, “Is there anything you have to admit to me? Any deep romantic feelings or attachment?”

Karlach laughed, “What? No, soldier!” She put her still warm hand on the much smaller elf’s shoulder. “You’re a dear friend. More than that, you’re family.”

Tav’s shoulders dropped, “Oh thank the Gods.” She turned to Astarion who was watching her with raised eyebrows, “Bed?” 

The moment they were inside his tent, she buried her face in his chest with her arms wrapped so tightly around his waist. “Darling, what’s wrong? Did the mean mage say something he shouldn’t have?” 

She didn’t want to pull far enough away to answer him. She didn’t want him to see her start to cry. She just shook her head and held him as close as she could. She wasn’t sure how to process these feelings. The vampire spawn just wrapped his arms around her trembling form. 

“You don’t have to say anything, just nod your head. Did Gale hurt you in any way?” She could hear the growl in his voice. It sounded more dangerous than normal. 

She pulled away with a deep inhale. She looked up at him with tears already streaming down her face. With a sniffle she whispered, “Gale admitted he had feelings for me, yes. But then I thought about how miserable life would be without you in it.”

Astarion froze, his body tensed. “So let me get this straight,” he swallowed, more nervous than he’s ever really been before. “You told Gale you’re not interested just to be with me? I do come with my complications, my love.”

She let out a breathy laugh, “I told Gale I’m not interested because I’m simply not interested.” Her hand reached up to stroke his cheek, “I just don’t ever want to imagine a life without you again. A world where you’re not with me. Because you’ve always been near, even if I didn’t know it.”

He remembers the night he told her about Cazador. The night he told her about the Szarr palace was also the same night she had told her about her tower. And how she could see the palace from her desk. It was true, they really have always been close in one way or another. “And you got that worked up because…?”

“I wouldn’t even know what I was missing,” she smiled at him, eyes still full of emotion. “You’ve been all of my firsts. First kiss, first night together. Hells, the first time I’ve held someone's hand was with you. This is all still very new to me. And the moment I thought about you not being with me I-” she let out a choked sob before gripping his shirt in her fists and burying her face in his chest once again. 

For a moment, the vampire spawn didn’t react. It still takes him a moment to return affection but he managed to wrap his arms around the trembling bard. He swallowed before gently rubbing the small of her back. The thought of someone wanting him this badly was…daunting, to say the least. He knew if they had met before the nautiloid, he’d mark her as a victim. She was pretty and just naive enough to fall for him. Hells, he had even known her parents. Cazador loved having the city’s nobility over, but never her. 

She was always the princess in the tower. Always there but never seen. Even Cazador had thought she was a mere rumor and nothing else.

For a while, he just held her while she cried. He wasn’t sure what else he could do besides hold her. Nothing he could say would comfort her. They weren’t even sure if they would survive this mess. So he pulled her closer. The rest of the night passed as they were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Soft, whispered words of a future sprinkled with hope. For the first time in his unlife, he had more than just hope.

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. They were only traveling, plain and simple. Onwards to Baldur’s Gate. Where all of their dooms or salvations lay. In the gloom of it all, Tav wanted some fun. She had gone to Shadowheart and pilfered some of her extra blankets with promises to replace them once they reached the city. As they set up camp yet again, she made her way towards the lake side. She laid out all of the blankets in a large square before finding the extra food she had squirreled away. And pulled out the best wine she could find. It was an obviously aged bottle still covered in a thick layer of dust, but the label looked fancy.  She truly knew nothing about wine so she prayed to whomever was listening that it wasn’t swill. She then adjusted her bustier in an awkward manner before smiling to herself and searching for the vampire spawn.

He wasn’t hard to find. No one heard what she whispered in his ear. But they certainly noticed the fond smile and raised eyebrows as she dragged him away from the camp. Astarion looked at the little picnic she had put together, his hand in hers before kissing the top of her head. “And what’s the special occasion, darling?”

She smiled up at him, unabashed emotion in her eyes with a grin on her face. She was truly divine in the moonlight. She shrugged, “I just wanted to do something nice for you. We reach Baldur’s Gate in a couple days and we have to hit the ground running soon. I just wanted to take a moment, just for us.” She picked up the bottle of wine she had found, “I hope it’s okay. I know it’s old but I don’t know if it’s good.” 

He smiled and pulled her close. “Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?”

The tips of her ears flushed as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. And then they sat and talked and ate and drank. They spoke about the Gauntlet of Shar, about the monastery, about the Moonrise Towers. And the conversation drifted to their party as Tav slowly became more and more tipsy. She talked about Wyll and his obvious daddy issues. Shadowheart and her love for more adult literature. And Astarion was all too happy to sit and listen to her. It’s one of the things that drew him to her, after all. She could read people like they were a book she was all too happy to read. 

As the evening turned into night, the pair ended up against a nearby rock. Tav sitting on his lap as he peppered her neck with kisses. And as Tav’s giggles turned into soft moans as his hands started to travel to her waist. “You should keep quiet, my sweet, we wouldn’t want to wake the entire camp up. Would we?” He whispered before nipping at the base of her neck. 

“I-I think you’d like that far too much,” she managed to gasp out as he helped her rock her hips back and forth against him. 

He chuckled against her neck, leaving trails of almost bites with his fangs. “What ever makes you say that?”

“Astarion!” She moaned, grabbing the back of his head as he finally sank his teeth into her neck. She gripped his curls in one hand and dug her nails into his shoulder with the other. Her hips moved on their own as he slowly drank from her. His arms wrapped around her waist as he held her up. Between the wine and him drinking from her, she felt lightheaded. But that made the friction between them feel all the more intense. 

“You always taste just so perfect, my love.” He slowly released her neck before slamming his lips against hers. He knew he was being needy but he craved her. As his lips melded against hers his nimble fingers went to work on the knots of her bustier. It never took him long to get her out of her clothes and tonight was no exception. 

She grabbed his hands before he could fully remove her bustier, cradling his hands in hers. “Are you sure you want to do this? We really don’t have to. I’m happy to just sit here with you.” Her voice was barely a whisper, something meant just for him. 

He smiled at her before kissing her again, “Darling, if I didn’t wish to have you, I wouldn’t have you half dressed sitting on my lap.”

She smiled and let go of his hands and let him return to practically tearing off her clothing. He wasn’t satisfied until she was sat on his lap in nothing but her underwear. His face buried in her breasts, leaving small little nicks with his teeth as he made his way back up to her lips. Her hands gripped his shoulder as he snaked his hand down her body. He made sure to feel all the softness that was still on her body, never failing to trace her curves. 

Tav was small but years in a tower had made her body gentle. Her hands were rough from her instruments, yes, and she did have a lot of skill with a blade. But she was in no way muscular. And Astarion enjoyed that more than he could say. He enjoyed being able to almost see the tremors in her thighs before he felt it. Gods, he needed her. 

It only took him a moment to find her clit and draw slow, gentle circles around it. Never quite touching it directly. “Darling, you’re already shaking. Did you miss me that much?”

“Yes!” She cried into his ear. “Y-you’re teasing me.” Her head fell against his shoulder as her body trembled against him. 

