#like from baby gale to now gale

[cowboygenes]

The Life Cycle of A Star

[merlinmerlot]

i finally finished bg3

and it only took me [looks at steam]

SIX HUNDRED HOURS

[psychofreakforc]

-Visiting Gale

It's been one week.

One week since Sam wore her father's ghostface costume.

One week since Tara had to see two other friends dying at their hands.

One week since Gale almost die.

Tara knows that the relationship between Gale and Sam is complicated, but she also knows how much her sister looks up to her.

It's almost like she's the mother figure that sam has never had.

And if Tara has to be honest, she also sees Gale that way.

Sam has been miserable ever since Gale ended up at the hospital. Unless it's to go to work, She barely goes out of her room, barely talks to anyone and barely eats.

Of course, Tara won't let her sister's self-destructive mechanism win.

Sam is stubborn, but Tara is on another level of stubbornness.

"Okay you need to stop, get out of the bed"

"No, leave me alone" sam said, covering herself with the covers.

'25, but she acts like a child', tara thinks.

Tara, being the sweet little sister she is, pushed sam out of her bed, and that ended up with Sam falling on her back on the floor.

"TARA! Did you forget i'm still injured?" Yes, actually. Tara was so focused on pursuing her mission to get Sam out of bed that she did forget her sister got stabbed.

Well, it's too late now.

"Not my fault. I tried to ask you nicely but you didn't listen" Tara said with a smug smile on her face. She then added "Go take a shower and get dressed, we're going somewhere"

Sam, of course, did not listen to her and decided that the bed was a much better option than what Tara proposed.

Why did Tara even think that it was going to be easy to convince her?

"SAM! will you just get the fuck out of this bed?" Now Tara was gettin impatient.

"i'm older than you, and i can do whatever i want"

Oh.

Okay. Sam wants to play the big sister card? Let's play it then.

Sam thought she won. Tara finally stopped trying.

But Sam should know better than that.

Tara Carpenter doesn't give up easily.

It's been 30 minutes since Tara left her room without saying anything. Has she gone too far? Has Tara really gotten offended by her words?

Sam was about to get out of bed and check on Tara, when she heard HER voice.

"Get out of this bed c'mon"

No. She did not call her.

"I know you heard me."

Oh no, she did.

Kirby Reed was standing at Sam's door with that little shit smirking next to her.

"You said you wouldn't follow my orders because i'm not old enough, so i called someone that is old enough to help me out" Tara said in a proud and devilish tone.

Yeah, Tara was right. Her plan worked. Sam took a shower and got dressed, and with kirby's help, she was even able to convince her to eat something.

But now there's the actual real hard part.

"So where are we going?" Sam asked curiously.

Tara and Kirby kept glancing at each other without saying a word.

"Hello? Are you two still here? Where are we going?" But after not getting an answer again, Sam lost her *already* non-existent patience. "If you don't tell me, i'm going back to my room, and it won't be that easy to get me out of -"

"We're going to see Gale" Tara decided to admit.

"Absolutely not" Sam ran into her room again and slammed the door.

Mh. That went better than she expected.

"I'm going to talk to her" Kirby said, already heading to Sam's room, but Tara stopped her.

She had to be the one dealing with it. It's her sister.

"Sam? I just want to talk, i promise that if you really don't want to, we don't have to go" Tara tried to be as convincing as possible.

A few minutes pass before a distraught Sam opens the door and falls into Tara's arms, sobbing.

Oh... something must be really wrong with her, Tara knows her sister. She doesn't act like this. The only time she saw Sam being an emotional wreck was when Gale was attac- Wait.

Tara was starting to connect the dots.

"You don't- you don't think that Gale getting hurt is your fault do you?"

"Yes, i do, because- because IT IS my fault. Why would she even want to see me? I'm the one who put her in a hospital bed." Sam cried even harder, feeling completely unable to calm down.

Tara didn't say anything.

Her original plan was to NOT force Sam into going to see Gale.

But Tara knows that Sam will never believe her words unless she sees it with her own eyes.

And that's why she drags Sam out of her room and into Kirby's car.

The car ride to the hospital was hell for both Tara and Kirby, Sam hasn't stopped complaining for one second. She's acting like an actual child throwing tantrums.

Oh, Tara is so going to tease her for it when she feels better.

They finally arrive at the hospital.

Tara ends up literally having to push Sam into Gale's room. She knew that it would've been hard but not THIS hard.

There's a moment of silence between them. No one dares to speak. They're just all staring at each other.

The peaceful silence is broken when Tara and Kirby start laughing unstoppably at Sam's inaudible "Hi Gale." Of course, they were aware that Sam was going to kick their asses the moment they stepped one foot out of this room.

But at least it was worth it.

"What happened to you? Did i break the big bad Samantha Carpenter?" Gale said, surprising everyone.

Tara, for the first time in days, saw Sam genuinely smiling.

It's been another week from the day Sam finally visited Gale at the hospital, and they've been inseparable ever since.

You might think it's a positive thing.

But no.

For Tara, it isn't.

Everyday. Every single day. Sam refuses to leave Gale's hospital room when visiting hours end.

And Tara, every single day, has to forcefully drag Sam out of the room.

It's not always bad. Sometimes, Sam is more collaborative than other days, but today is not one of them.

"Sam, please, for the love of god, we need to go, or they'll call the cops... again."

"No. Who even decides visiting hours? I can visit Gale whenever i want."

"Yeah, that's not how it works"

"And i couldn't care-"

"I am demanding you to get the hell out of my room and listen to your sister." Gale interrupts the sister's daily fight.

"But-" Sam saw the look Gale gave her and decided it was better to shut her mouth and stop giving Tara a hard time. "Okay, but promise me you will call me if you need anything"

"Yes Sam. Now go"

"And remember to stay hydrated"

"Yes"

"And get some sleep"

"I will, if you finally let me rest"

"And text me when you wake up"

"I will get up from this bed and kick you out myself if you don't disappear in the next 5 seconds."

Alright, it's time for sam to actually leave the room this time.

Mh Tara is being too quiet, Sam thought.

Weird- oh.

Maybe she should really try to make this easier for her.

Tara was asleep on a chair outside of Gale's room.

[tiberius-kirks]

just spent like. An entire hour reloading from my last save to make sure I could have the refugee party scene with shadowheart only to have my sweet cheese boy astarion DISAPPROVE when my tav said they were excited

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companion Romances in a nutshell because I've been playing the game and I have brain rot

Karlach: Haha, if we focus on how much we love each other the sense of impending doom might go away what inevitable tragic ending kiss me again lover!

Minthara: Help! She's breaking me faster than I can fix her!

Astarion: Hey baby, lemme just get close to you so you'll never let me get hurt, you're such a useful pawn wait a minute what the fuck no I wasn't SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY LIKE YOU WHAT-

Gale: Protecting your cringefail boyfriend from his abusive ex.

Lae'zel: A tsundere who will actually fucking kill you, now with cult deprogramming.

Shadowheart: Enemies to friends to lovers, now with cult deprogramming.

Wyll: Protecting your cringefail boyfriend from his predatory business contract.

Halsin: Hippie Johnny Bravo.

[talesofesther]

first in my heart

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.

A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.

Word count: 4,7k

Masterlist

"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.

To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.

And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.

Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.

He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.

Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.

It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.

The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.

You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.

With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.

"What are you up to, my sweet?"

The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.

The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.

You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."

You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.

Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"

The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."

Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."

He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.

You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.

Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.

He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.

And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"

A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.

You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.

The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.

When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.

You didn't.

You said you cared for him. You hugged him.

There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.

Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.

He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.

Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.

Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.

There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.

With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.

It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.

But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.

The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.

Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.

Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.

"Astarion?"

With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.

"Is everything okay?"

Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.

Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"

The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.

You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."

But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?

Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.

He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.

Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.

He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.

Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.

Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.

And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.

He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.

You could only hope he would adore it just as much.

It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.

Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.

You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.

Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.

You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.

With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.

You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.

"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.

You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.

"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.

You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."

His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.

"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.

A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.

You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.

For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.

You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.

"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.

Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.

"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"

You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."

A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.

You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.

Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.

The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.

A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.

He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.

People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.

Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.

Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.

You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.

Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.

"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.

"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."

Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.

There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.

Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.

You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.

When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."