“Oh, I’d never do such a thing,” He smiled and buried his hand in her hair. “I simply want to take my time enjoying you.” The vampire spawn slowly filled her cunt with his fingers, his palm grinding against her clit. 

She tried hard to keep quiet. Really she did. But when his fingers curled inside of her? She couldn’t help but cry out his name. How was he so patient? All she wanted was to have him inside her. He pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt so painfully slowly. 

Now, Tav may have been too focused on the rogue’s hands to notice anything else. But Astarion wasn’t. He knew Halsin and Gale were keeping watch tonight. He also knew it was far too late for anyone else to be awake. Which is why his hands didn’t stop when he noticed the bushes across from them moved. It was so subtle that he almost missed it.

Almost.

Someone was watching them. And he had an inkling he knew exactly who it was. The thought made him grin against Tav’s bloodsoaked neck. He sped up his fingers, holding her as she writhed against him. “That’s it, love, don’t hold a single thing back.” She came with a cry of his name. She was still trembling as he made a show of licking his own fingers clean. “I do so enjoy how you taste, my love.” He didn’t whisper this time. He wanted the wizard in the bushes to hear.

With shaking hands she went to untie the knots on his trousers. He leaned back against the rock, letting her take his length in her hands. “M-may I?” Her neck was stained just as red as the flush on her cheeks. Her big blue eyes wide in anticipation. 

“May you what?” His hand went to her throat and he felt her breath catch.

“M-may I ride you?” It really was endearing how she asked. Her voice was breathless and her chest was heaving. He had never been overly rough with her. But with a voyeur in the bushes? He was more than tempted to lay claim to the nearly virgin in his lap. 

He pouted at her, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, darling.”

Her eyes went wider than before. “W-what?”

She was so innocent. So pure, he had never even heard her swear before. “What is it exactly that you would like to do?” He purred, his forehead meeting hers. “Don’t play coy with me now.”

She swallowed, the tips of her ears matching the rest of her face. “Astarion,” she whined. 

“If you use your words, love, I’ll be happy to give you anything you want.”

She whined again when the grip around her throat tightened ever so slightly. “I-I want-” another swallow, “I want to ride your cock.”

He smiled, “See? Now was that so hard? You did so well,” he whispered against her lips.  She adjusted herself over him, still holding him in one hand while the other braced herself on his shoulder. His hand still held her throat, not quite squeezing just letting her know he was there. The bard lowered herself onto him. He groaned as she sank down. “Perfect.”

Her other hand flew up to his chest while she gripped his blouse so tightly that her knuckles were whiter than before. Her head spun while the wine loosened her tongue. “Gods, Astarion.” 

“Use your words, darling,” he moaned against her neck, his eyes keeping an eye on the bush yet again. He wanted the wizard to see how good he could make her feel. He wanted him to see that he wasn’t even a thought on her mind. He wanted him to see that she wanted him and not Gale.

She sat for a moment, adjusting to his size before rocking her hips back and forth. Astarion’s hands flew to her hips to help guide her movements. “Feels so good,” she whimpered, still clutching at his blouse. 

“That’s it, pet. You can take it, I know you can.” Her movements were entirely her own. She gradually went from rocking to bouncing. His body told him to throw his head back but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Maybe now Gale would realize she was his. Maybe he had more of a possessive streak than he thought. 

“Your hand, put it back!” She used his chest as leverage for her movements. He could feel her getting close and who was he to deny her? He instinctively put his hand back around her throat and squeezed. He had never felt her tighten around him harder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He let her sit like that for a moment as she started to relax once again.

Whoever was in the bushes was gone now. Either too riled up to stay or too heartbroken to watch. Either way, Astarion found it satisfying. Satisfying enough to toss Tav on her back and put her ankles on his shoulder. It was something about knowing Tav not only trusted him but chose him, drove him wild. Far more than any lover he’s had in the past. Even through her half opened eyes and her mind filled with wine and pleasure, her eyes were still filled with that emotion. That feeling that he wouldn’t dare put words to yet. 

She was his. And he was equally hers. 

Her moans and whimpers filled the air but he felt so far away from her. Too far. She grabbed his hands and pulled him closer, lacing her hands with his. “Beautiful,” was all she could whisper before she clenched around him. This time, he wasn’t far behind her. They laid like that for a while. Him on top of her, her tracing small patterns on his back. The scars were a reminder of what awaited them in Baldur’s Gate. But it could wait for now. For now they had each other. 

“Did you see who was in the bushes?” 

He immediately met her eyes, “You knew?”

“I’m naive, not stupid.” She giggled, rolling over to her side.

“I believe we just gave the magic eater quite the eyeful.”

[anastoza]

Relativly old sketchdump In this house we love and respect Gale since early access

[adarlingmess]

Something foreign stirs in his devilish heart.

Something tender.

Raphael loathes it.

The Devil's Hour, Chapter 5

[barbecutie]

oc: lilith character: astarion game: baldur's gate 3

they want to watch the world burn around them

[kylobith]

Little Town Tails

Chapter 4: A Fish Out of Water

Summary: Halsin meets the potential new member of his team and tests his craft.

Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy

Word count: 6,034

Read it on Ao3 here

Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here

Pushing his sunglasses further up his nose, Astarion grunts for the hundredth time since he hopped into the car ten minutes ago. With his arms folded against his chest and a straw tucked between his lips as he sips from his cup, he blasts Hungry Like The Wolf through the speakers.

After receiving Karlach’s text message the previous afternoon, he has thought of various ways to care about this new mission that could earn his license back. But not a single reason came to his mind. Sure, he likes cats, but that is about it. Ironically, he does not care enough to spend his life around them, while he gladly welcomed his husband’s tressym when they moved in together a few years back.

But after all, as many of his friends and his husband can testify, Astarion is a man of contradictions.

The car stops in front of a typical old house, whose ground floor has been refitted to welcome a shop or, in this case, a veterinary practice. What a peculiar location for such a thing, he finds himself thinking. It differs greatly from other surgeries he has walked by in the city. Most blend in with neighbouring shops and few notice it unless they peek in or especially look for it. Emerald Grove, on the other hand, stands out by occupying the lower floor of a historic home on the forest’s edge. Most curious choice.

Gale presses the handbrake button and smiles at Astarion, giving him a soft caress on the cheek.

‘Time to go, Starry,’ he murmurs tenderly. ‘You have a good day, mh?’

‘Don’t call me that,’ Astarion replies curtly.

His husband sighs and drops his hand onto his lap. Astarion eyes him from behind his sunglasses and grimaces. No matter how often he has advised Gale against it, he finds it obnoxious how his partner insists on dressing like he is an old-timey esteemed professor at one of the best universities of the land when in reality, he is merely a history teacher at a senior school. On weekdays, Gale is much too reluctant to part from his tweed suits and his antique pocket watch he merely carries around because he believes it makes him look cool. The watch itself has long been unusable. But, as he always says, at least it gets the time right twice a day.

What a dork, Astarion scoffs internally. Yet he cannot help but ogle how the tweed embraces his husband’s curves.

‘Astarion? Are you listening to me?’

‘Huh?’