You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[fandom-go-round]

bg3 companions + their reactions to finding out they knocked up fem tav? 👀 (for the ladies we can say they're trans or it's magic)

I wrote my boy first because he’s the best, can you guess who it is? Hint: He’s my first romance. No guess for you lovely requestor because you know too much LOL

Also I’m ignoring cannon endings here because we want to end up happy with babies. No angst here, begone!

Warnings: Implied Sex, Implied Sexual Situations, Pregnant Tav, Babies, Pregnancy Thing (Morning Sickness)

Astarion:

At first, he thinks that you’re joking. Vampires can’t have children after all, that’s a pretty basic fact. When you’re insistent, part of him wants to accuse you of cheating, as much as it pains him. That’s a part of him still tainted by Cazador and he muffles it as best he can. Astarion is going to insist you go to a healer together; if you’re not pregnant, something must be going on you need help with. When Shadowheart confirms you’re with child, he’s at a loss. Astarion doesn’t know what to say, truly.

After the initial shock, he goes on the hunt for anything and everything about human-vampire babies. The records are hard to find and some are locked far, far away but he finds them all. He can be very persuasive after all. It’s in one of these books that he figures out how you two made a baby; he’s going to be very careful taking your blood from now on. Speaking of, Astarion will refuse to drink from you while you pregnant, no ifs ands or buts. This is a firm boundary for him, even if you smell more and more delicious the farther along you get.

The pregnancy is hard and Astarion is afraid he’s going to lose you. The birth is especially gruesome and it’s only because of Shadowheart and Halsin that you’re alive. He wants to resent the baby for how you suffered but he can’t, they’re just too perfect. He’s afraid of getting too close, of tainting this little thing but you refuse to let him be apart. The first time he holds your child he weeps and it’s over. Astarion is always going to struggle with his emotions and feelings about being a father but never about how much he loves them. Also, he’s completely in charge of their wardrobe; you’re going to have the best-looking baby in the entire city hands down.

Gale:

Gale was always on the fence about kids. Sure they’re cute but they’re also loud and he struggles to take care of himself, let alone a little squishy creature. That doesn’t mean he’s upset when you tell him you’re pregnant, not at all. He’s just doing furious calculations in his mind and it looks like he’s crashed. Give his brain a moment to reset and he’ll give you a large grin and lean down to kiss you. Tara is the first person the two of you tell and she’s excited, vowing to be the baby’s protector. Gale loves her even more which is quite the feat. His mother is next and she immediately starts offering help. He just can’t get over how perfect his family is, it feels like a dream sometimes. 

He takes a very technical approach to your pregnancy, like everything. Gale is reading all of the baby books and using all of the tracking charts he can get his hands on. He even goes to talk to midwives, wanting an expert opinion. It’s very sweet of him but you have to remind him that all babies grow at their own pace. He just wants to be the best dad he can and for him, that means more information. It is funny to watch him change a diaper for the first time but he never backs down from a challenge! Maybe he can use magic…?

He’s a mess when you actually go into labor. Gale swore he would be with you the entire time and then passed out in the final moments. He wakes up to a healthy baby and immediately starts crying. He enjoys being a dad, especially teaching your child new things. Your kid is going to have a huge curious streak that Gale will feed with vigor. He doesn’t consciously want your kid to be a wizard but would be overjoyed to have more in common with them.

Wyll:

Wyll is over the moon, as surprised as he is. Kids are something that he’s always wanted to have eventually and with you, his favorite person? What could go wrong? Of course, he’ll hear out your concerns if you have any and can have difficult conversations around pregnancy and child birth. One benefit of being a noble is that he has resources to help; whatever you want will be yours. He’s nervous to tell his dad but once the older man starts to tear up, he knows that he’s made a good choice. Wyll wants his family to be whole and happy.

He’s a chronic hoverer, as cute and frustrating as that is. Even in the early stages of pregnancy Wyll will try to do everything for you; moving a trunk? He’s got that, don’t strain yourself. Trying to cook dinner? Let him help you love. Be firm that you can do things yourself and he’ll back off. Just know that when you turn to ask him for help he’ll be waiting in the wings to be your hero. He’s also a pro at helping you figure out cravings. Wyll won’t complain if you wake him up in the middle of the night to go get something from the kitchen. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and rocking together; you being in his arms is his favorite thing.

He’s a trooper during the birth, being there the entire time. It takes a long time and he does worry but he encourages you and is your personal cheerleader. He can’t stop smiling after the baby is born, tracing their cheeks and forehead. As much as it would be funny to say Wyll struggles with being a dad, he really doesn’t. He loves your child so much, you’re surprised he never brought up kids in the first place. He is very much the definition of doting father but don’t let that fool you, he takes no disrespect, especially towards you. You’re the ruler of the house and Wyll is your backup. He’s the perfect mix of fun and strict dad. Now if he can convince you to have others…

Karlach:

Karlach is over the moon when you find our you’re pregnant. She had noticed you felt off and encouraged you to go to the doctor. Neither of you were expecting the baby news, as silly as it sounds. That doesn’t stop her form immediately lifting you up with a loud ‘whoop!’ and spinning your around the room. She loves babies! She loves you! This is going to be great.

She insists on redoing a room just for the baby. Even if their crib is going to be in your room for the first few months, Karlach wants your kid to have their own space. She paints the walls, builds all the furniture, everything. She asks for you opinion on decorations and doesn’t do anything without checking with you first but it’s her labor of love. It’s also her project for when she gets anxious thinking about the future. What is something goes wrong with her heart? What if something is wrong with the baby? What is the birth is too much for you? All of these thoughts get washed away in making the baby’s room perfect and then she goes to talk to you.

Karlach helps as much as she can during the birth aka you kick her (lovingly) into the hall to go grab towels so she stops hovering. When she gets back the baby is almost here and there’s no time to panic, just watch with wide eyes. She thinks you’re even more of a badass for going through all that and asks to hold the baby fist. Karlach cries holding them; they’re so cute and small and they’re the perfect mix of the two of you. She’s defiantly going to be the fun mom and there will be moments where it feels like you have two kids to scold. She takes safety very seriously, however, and is the first to lecture about stranger danger. Your kid will never feel unloved or unsafe, Karlach swears it on her life. This is her family now and no one else can have them.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel struggles with the news that you’re having a baby. Partly because she never thought that she could have kids and the other part because she’s terrified about being a mom. She wasn’t raised in a traditional Faerunian way; no where on the continent can be compared to being raised Gith. She needs time to process on her own and it’ll be a few days before she comes back ready to talk. Take her concerns seriously and, if you truly want to keep the baby, she’ll raise them with you. She loves you after all.

It takes her a bit to understand all the changes your body is going through. It’s horrifying and amazing to watch your stomach swell and she loves gently cradling your bump as it grows. She doesn’t know what to do about the crying, except when someone else makes you cry. Then it’s easy: she wants to kill them. That usually makes you laugh and you’re able to talk her out of bodily harm. You do have some nice shop discounts now. Lae’el is very much your guard dog and she fulfills her position with pride.

The entire birthing process just shows Lae’zel that you’re the strongest person she knows. She’s completely impressed by how you handle everything and has a new respect for moms everywhere. She still thinks it’s gross and inefficient but badass all the same. Lae’zel is a strict mom but soft in her own way. She’s still learning to be kind to herself and the world around her. Your child will never feel the brunt of her frustration or confusion; they will, however, be able to swing a sword much too young. She beams with pride the first time your child beheads a training dummy and you know, deep deep down, that the two of them going to be trouble.

Shadowheart:

She starts to notice the signs before you do, honestly. At first it’s little things; you’re tired quicker, you’re more sensitive to certain smells. The big one is that you start to get morning sickness, frequently. Shadowheart finally sits you down after the fifth morning in a row over a bucket and checks you over. You’re pregnant all right, not doubt there. She’s going to be as surprised as you; you were both good about protection. Surprise baby!

She’s fairly neutral about kids. She never thought that she would have any, serving Shar, but now there’s a little more appeal to them. The pooping and crying she could live without but the idea of there being someone made up of the two of you? Shadowheart likes the idea more than she would admit out loud. She starts researching pregnancy healing the midwifery right away; she doesn’t have a lot of expertise with babies but she is a healer.