Astarion snaps back to reality and looks up into Gale’s eyes, elegantly surrounded by browline glasses. Years of being hunched over books even in poor lighting does that to a man.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles, taking another sip from his cup, ‘I was thinking about something else.’

‘Mh,’ Gale responds, knowing quite well where his partner’s eyes have wandered. Not that he minds. ‘I was saying that too many places have refused you for your community service. Without your salary combined with mine, we can’t pay for the house, and you know quite well that it will take us even further away from the city, and that’ll make you miserable.’

His finger strokes the paler man’s jawline.

‘Can you promise me to make an effort this time? I’m worried about you, you know?’

‘Well don’t be,’ Astarion snaps. ‘I just couldn’t care less about these missions they want me to take. I don’t care about the community, I just want my godsdamn job back.’

‘And it will happen, but first, you need to make these hours and redeem yourself. It’s merely three months, Astarion, it will be alright. Plus, see the bright side of things, you’re going to work with Karlach!’

‘That’s the only reason why I came.’

‘No, not really, the other one is that I drove you here.’

Astarion glares at Gale, and the latter laughs as he presses a kiss to his partner’s cheek.

‘Come on now, mister, time to go. Call me when you need me to pick you up, or if Karlach is bringing you home, alright?’

‘Alright,’ Astarion grumbles.

‘Have a nice day, my love. And say hello to Karlach from me.’

‘Mh.’

The pair shares a fleeting kiss and Astarion drags himself out of the car. He waves his husband off, and before he can even make a step, he hears the door of the practice fly open, followed by a squeal.

‘Fangs!’

Karlach leaps out of the practice and enfolds him into a back-snapping embrace as she lifts him off the ground, squealing again. Astarion kicks his legs and grunts.

‘Ow, ow, ow, Karlach! Down!’

‘Whoops, sorry, soldier.’

She puts him back on the ground with an embarrassed chuckle as she looks at his friend.

‘Looking dapper for an interview to work at a vet’s office,’ she notes, eyeing his pristine white shirt and straight brown trousers whose hem stops about two inches above his waxed brogues. On his hip rests his brand-new brown satchel.

‘Well, this outfit certainly looks better than your blue sapphire scrubs, Karlach.’

‘Aw, damn! Halsin said they were teal!’

Astarion rolls his eyes and drinks from his cup again.

‘Anyway. Tell me of this… Halsin. What should I know about him?’

‘Oh, you’re going to love him! He’s great! Super nice, good with animals and all.’

‘I hope so, he’s a vet.’

His friend cackles and nudges him towards the door so they can enter together. As the two stand by the reception and Karlach shows him her desk and the waiting room, Halsin comes in, alerted by her enthusiastic talking. He beholds the tall and slender man with sunglasses on his nose and silky, curly white hair combed back, except for one lock grazing his eyebrow.

‘Good morning,’ he chimes, holding out his hand, ‘I am Halsin, the owner of Emerald Grove. You must be Astarion Ancúnin?’

‘Actually, it’s Astarion Dekarios-Ancúnin,’ the man corrects him while shaking his hand.

‘My apologies. Karlach told me much about you yesterday, but I believe I still have much to learn about you. Would you mind coming with me to my office so we can have a proper introduction?’

‘Sure.’

Halsin grins and shows him to his office, pulling up a chair for him and sitting at his desk himself. He turns around to face his guest, examining his every gesture. Although he is now indoors, Astarion seems to have a mind to keep his sunglasses on.

‘Would you like some tea, Mister Dekarios-Ancúnin?’

‘No, thank you. And uh, Astarion is fine.’

‘Very well.’

The veterinarian leans back against his chair, remembering what Karlach told him about her friend at the end of their shift.

‘So, let us go straight to the point, shall we?’ Halsin suggests, noting the reluctant demeanour of his interlocutor. ‘Karlach told me that you were in a bit of a pickle, as she phrased it. She said you need to do community service so you do not lose your job?’

‘Indeed.’

‘May I ask what this pickle is?’

Astarion sighs and sets his cup down on a small file cabinet next to him, before reaching into his satchel. He takes out a thin binder with all the documents relating to his current situation, forms that must be filled in should Halsin decide to take him in, and other decisions made by his firm’s board and the judge. He hands it over to his host, who skims through the carefully sorted file.

‘I work as a lawyer in the city for the Szarr Associates,’ Astarion begins to explain nonchalantly, having explained the whole story countless times already to the point where it has become almost mechanical. ‘And I messed up. I was on thin ice already because some of my colleagues suspected that I breached my clients’ confidentiality on multiple occasions and used that to win their cases. Plus, a few of my recent clients fired me from their cases. That was a new development in my career, truth be told.’

He runs a hand through his hair and drinks. Halsin continues to peruse the document with a crease on his brow.

‘But one night I was caught drunk driving, speeding, and shouting obscenities to the police. My driving license has been taken away, and my firm has decided to temporarily suspend my license. I got away easy only because the judge knew me well and felt pity for me, or something of the kind. He said that if I could do three months of community service, I could ask for a hearing and I could potentially get my license back and work again.'

Halsin closes the binder and hands it back to Astarion. A pang of worry tugs at him. Even though the younger man is Karlach’s friend, so far he does not strike him as somebody who can be trusted. Thankfully, it is not another veterinarian he is seeking, but merely someone who can complete sewing projects for him so the animals under his care can receive the best care he can offer. Yet, he finds it quite important to trust everyone working at his practice. He has not saved up for years to have one element throw his life project away.

‘That does not look too good on you, I am afraid,’ he confesses to the younger man. ‘Have you already done some hours for your community service?’

‘Of course,’ Astarion replies, his voice dripping with quite misplaced sarcasm, ‘I have done my hours, that is why I came here!’

‘How good are you at sewing?’

His sudden, off-topic question seems to throw Astarion off guard. He stutters for a moment, wondering whether all of this is a joke, a bad prank organised by Karlach. No. She would not do this to him in such trying times, especially if Gale is already breathing down his neck instead of nibbling lovingly at it. Ugh.

‘Sewing is my favourite hobby,’ he answers, a bit more quietly and seriously this time. ‘Would you like me to show you some pieces?’

‘By all means!’

Astarion reaches into his pockets and stands up for a moment to give Halsin a single twirl.

‘I made this outfit, to begin with,’ he says, slowly gaining in confidence. ‘Just not the shoes, of course.’

He sits back and begins to scroll through his social media to find photos of clothes and accessories he has created over the years. Halsin rolls his office chair to come next to him and look at his screen. Astarion shows him a variety of projects, some that the veterinarian believes to be worthy of the greatest designer brands.

In one photo, Astarion poses in a burgundy blazer with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Three thin chains hang from one hem to the other, resting against his torso, clad in a black, skin-tight turtleneck. The second picture of the post displays the back of the blazer and its magnificent floral design, embroidered with silver and gold thread.

Another post shows him again, modelling a striped shirt, unbuttoned at the top and tucked into elegant corduroy trousers. On his head rests a broad felt hat, which he customised with a different ribbon and feathers for a vintage and extravagant look.