Shadowheart insists on delivering your baby herself. She wants to be a part of this and while you’re going to be doing the hard part, she wants to support you. If you have an issue, she will relent but has to be in the room. Your delivery is flawless and as she holds the bloody baby in her hands, she feels full. Of love and hope and excitement, all those emotions she once would have sworn off. For the first time since you’ve found out you’re pregnant, she’s excited to be a mom. She’s a strict but loving mom, teasing her kid and embarrassing them in public (just a little, like a cheek pinch). Shadowheart loves singing to your kids, something neither of you knew until now. Your house is full of love and laughter and singing, just perfect.

[mistiell]

Ok so, maybe you knew this already or maybe not, but... In the game, if you hover over Astarion's original outfit it says that it looks rather old and mended over several times. The running theory is that he's been reparing his own clothes (explains the cheeky embroidery in his underwear) , since we damn well know that Cazador would not give two hoots about it, and that poor baby has been running around in a 200 year old shirt and probably doesn't have much clothes with him. I just want something fluffy... maybe the reader always let's him have first dibs on whatever they find or even gets him new clothes. I just imagine him finding a brand new shirt on his tent that is soft and comfortable and I just want to weep in a corner 🥺

Can you help a sister out?

Here you are <33 (also, I'm so sorry this took so long lol) WC: 1.3k Also CW for potential spoilers

---

Astarion is slow to wake this morning, fully intending to lay with you in his tent as long as you’ll allow. Rolling over with his eyes still closed, he reaches to hook his arm around your waist only to grasp at nothing but air.

He’s certainly awake now.

It’s unusual to find you missing given he’s usually the first to wake between the two of you; two hundred years of living in The Underdark and only ever surfacing at night having apparently made him a little sensitive to light.

Sitting up and shifting onto his knees, he reaches to pull the tent flap back and peer out at the campfire. A small gust of the cool morning air sweeps over his bare torso, raising goosebumps over the skin of his arms despite the fact that he’s not really bothered by the cold. That little spike of anxiety dulls when he finds you haven’t strayed far; standing maybe fifteen feet away in conversation with Karlach.

As if you can sense him, you glance over and light up when you spot him peeking out of the tent, excusing yourself from the tiefling. He expects you to come straight over, but instead, you turn to grab a basket he hadn’t seen first.

He shuffles back to let you come inside, flushing a bit when you brush a few rogue curls from his face and bend to peck his hairline, “Good morning, handsome.”

“I- Good morning.” Is all he manages, still tired and a little stunned. Shifting off of his knees to sit cross-legged, he peers into the basket as you set it down in front of him and cocks a brow, “What’s this?”

“Clothes.”

“Well yes, I can see that, darling.” He sasses and you chortle, “But why have you brought me a basket of clothes?”

“I found it the last time we left camp.” He remembers that. You’d gone out with Karlach, Gale and Lae’zel and came back bloodied and bruised. He’d been so focused on getting you patched up that he hadn’t even thought of asking about what you might have found.

You clear your throat and glance away, smiling sheepishly, “I picked out some things I thought you’d like, but then I thought you might prefer to have a look through yourself, so,” You shrug and jerk your nose at the basket, “I brought you all of it.”

His heart would be stuttering in his chest if it could. Reaching into the pile, he thumbs over a few of the garments, feeling the different fabrics and looking over all the different colours. It’s been centuries since he’s had a choice in what to wear. Sure, he’s picked up some things throughout your travels but never so much all at once. It’s a little overwhelming, having all this to pick through after so long.

Taking hold of the basket, he pushes it closer to you, “Show me what you picked out first.”

“Oh,” Your heart rate spikes, and he smiles as you stutter out, “Are- Are you sure? I’m not sure you’d actually like what I picked out. That’s one of the reasons I brought you the whole basket.”

He scoffs and waves off the thought, “Nonsense. You could hand me the most distasteful outfit in all of Faerûn and I’d at least try it on for you.”

“Really?” “Of course I would.” He realises the implications of what he’s just said and tries to play off the sentiment with a puckish grin, gesturing towards himself, “It’s hard to not look good in something when you’re this beautiful.”

You laugh, eyes squinting shut with the force of your smile. “Yes, you truly are dashing, my love.”

“Stating the obvious, but I can’t complain,” You roll your eyes at him as he taps the sides of the basket, “Now, are you going to show me what you picked out? Or are you just going to sit here sing my praises? Personally, I’d be fine either way.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get on with it,” Reaching into the clothes, your laughter tapers off as you glance back up at him timidly one last time, “But if you don’t like something, tell me, okay?”