The next one shows Gale shyly exhibiting a purple jacquard waistcoat, accessorised with his pocket watch, of course. Astarion tells Halsin that, while he did not make the jacquard pattern himself on the fabric, he did embroider the hems with golden thread and used antique buttons because he knew that his husband would be crazy about them. And he had been right, it seems, since Gale nearly wept with joy at their sight when he first saw the result.

Halsin nods all along, impressed by his skill and his obvious sense of aesthetics. Astarion seems to have quite an eye for it and he does not hesitate to flaunt it even just in the way that he photographed each outfit to post them to his social media.

‘When Karlach said that you were good with a needle, I certainly did not expect this,’ Halsin confesses with a soft chuckle. ‘If anything, she has undersold you.’

‘Karlach does not know how to dose her praise,’ Astarion sniggers, slipping his mobile phone back into his pocket. ‘Either she exaggerates one’s greatness, or she does not do it enough.’

‘The first option is the most common, isn’t it?’

‘Quite right.’

They share a laugh and Astarion drinks the last of his beverage, his suction noises filling the room. He gives Halsin an apologetic look, but the latter shrugs it off, allowing him to catch every last drop before resuming the conversation. 

‘Has Karlach told you what the idea of your work here would be?’

‘Not really. I figured you needed somebody to cuddle with the recovering pets, or to hold them down when they’re reluctant. But now that you mention sewing, I am praying that you’re not asking me to stitch them up during surgery.’

‘Hah, not at all. Let me show you.’

Halsin rolls back to his desk and unlocks his computer. He clicks on the tabs he left open for this interview of sorts and displays the broad pillows he wishes to acquire for his practice.

‘These pillows are quite affordable for me when they are in standard sizes,’ he begins, ‘but I need them much larger. We opened two days ago only, and we had a surprise with our first patient.’

‘A very big shepherd dog?’

‘An owlbear cub.’

If Astarion still had something to drink between his hands, he would have spat it all out in shock.

‘A what now?’

His host laughs warmly and shows him his notebook, where he has scribbled down the approximate measurements he would need the pillows to be.

‘Do you think that you could make, say, three of those to be safe? Perhaps two even larger ones if the need arises?’

‘Are you planning to heal all the animals of the forest? Perhaps an actual bear next?’

‘Hah, I would in a heartbeat,’ Halsin admits with a smile. I did think of a wide table for consultations and surgery, but nothing for the recovery. The owlbear was a harsh reminder that any situation can occur and I should be prepared for it.‘

‘I see. Well, that should be doable. I can see how the smaller ones are built and I can make the larger ones from there. That shouldn’t be too much of a challenge.’

Halsin nods in approval and proceeds to open the tab for surgery recovery suits for cats and dogs. Astarion only needs to catch a glimpse of what they are before shrugging.

‘Oh, easy. I have one of these at home from when my husband’s tressym needed to have a cyst removed. I can make some for tressyms, too. They’re built a bit differently because of the wings.’

‘Good thinking,’ Halsin reacts. Another thing he has not considered. ‘If you could make several of these, perhaps enough for a small stock, I would be beyond grateful. These will be given out for certain recoveries only, others will just require the cone.’

‘I can even make these pets look quite fashionable post-surgery.’

The veterinarian laughs, clapping his massive hands once.

‘That will not be needed, that might be a tad much. Practicality and comfort need to be prioritised over beauty here. However, I can compromise and let you choose different fabrics, so long as they are suitable for the animals’ recovery and within budget. I am not strict when it comes to prints, although they must remain presentable, of course.’

‘How about I go home and fetch the tressym’s shirt to study the pattern and I make you one by the end of the day? Then you can judge the quality yourself and base your decision on it.’

Halsin considers Astarion’s offer for a second, then nods in approval.

‘Very well. I will ask Karlach to drive you home so you can fetch your material and equipment and then you can work in the recovery room, there will be plenty of space for you to work. Would that be suitable for you?’

‘Perfect,’ Astarion smiles, internally cursing Halsin for not letting him work from home instead. He has no wish whatsoever to bring all his equipment from his house, but what choice does he have?

‘That settles it, then.’

The two of them stand up and Halsin tosses Astarion’s empty cup into the bin, before showing him back to the reception. Karlach instantly looks up, eager to know how it went. Before she can even ask, her boss hands her a set of keys.

‘Could you drive Astarion to his home so he can bring his equipment here? You can take my car, it is parked on the side of the house. I also would like you to use the company card and let him buy some suitable fabric for his tryout from the haberdashery.’

‘Ugh,’ Astarion groans with a roll of his eyes, ‘from the fabric shop, grandpa!’

‘Sorry?’

‘Nothing!’

Without wasting time, Karlach links arms with Astarion and guides him out to Halsin’s car, already chatting away happily. Left alone at the practice, Halsin sighs and stretches his back, before sitting behind the reception and browsing the latest wildlife photography posts on his favourite blogs and forums.

While his assistant and her friend are away, he answers a few phone calls and makes some appointments for new furry patients. Some of the owners, much to his delight, already tell him that they wish to transfer their pets’ files over to his practice out of practicality, but in some cases, because they only heard praise about his work. He already creates some of the files and sends the right requests to have the medical records passed over to him, then re-organises his agenda.

Four appointments occupy the first half of his morning, all going smoothly. One of his patients, a tiny puppy whose expression when panting always makes it look like it is smiling, came for his very first visit to the vet. Remembering Karlach’s advice, Halsin asks his owner if he can take a picture of the puppy so he can update Emerald Grove’s social media page and build a small community around it. He gives the dog two treats and waves it off as the satisfied owner leaves, eager to find his puppy’s photo online.

Halsin sits back on his chair and writes the post with the puppy’s picture, praising the little dog’s bravery during his first consultation, using its name with the owner’s consent. But as he is about to post it, the door opens and the little bell rings. Before he can look up, he hears a roaring but friendly voice.

‘Halsin, my good friend!’

‘Good morning, Minsc!’ he greets back, locking his phone and putting it away in one of the drawers. ‘How have you been?’

The forest ranger wipes his feet on the mat and steps forward with a beaming grin. Minsc is as tall as he is, making them stand out in town, and probably as broad as him as well. However, unlike the long and plaited locks on Halsin’s head, Minsc’s scalp is bare, only decorated with a purple tattoo that also covers his eye.

Minsc was one of the first people that Halsin met when he came to Heawick, back when he hesitated between settling down here or in Riverway, about thirty miles north. It was, partially, the ranger’s depiction of life in this town that tipped the scales in its favour. The eternal optimist, Minsc described it as a haven of peace, perfect for writers and those who have grown weary of the bustling city. He was quite right, from what Halsin has experienced so far. Everybody knows everybody, even between the neighbouring villages, and it seems that anyone is willing to go out of their way to give friends and acquaintances a helping hand.

Ever since he made his decision to make Heawick his home, Minsc regularly invites him over to his home for the occasional drink in his garden. There could not have been a more friendly face for one’s drastic life change.

‘Minsc has been good, my friend,’ the ranger replies in his thick accent, clapping him in the back. ‘He was wondering if you had some time to see Boo today?’

‘Anything wrong with your hamster, Minsc?’

‘Miniature giant space hamster,’ his friend corrects him with a finger pointing up. ‘The distinction is quite important. As vet, you should know.’

Halsin chuckles and notices Boo peeking out of Minsc’s breast pocket, rubbing its head with its tiny paws.

‘Boo is strong and well, only his claws are too long. Minsc told him to wear them down more often on wood, but Boo has mind of his own. A bit stubborn, at times.’

‘That is not a problem at all, follow me.’

He takes the wireless phone from reception and drops it in his pocket while guiding Minsc to the consultation room. Without being asked, Boo hops onto the table, continuing to take his bath. Halsin puts on his gloves and grabs the pet nail clipper. Minsc gently holds Boo in the palm of his hand.

‘Minsc holds Boo. He wouldn’t want him to think that you are foe, my friend! Oh, heard about Mr Bongle from Combury?’

Halsin smiles to himself and nods.

‘I have,’ he speaks quietly while starting to trim the hamster’s claws. As Minsc said, they have not been worn down in a while, considering how curved they are. ‘He confessed to setting up the bear trap in Combury, I heard?’

‘Yes! Minsc thought that Tav would gouge his eyes out on the spot! And honestly, he would not have intervened, no. Minsc doesn’t understand people’s cruelty with animals. Why do it? Animals are friends, unless they try to maul you.’

The concentrating veterinarian chuckles at these words. Tav has not struck him as a woman who would resort to violence, but he has witnessed firsthand how attached she is to her owlbear. Unless relocated, Beaky will never know a neglecting or abusive home, and he is sure of it.

‘Quite right. I do not understand it myself either.’

‘Do you know if Beaky is recovering well?’

‘No, I do not. He went home yesterday morning and I have not heard anything from Miss Ashguard since.’

‘Oh.’

Finishing up the hamster’s hind paws, Halsin moves on to the front pair.

‘She told me that you referred her to an animal protection lawyer. I am glad that you did.’

‘Ah, Minsc only does his job.’

‘Still. With Mr Bongle agreeing to cover the veterinary costs, it was easy for you or even her to drop the matter altogether. But I am happy to hear that you decided against it. Besides, if you or she needs Beaky’s medical report following the incident, I will be happy to make one. You can refer the lawyer to me if they get in touch with you.’

‘How nice of you, my friend! Perhaps it will be handy. Tav will tell,’ Minsc declares, before looking down at his hamster and smiling. ‘Boo will make sure that nobody hurts Beaky anymore!’

‘That is an honourable goal,’ Halsin laughs, cutting the last of the animal’s nails. ‘And here you go.’

‘Thank you, friend!’

Halsin quickly writes down the impromptu consultation in his log and removes his gloves, tossing them in his bin.

‘If Boo is unwilling to walk on wood to trim his nails, I recommend that you use cork wherever it is that he spends the night. If he has a food bowl, coat the path around it with cork so he will walk on it. You can also put some on his wheel, but I do recommend buying one that already has that. I can send you a link for it.’

‘Great advice, Minsc will look for that. Do you hear that, Boo? You need to walk on cork!’

He lifts his hamster and tucks it in his pocket again. After a brief conversation, Minsc pays for the consultation and leaves in even higher spirits than when he arrived. Soon after, Karlach and Astarion return, carrying his sewing machine and a bag of supplies, some that he already owns and others they acquired at the fabric shop.

Karlach takes Astarion to the recovery room and brings him a chair for him to work in a comfortable environment. She closes the door behind her as she returns to the lobby, finding Halsin standing there.

‘Hiya there, Doc! Astarion’s about to start making the shirt.’

‘Perfect.’

‘Anything happened while we were gone?’

‘All four patients were received, and Minsc came to have Boo’s nails trimmed.’

‘Aw, dang! I’m gutted that I missed him, I love this guy.’

She sits behind the desk at reception and checks the agenda for the other appointments of the day. Halsin has a look as well, then proceeds to show her the post he wants to post with the puppy he examined earlier in the morning. Karlach takes his work phone and tweaks the text, explaining as gently as she can — which means not subtly — that his manner of writing makes him sound antiquated.

Halsin takes no offense, however. He is much aware of how little experience he has got when it comes to social media. He used to have his own profile, but besides using it for the occasional farming game, he found little use to it. In truth, he struggled to even comprehend how it worked. There was never any profile picture set, since he did not know how to upload one. It was Karlach who taught him how for the practice’s official page, and even then, he still struggles with it all. Not that it occupies his thoughts much, of course.

Once Karlach has posted the photo online, Halsin leans towards her and whispers.

‘Karlach, this friend of yours, do you trust him when it comes to working? He told me what caused him to lose his license and I must say that this worries me.’

The tiefling smiles, although taken aback by the sudden question.

‘I would trust him with my life, and you know that I don’t give my trust to just anyone,’ she declares with a solemn tone that strangely does little to ease Halsin’s worries.

‘His work… problems, do you know if they are commonplace with him? Do you think I should call his manager at Szarr for a reference?’

‘No need, Doc!’ Karlach responds while waving a dismissive hand. ‘He’s just going through a rough time. Actually he’s one of the best lawyers in his firm! If there’s a dire case, they usually refer to him.’

He nods slowly. He is struggling to figure Astarion out. He is a man who obviously possesses a lot of talent, especially when it comes to sewing. If anything, Halsin cannot wrap his head around the fact that he is a lawyer and not a designer or tailor. Perhaps this sort of career would suit him better.

But what could have driven such a successful lawyer, if he is to trust Karlach’s word, to throw it all away so recklessly? Surely if he has so little consideration for his career, there must be something at hand. If he is experiencing a burn-out, there are other ways for him to cope, and surely Karlach, as his good friend, would have advised him to seek medical help. And if the matter is one of the heart, then that is quite a different problem. She could do her best to help him, but ultimately he has to be the one to cope with the issue. However, it seems that he is married, and the waistcoat that he designed for his husband is quite recent. Merely a month old.

What to do?

‘Well. I will not call his firm,’ Halsin sighs. ‘I will trust you on this.’

‘You will not regret it, Doc, I promise you.’

He smiles at her and pats her shoulder, which instantly illuminates her eyes.

‘After all, it is just for three months and it is merely sewing. Nothing so dire as pet surgery.’

‘Exactly! Plus, he loves sewing and working on his own. He hates it when people are in his space when he’s focused, so that’s a win-win situation if you ask me.’

‘We shall see. The pet shirt will decide.’

Halsin grins and paces towards his office. He sits behind his desk with a sigh and grabs the salad he has been keeping for his lunch break, but since he is already hungry, he prefers to indulge himself already. While chewing his seasoned lettuce, he opens his browser and pauses, thinking about something to search for. He eyes his tasklist but sees that he is up to date already.

Without thinking, he types in the words ‘Szarr Associates’ and reads about the law firm. When skimming an article in an opinionated online newspaper, he grimaces when he reads that the firm has a tendency to save the hinds of big corporation leaders when sued for environmental damage or violation of workers’ rights. Decidedly, that is not improving his image of Astarion.

Putting his fork down, he adds ‘Ancúnin’ to his research and finds a few articles from several sources. He clicks on the first one, a news site supposedly neutral. Under the title is a photograph, and he quickly recognises Astarion in his robes, raising his hand at prying journalists while accompanying a man with a sombre expression on his face.