He lays his palm flat against his sternum, all dramatics as he grins, “Cross my heart and hope to,” He pauses, before chuckling, “Well, die again, I suppose.”

He laughs when you shoot him a glare with no real malice behind it and tut disapprovingly.

He watches in quiet curiosity as you pull out a few items, explaining why you thought he’d like them as you go. Your reasons range from colours and patterns to embroidery and necklines, all of which are shockingly on par with his tastes. It appears you know him better than he thought you did.

“That’s about it, I think.” Your brows furrow in a way that is entirely too cute – especially for someone he’s watched eviscerate hoards of goblins – before you perk up with an excited gasp, “Oh! I almost forgot!”

Turning to look this way and that, you make a little sound of satisfaction when your gaze lands on your pack. Your shirt rides up a bit when you twist onto your knees to reach for it, and he stifles the urge to run his hand over the sliver skin it exposes. You rummage through a few pockets before finding what you’re looking for, returning to kneel in front of him with something hidden in your hand.

“Close your eyes.” You urge, and he does as you’ve asked.

“Ooh, saved the best for last, have you?” He grins, holding out his hands before you even ask.

You chuckle, sounding a little nervous, “Hopefully.”

He hears the tinkling of metal and nearly jumps when your hand makes contact with his, one cradling the backs of his while the other presses something small and rough into his palm.

“Open.” He can hear the smile in your voice as you say it.

On your command, he opens his eyes to find you’ve given him a necklace. The pendent is a little piece of a raw, orange crystal encircled by dainty gold rods that are bent to resemble branches.

“This is... beautiful.” He breathes, turning it over in his hand to admire the jagged edges, “What kind of crystal is it?”

“Sunstone.” He looks up at you then, finding a shy smile hung on your lips, “I know it’s a little on the nose but...,” You worry your bottom lip for a moment, clearly a little hesitant to continue, “I know you’re worried about... what’ll happen once the tadpoles are removed. So, I wanted to get you something just in case. It’s not the same thing, obviously, but I thought this way you can still figuratively have a little piece of the sun if,” Cutting yourself off, you glance away for a moment, “Well, if things don’t go the way we hope.”

He stares at you for a long moment, entirely unsure of what to say. He doesn’t think there’s anything he could say to convey just how much the gesture means to him.

Setting the necklace on his pillow, he draws you into his arms and weaves them tight around your waist. He pulls you to him so suddenly that your knees bump his shins, but you don’t seem to mind as you hook your arms around the back of his neck. His eyes burn as he murmurs against the side of your neck, “I love you.”

You card your fingers through his hair and he shudders, leaning further into you as you dot a few sweet kisses along the length of his shoulder.

“I love you too.” Your words are muddled as they’re mumbled into his skin, “More than you know.”

Maybe he didn’t before, but he thinks he has an idea now. You love him enough that you gave him his own little chunk of the sun. Even if things don’t pan out they way he hopes they will, he doesn’t think he’ll need the necklace – however pretty it may be.

He’s already got his bit of the sun wrapped up tight in his arms.

[acepalindrome]

I just want tons of fluff about the githyanki egg hatching and the party having to deal with sudden unexpected baby acquisition.

Karlach is immediately in love with this precious little nugget but she’s also terrified of somehow hurting them. The baby is so tiny! What if she cuddles them too hard? What if she drops them?! She also shares her teddy bear with the baby and makes it pretend to talk to them in a silly voice.

Lae’zel was never supposed to be a parent, just because of how gith society and reproduction works, but now she’s got a baby under her care, and she’s both very unsure of what to do and fiercely protective of them. She deals with the anxiety by staying busy. Go get firewood to keep baby warm. Go hunting to get food for baby. Pulverize food so it’s nice and soft for baby. Do tasks for baby!

Gale 100% talks to the baby like they’re an adult. He’s literally this guy. He’s also very invested in the baby’s education and loves to read to them. It’s good for their little minds to be read to! Also Gale’s reading is one of the most effective ways to get the baby to sleep.

Astarion complained about them taking the egg in the first place, and is very unsure about having a baby in their party, but, well….their tiny toes are rather cute. He’ll talk about how they should dump it at the first village they come across, but he softens up embarrassingly fast. He also goes through the party’s supply of old clothes and repurposes them to make baby clothes. Can’t let the little thing stay naked, can we?