‘Big win for Arledrian Group, sued by a worker’s union for an alleged case of salary withdrawal. Wilril Mistflow, 28, joined the union after his employers supposedly refused to pay out overtime hours after several months. When Mistflow demanded to receive his payment, he claims that the company repeatedly withheld his salary, causing him to fail to pay his rent on multiple occasions. “This whole debacle has almost cost me my home,” Mistflow declared to the press. “I can only hope that they will see reason and finally give me what they owe me. I worked extra so I didn’t have to worry at the end of the month, but it’s done just the opposite.” Ruthos Sine, the regional manager of the branch where Mistflow is employed, appeared at court under the counsel of Astarion Dekarios-Ancúnin, a top lawyer from Szarr Associates. The court ruled that Arledrian Group was not at fault and a contract termination has already been issued against Mistflow.’

Halsin shudders at the thought that Astarion has defended such people and managed to save them from trouble for what seems to him like sheer injustice. He sighs and plants his fork in his salad, trying to put things into perspective. Defending such scum is merely Astarion’s job. Justice cannot be carried out fairly unless all parties are represented, and that only means that Karlach’s friend is a link in this chain. Hopefully that is not telling of his character.

Putting his morals aside for the time being, Halsin finishes his food and spends the day doing his work. About two hours after Karlach and Astarion returned from the fabric shop, they hear the faint clicking sounds of the sewing machine inside the recovery room. Halsin’s worries are somewhat quelled; at least it seems that the deprived lawyer does take his task seriously.

When the last patient leaves and it is closing time, Astarion comes out with a bunch of folded fabrics under his arm. Karlach locks the door and turns the sign on it, while Halsin wraps up his call to a supplier to order more dog kibble for the practice. Upon seeing the pale man, still with his sunglasses on, he rushes the conversation and eventually hangs up.

‘Ah, Astarion, there you are! You did not even take a break, are you not hungry?’

‘Oh, no, I’m fine,’ he mumbles. ‘Big dinner at home tonight anyway.’

‘I see. Did everything go well?’

Astarion walks over to the counter and unfolds all three shirts that he has created. He made them in different sizes, all befitting several types of animals. The first one, cut from an elastic fabric with floral patterns is perfect for a kitten around sterilisation age. Its hems are decorated with pleated green fabric, giving the impression that it has sleeves. The second one, adorned with blue feathers on a white background, stands out with adjustable holes cut out in the back. The third, suitable for a dog, was sewn from a burgundy fabric with paw prints and adorned at the collar with a fake lace ruffle.

Halsin chuckles at the sight of the frills and picks them up to examine the handiwork.

‘We will not need all these fashion details,’ he says, ‘since they are supposed to remain medical garments. But I must admit that the diversity in patterns is something we can offer. I suppose it can help the owners with dealing with the surgery as well. It makes the whole thing seem less dramatic.’

Karlach gasps as she admires the garments over his shoulder. Maintaining a serious and professional demeanour, Astarion steps forward and picks up the second suit to show its structure.

‘This one is modelled after the tressym shirt that I brought as reference. Technically it was just a cat shirt that the vet adjusted for our Tara. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough push buttons for this one, but I marked where I’d position them on the flaps. They can be adjusted according to the tressym’s wing size.’

‘Quite clever.’

Halsin takes a deep breath and looks the younger man in the eyes.

‘Listen, Astarion, I have done a superficial background check on you. I read that you are quite the prolific lawyer, but your recent… blunders do worry me. If I take you in for your community service, can I trust you?’

The man, put on the spot, is about to grace the veterinarian with one of his usual snarky remarks. But when he sees Karlach giving him a reproving look while Halsin is not looking, he stops the words from flowing out. He merely clears his throat, although visibly bugged by the question.

‘You can.’

‘Uh, Fangs?’ Karlach calls him in a soft tone, which earns her a glare from Astarion. ‘Perhaps you should let him know about your condition?’

Halsin frowns and looks back at the younger man, who sighs and finally removes his sunglasses. Under them, ruby-coloured irises seem to have been the object of this attempted dissimulation.

‘Oh,’the veterinarian says in a surprisingly calm tone. ‘I see.’

‘Yes, I’m a vampire,’ Astarion scoffs and clicks his tongue. ‘I suppose that it’s the moment you kick me out?’

The older man chuckles and shakes his head.

‘Not at all. If you can promise that the animals and owners here are safe around you, then I see no issue with your condition.’

Astarion appears genuinely surprised to hear that he is not about to be thrown out the door for his nature. His fingers fidget with the tressym shirt as he thinks over a way to thank him. But thanks are not often part of his vocabulary.

‘I promise,’ he declares, biting his tongue.

Halsin considers him for a second, before holding out his hand.

‘If you think I can trust you and if you think you could survive working here for as long as you need to have your license back, then do you think you could come back tomorrow?’

The vampire stares at the hand for a moment and finally allows a smile to grace his cheeks. He shakes his hand firmly.

‘Now that is done, I will discuss some details with you. Since you are a vampire, you are allowed to bring blood into the office as long as you don’t scare the patients and owners off. I can allow several breaks for your back’s sake and you can fetch blood from the butcher’s while on the clock, as long as you do not abuse the opportunity.’

‘Sounds good.’

Halsin nods and pats his back.

‘Welcome to the team, Astarion.’

Taglist: @emmanuellececchi @reignydeys @cakenpiewhyohmy

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter Two

(AO3 Link) | Master List

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You).

Word Count: 3240 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT), violence description.

WARNING: Contains violence description.

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A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Happy Monday!

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Chapter Two - Six

The ground shakes beneath you as the boom of a war horn ravages the forest. You stand behind Minthara on a large boulder. There’s a small gathering of tieflings above the ivy-covered gate, and they don’t seem like powerful druids. Your heart plummets in guilt.

What have I done? These people… Gods, they’re barely even armoured… They’re all going to die…

Your mind continues swimming in panic. You scan the crowd of goblins, it’s clear to see that they’re outnumbered. They don’t stand a chance. A singular arrow darts towards you, Minthara swipes it to the side with effortless magical ability. “Blow that gate open! Now!” She commands. The goblins release their warcries. Some, carrying barrels of explosives, rush to the gate. Arrows rain from the sky and puncture as many foes as they can but it’s not enough. Through smoke and floating gunpowder, you can see the destruction of the gate. The grove is compromised. But before Minthara can give further command, you spot silhouettes amongst the wreckage. 

Six silhouettes, all different in stature and weight. A very odd-looking alliance, indeed. Minthara holds her tongue, waiting for them to reveal themselves so as to gauge this new enemy’s abilities. 

Weighted thumps on soil grow faster and louder as two of the silhouettes reveal themselves. A powerful, red tiefling, brandishing a greataxe with what looks to be living fire escaping her chest leaps forward, burning rage in her eyes. Then a skilled, female, githyanki warrior slicing through goblins with no hesitation and shaking off hits like they’re nothing. They make quick work of their foes, pushing the army back.

Behind them, a black-haired half-elf can be seen healing the injured with one hand and casting radiating destruction spells with the other.

Just as they’re beginning to feel overwhelmed by enemies, a ray of devastating lighting scorches the earth, electrocuting all goblins in it’s path. Your eyes follow it to the source, a human in a humble, purple robe, his eyes filled with determination and pride at his own magic.

The scorched goblins begin to twitch and spasm. You flick your gaze back to them, realising that they are dead no longer and are now fighting for the opposite side. By the gate, another human with a darker complexion, noble attire and a rapier in hand stands proudly, leading his new, undead army into battle.

That’s one, two, three, four, five… There were six… Weren’t there?

Minthara snarls and leaps into the centre of battle. Surrounded by these new, mighty enemies, she calls upon Lolth to aid her before attacking each foe with excellent precision and strength. You look around, frantically trying to keep up before realising… This is it. Your chance to escape. Your breath shudders as you slowly back away and once out of Minthara’s field of view, you run.

The makeshift shoes you were given start to rip and come apart beneath you with each desperate collision with the floor. You look back to ensure that you aren’t being followed, then you… Stop? The wind in your lungs is forced out of you as your back hits something solid. But that can’t be, there was nothing there, right? You feel a cold, hard, sharp sensation against your neck, your breath hitches. You try to wriggle free from whatever this is, but something strong holds you in place. In confusion and panic you go to let out a shriek before, yet again, you are stopped. A soft, smooth, cold texture contains the sound within your mouth. “Shh…” Suddenly the force around your mouth becomes opaque: a hand. The sensation on your neck: a dagger. The solid pressed firmly up against your back: A person.

Number six…

“If I move my hand, are you going to scream?” A male voice hums into your ear. You shake your head in response, there are no tears in your eyes, only fury.

You. Were. So. Close.

“Are you sure? I’d hate to ruin such a pretty neck…” His threats are theatrical, but you hear his earnesty and feel his eyes burning into your exposed skin. He allows the dagger to make a small, irritating cut on your neck to emphasise his point. Breathing comfortably would surely deepen the wound and seeing no way out, you give in and douse the fire inside of you, for now. You nod. He slowly removes his hand and you catch your first glimpse of him. His hand is pale and his nails are manicured. There is little hair and through his almost translucent skin, you see hints of dark veins. You feel his breath on your ear, it’s surprisingly warm for someone so cold.

His now free hand grips the plush skin of your arm and he moves the dagger to allow you to breathe as normal, but ensures that the threat remains. He guides you back to the, now quieter, battlefield. Minthara is on her knees, clutching her stomach, blood slipping through the gaps between her fingers. She coughs and gasps, lifting her head to see you, captured again. “T-true… S-soul…” Her words aren’t of sorrow, but of pride that you are still standing. She knows death will soon claim her, but you? You can finish her quest and bring glory to The Absolute. She grins. A greatsword’s blade, coated in thick red, is held beside Minthara’s neck. “Any last words, istik?” The githyanki sneers.

Minthara does not break her eye contact with you. “F-for… The Abso-” The sword traps her words in her throat forever, as it severs her head in one fell swoop. It rolls towards you, her now limp grin of devotion still smeared across her face.

You begin to breathe deeply… Heavily… You can’t breathe… You need air, now. You try to escape your captor’s grasp, you’re going to die, you’re sure of it. “Let her go!” The tiefling’s command frees your body and you feel your legs give out from underneath you. No matter how much air you suck into your lungs, you can only suffocate.

A warm, delicate hand rests on your back and rubs it in firm circles. “Breathe properly now. With me. In… And out…” A gentle, yet guarded voice attempts to guide you back to reality, but it isn’t working. The half-elf shrugs and looks to her companions for assistance, to which the githyanki scoffs and rolls her eyes. You rake your fingers through the soil, desperately trying to ground yourself when - Black. __________________________________________

How long has it been? Is this… Death? No, it feels too familiar. Sleep? It could be. It’s certainly peaceful… But it can’t be, mine doesn’t feel like this anymore. Mine is more… Restless… I haven’t felt like this in… Well, too long anyway…

No… Please don’t go…  Just a little longer… Please… __________________________________________

The world is fuzzy when seeing it through barely open eyes. Green sways above you, sheltering you from sharp lines of yellow light. Your eyes open further. It’s midday, same as before, as though no time has passed. How much time has passed? You begin to sit up to get your bearings. “Woah there soldier, take it easy.” You flinch at the voice and search, eyes wide for danger. It’s the tiefling from earlier. “It’s okay! It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” You huddle yourself into a ball, keeping your eyes on hers and shuffle away. She smiles with such warmth you almost feel tempted to let your guard down, almost. “The name’s Karlach, and you are?”

“What makes you think I’d tell you? Your friend held a dagger to my throat!” You force anger through your fear and surprisingly, Karlach seems to understand. She sighs and nods, rubbing her face. “I know, I’m sorry. I wish there was no need for it, but you have to understand, we don’t know what we’re dealing with here. Before we can trust you and let you go, we need to know who you are.” You know better than to trust promises of freedom, but then you look around. 

You seem to have found yourself in a humble camp, surrounded by one-person tents, hardly a prison. An unlit campfire stands in the centre and your captors are idly going about their business. All of them you recognise, all except one. A lean, pale elf with white, well kept curls meticulously arranged on his head. He stands, reading a book amongst neighbouring silk cushions that are scattered around the entrance of his tent. There’s even a stool right next to him, but he chose to stand. Weird. Watching him turn the page, you notice his familiar hands. You grit your teeth and furrow your brow. That’s the fucker that caught you.

Flicking your eyes back to Karlach, you can see how desperately she wants you to cooperate. You check your ankles and wrists, there are no restraints. “How long was I out for?” You ask in a dull, numb voice.

“A day.”

You nod, realising how energised you feel, a rare occurrence for you. “And… How?” Although you’re grateful for the rest, the last thing you remember was clawing at the ground, not exactly a bedtime routine. 

“Oh… Ha ha… Well…” She gestures to her head sheepishly, you place your hand on yours and jolt at the sudden pain, a bandage covers a gnarly bump on the right side of your head, then the headache hits you. “Ugh… Gods…” You rub your eyes but doing so only produces stars, you lay back down.

“Yeah, sorry about that too, soldier.” You hear approaching footsteps, but moving to protect yourself right now would be too painful.

“So, she’s awake at last… What now?” Asks a gentle, male voice. You try to peer through the stars to see which companion it is. You see… Purple. This must be the wizard.

“Yes, what now, indeed? Shall I get my tools and see what information I can get out of her?” You recognise this as the familiar voice of the half-elf.

“With all due respect, Shadowheart, I think she’s a bit… Out of it. Maybe adding more pain into the mix isn’t such a good idea.”

“Alright, what do you suggest?” She asks, clearly disappointed and irritated.

“You could start by sparing some magic and healing that wound on her head. She can’t even speak.” Shadowheart sighs and reluctantly casts Cure Wounds, your vision clears and the pain subsides.

Thank the Gods…

Finding your strength, you sit up once again and your eyes meet the wizard’s. His features are soft, kind, though you suppose looks can always be deceiving. “Welcome back. Now, let’s cut to the chase. You don’t trust us, we don’t trust you, that much is clear. But, we can help each other. And I’ll get into the ‘how’ of it all soon enough, but for now, I’ll settle for your name. I’m Gale, of Waterdeep.” He reaches his hand out to shake yours. You inspect it, searching for trickery, then you look at his face. He has a friendly, inviting smile and you sense no ulterior motive. You take his hand and shake it gently. “Tav.”