Wyll loves kids, and he loves the baby. He’s a bit of a baby hog and loves to scoop them up and bounce them on his shoulder while telling stories about his adventures. He’s also really good at figuring out their different cries. He knows a hungry cry from a tired cry from a needing a diaper change cry.

Shadowheart was also not a huge fan initially of the gang caring for a baby, but if no one’s looking she’ll make faces at the baby to get them to smile. She’s so proud of herself when she manages to make them laugh.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Who would babytrap you out of the bg3 men 🙈

୨♡୧ Baby Trapping ୨♡୧

Halsin - Gale - Haarlep - Raphael - Gortash - Rolan

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: Yes. Absolutely Yes. I got you babes xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Breeding | Creampie | Baby Trapping

╰› Halsin’s obsession with you reached dangerous heights, fueled by a possessive jealousy that consumed his every thought. He knows the depths of his actions are morally wrong, but his desire for you overrides any rationality that remains within him. The way that other Druid looks at you, their eyes hungering for your body, it stirs an animalistic rage within Halsin.

Feigning urgency on important matters, deceiving both you and the unsuspecting Druid whom he pulled you away from, Halsin leads you deep into the forest, where his intentions come to fruition. Overwhelmed by his uncontrollable lust, he takes you forcefully, ravishing you until you're reduced to a quivering, moaning mess. The ecstasy of the moment blinds you as he spills his seed inside you without restraint, his desire to impregnate you driving him further.

Halsin wrestles with the weight of his actions, he knows it’s wrong to wish you pregnant like this, but the beast inside him demands otherwise. You, his chosen mate, his partner, you are his alone and he’ll make sure all the others know this.

╰› Haarlep is both possessive & greedy, always wanting more, especially if you’re Raphael’s little mouse. Haarlep’s not afraid to claim you as their toy if you’ve truly caught their attention. Through a combination of enchantment and manipulation the incubus ensnares you, captivating your senses and dominating your every thought. They exploit your deepest desires, using their irresistible allure to draw you deeper into their web of possession.

Your mind becomes foggy, a euphoric haze engulfing you, but it feels so damn good. The pleasure is intoxicating, so intense that the means by which it is achieved becomes inconsequential. All you crave is more. Haarlep's beautiful cock slides effortlessly into your eager depths, fitting you perfectly, as if it were the only thing that could ever satiate your desires. They make you yearn for their touch, their love, their vile seed. They use you as they please, taking what they desire from your body while painting your gummy walls white, leaving you begging, pleading for Haarlep to cum deep within Raphael’s precious little mouse, “P-please~ Cum n’inside Raphael’s s’little m-mouse!~”

By the time you come to your senses it’ll be too late. You’re nice and bloated with the creatures cum, they’ve claimed you, your body belongs to Haarlep now, and you will serve them well as the mother of their demon spawn.

╰› Raphael is filled with insecurities and has been his whole life but never dares show it. Not until you feel how how desperate his thrusts become, it’s almost pitiful. He’s so desperate to fill you with his offspring, it’s his way of proving to the infernal realms that he is the strongest, capable of producing the finest progeny to aid in his conquests and ruling.

Master manipulator, skilled at using his charm he'll make sure to bend your will to his desires, will purposely breakdown your defenses, prey upon your deepest fears and own insecurities, exploiting them to gain complete control over your body and soul.

“You need me,” is all he says, his eyes fixated on the way your tight cunt accommodates him with each forceful thrust. Each time he goes deeper and deeper causing you to whimper and clench his luxurious sheets… You can feel the bulge in your stomach each time the head of his shaft brushes against your cervix. It becomes evident that he places his ambitions and pleasure above all else, including your own needs and desires.

╰› Gortash deeply adores and values your presence, which is why he indulges in serving you drinks until you reach a delightful state of inebriation. Although you had expressed how you don’t wish to have another child, Gortash holds a different perspective on the matter. Not only has Bane compelled him to father more offspring, but Gortash himself yearns to create more beautiful children with you. And so, he will pursue that desire.