“Tav! Excellent.” Once you let go, he claps his hands and turns to his companions. “This is Shadowheart, our fierce cleric.” He gestures towards her, she forces a smile but unsuccessfully hides her distaste for the introduction. “And you’ve met Karlach.” She waves at you excitedly, seeming proud of you for opening up, just a little. She emanates friendliness, you can’t help but smile back. “Let’s see… That’s Lae’Zel, our resident githyanki.” He points her out, upon hearing her name, she looks over, sees you and immediately scoffs before returning to her task. “Over here we have Wyll, ‘The Blade of…” 

“The Blade of the Frontiers, at your service.” The one who bent the dead to his will approaches and performs a grand bow. “My lady.” You raise an eyebrow.

Is this guy for real?

You smile and nod politely. You take in his features as he raises his head. Brown skin, facial scars and one eye seemingly made of stone. Intriguing…

“And last but… Eh… not least, Astarion. The stealthiest of the bunch.” He doesn’t look up from his book, he just makes a vague, waving, hand gesture. You raise an eyebrow again, but this time you make no effort to conceal your judgement.

“Yes, I remember.” Just as you’re about to look away, you spot a smirk on his face. The prick.

“So, now that we’re all well acquainted, maybe now you could tell us everything you know about this ‘Absolute’, yes?” Gale looks at you expectantly.

“Hold on, you said we could help each other. What am I getting out of this?” The companions exchange worried glances before Karlach takes over.

“Well that all depends on your answers to our questions, soldier.” She looks at you apologetically.

“Seriously? You want me to give you all this information for the mere chance that you could give me something in return? Yeah, no thanks.” A moment of tension passes.

“We know what’s in your head and we have them too!” The words practically burst out of Karlach’s mouth, to everyone’s disapproval. Gale brings his hands to his head, eyes wide in disbelief at Karlach’s lack of control, Shadowheart essentially slaps her hand into her face, holding it there in disappointment, and Wyll just pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply, shaking his head. You get the slight feeling that you weren’t supposed to know that.

“You don’t mean…”

“Yes, that little worm in your skull. We all have one.” Shadowheart admits in defeat.

“How did you…?”

“Minthara, she called you True Soul. That seems to be the name for people like us.” Gale explains. “However, none of us have succumbed to ceremorphosis yet, nor are we under this ‘Absolute’s’ control. We want to understand why. Any information you can give us would be greatly appreciated.” You listen intently, his explanation that only fills your mind with further questions. You ask about ‘ceremorphosis’ and process the definition.

“I’m sorry, what now? You’re-… I’m-… We’re turning into MIND-FLAYERS?!”

“No- well, maybe? We aren’t quite sure. All we know is that our infection has been highly irregular thus far.”

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?! Interesting how Minthara left that fucking detail out!

“In any case, we’re searching for a cure. Please, if you know anything, anything at all, we need all the help we can get.” Gale pleads.

“And soldier, you do too.” You look up at Karlach who’s smile alone brings you down from another episode. You take a deep breath.

“A-alright…” You go on to describe your experience in the goblin camp and repeat all the information that Minthara shared with you during your time there. As you reach the point in the story of the ‘interrogation’, you are… selective with the details. Choosing to describe your actions through the eyes of a mere, horrified spectator rather than the confused, active participant you truly were. Astarion’s mouth twitches at your story as he cocks his head to the side. He seems intrigued. Too intrigued. The others listen and nod thoughtfully as you speak.

Once finished, they stand there in silence, processing. You search their faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of what their judgement of you will be. Gale breaks the silence: “Just a moment.” He gathers all companions, including Astarion and Lae’zel around the campfire, just out of earshot from you. You watch as each one has a turn to speak, occasionally glancing at you before returning to the conversation. It’s a passionate discussion between very strong personalities, it’s a wonder how they’ve remained allies for longer than a day. Eventually, you see nods of agreement, some begrudging and some pleased as they all turn and walk towards you.

Gale steps forward and attempts a formal speech pattern: “So… Tav, was it? We… we cannot, in good conscience, leave you to the, er- aforementioned fate. And so, we would like to extend an invitation to accompany us on our journey, as we search for a cure. What do you think?” You think for a moment, feeling all six pairs of eyes on you.

You sigh as you come to the realisation that you don’t have much choice. It’s either this, or ceremorphosis. You nod, yet still feel their unsure gaze. You give in and say the words: “Yes, alright. I’ll join you.”

You feel your companions relax… mostly. Lae’zel isn’t hiding how displeased she is with the arrangement before she leaves to tend to her collection of weaponry. Your stomach growls, no, roars. Loudly. It’s been over twenty-four hours and you haven’t had a single bite to eat. Karlach chuckles “You know what, mate? Me too. Gale, dinner time!” She taps her tummy as she follows Gale to the makeshift food station. Shadowheart leaves to light the campfire and Wyll smiles at you before helping her.

That’s one, two, three, four, five… and six.

Astarion stood, resting his weight on one hip, watching you. You look up at him, making eye contact. The slight warmth you feel towards your newfound companions grows colder once he is in your view. A brief look becomes a fight for dominance, neither party willing to lose. “Can I help you?” Your voice is laced with contempt, yet the only effect you have on him is widening his insufferable grin. He holds you in suspense for a moment before speaking.

“You don’t like me.” His tone is playful, flirty even.

“Hard to. First impressions are everything.” You slide yourself off the stone slab you used as a bed to face him properly, trying to regain control.

“Oh darling, you know I only did that because I had to.” He laughs and tilts his head down, intensifying his gaze, effortlessly. He steals a glance at the small cut on your neck, the corner of his mouth twitches in the thrill of knowing that he put it there. “But enough about the past. You’re one of us now, we should be… Acquainted. Don’t you agree?” You fold your arms and allow him to continue under the weight of your suspicious stare. “Well, I don’t know about you, but the idea of waking up to a dagger lodged in my chest doesn’t sound particularly appealing.”

“You’re not scared of me, are you?” You smirk back at him, unfolding your arms and finding your wide hips before resting on them with your hands. He steps closer and speaks softer.

“No, not scared. I just don’t trust those who withhold the truth.” Your smirk drops and your mind races.

What does he know? How could he know? No, this is stupid, there’s no way…

“Oh don’t worry darling, I would have trusted you even less if you had laid, whatever it is, bare for us all to see. That’s why I voted to let you stay.” You raise an eyebrow in surprise. “And just so you know, I didn’t tell the others.”

“Why not? What loyalty do you have to me?”

“Oh, absolutely none, my dear… But, you never know when an ally might be useful.” He chuckles to himself, tucking his hair behind his pointed ear.

“You’re a smug one, aren’t you?”

“Hmm… Some say smug, some say charming, it’s all the same really when you get what you want. So… Allies?” He leans in, expecting an agreeable reply. You scoff at his audacity before rolling your eyes and giving him what he wants.

“Allies.”

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