You hate how good it feels to have his cock filling you up, how euphoric and mind numbing it is. The alcohol in your system heightens the pleasure, it’s what has you creaming and cumming around Enver’s cock as he violates you, fucking you as if you wanted this. Gortash thrusts into you with a fervor that momentarily blurs the lines of consent, disregarding your wishes and capitalizing on the intoxication he facilitated.

"My dear, you are meant to grant me the joy of having the children I long for," he grunts. You attempt to shake your head, genuinely striving to communicate your objections, but the overwhelming pleasure drowns your attempts, leaving your mind awash in a sea of pleasure. He captures your lips in a possessive kiss, his desire evident in the intensity of his embrace, while his fingers dig into the softness of your thighs, marking you until you bleed. Finally, he releases a torrent of his cum deep within your fertile womb, leaving the possibility of new life to blossom within you.

╰› Rolan never really liked the idea of children, especially to sire his own. They were loud, smelly and a massive responsibility. However, once you came into his life that all began to change… Especially after your precious visit to Lorroakan’s tower… The way that man took hold of your hand and kissed the back of it as if he was paying homage to a queen or goddess made Rolan want to tear him apart limb from limb, his tail whipping back and forth.

That night something snapped within Rolan, the tiefling wanted nothing more than to make sure you were his, not that he feared of losing you or anything but it was as if his body needed to ensure that no other male could take you away. After all, who would want you if you were swollen with a “Hell spawn’s” child?

Rolan had never released himself inside you, so you were shocked when you felt a thick warm substance coating your insides as well as the his cock. You gasped at the feeling, looking back up at Rolan who was biting his lip, he didn't look at all fazed by this. No, instead he looked as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Rolan held your hips tightly as he pulled out of you, a small bit of his cum escaping and sliding down your inner thigh before thrusting back inside you. one load wasn’t enough, he needed to be sure…

╰› Gale is obsessed with creampies and breeding along with the idea of you carrying his children. He becomes consumed by the singular desire to impregnate you, their beloved. The images that flood his mind of you and him walking around Waterdeep, his hand on your swollen belly, it drives him insane.

He’d tell you there’s nothing to fear, that he won’t cum within you, instead he’ll decorate your perfect tummy with his cum… Only for him to lie and actually release his seed against your cervix. His grunts fill the room along with false apologies.

The kind of man to spike your drink so you sleep soundly as he fucks you nice and deep. It only takes a few mere moments until he's cumming deep inside you. Don't worry, he always does his best to clean you up so you aren't suspicious. The next morning he'd feign concern when you awake drowsy not feeling the best, a new cup of tea awaiting you in his hands.

[bloodlust-1]

A baby is on the way!

Tav is expecting a little one! This is how I’d imagine the companions to react during the pregnancy and birth

Reactions/head-canons!

Featuring:

Astarion

Gale

Halsin

Astarion

When Tav tells him she’s pregnant:

- “What? Is this some kind of joke cause it’s not funny, Tav! You can’t really be pregnant— I mean happy things don’t happen to me. Right..?”

Reality will kick in, he won’t admit he’s excited at first, but she can see the happiness in his eyes.

Belly is gettin’ bigger! :

- “My little sweet with her tummy all grown. I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight, if I say so myself.”

While she naps he loves talk to her stomach, saying random names until something sticks. He loves gender-neutral names.

Preparing for the baby:

-“How in the hells do you put this together!?” He fights against the bassinet. “Gods, please give me the patience to see this through.”

-“You know, our baby is going to be the cutest face to ever grace faerun! With parents that look like us, hah!”

He visits healers with her often, and even secretly confides in Gale for pregnancy books to learn more about a half-vampire baby.

The baby is coming:

-“Deep breaths my love.”

-“You’re doing so well, our baby is almost here.”

Astarion makes sure to bring all of his baby care he prepared. He never leaves her side, holds her hand, and occasionally yells at the healers to help her with the pain from the contractions.

The baby is born: It’s a girl!

- “She has your eyes. Thank you, for giving me something I can fall in love with all over again. I love you.”

He weeps in happiness and relief as the baby takes its first cry, he is the first to hold her.

He doesn’t allow anyone to see the baby until Tav gains her energy back. He stares at the baby and points out what features are his and what is Tav’s.

Gale

When Tav tells him she’s pregnant:

-“I-I…This is fantastic news! I’m going to be a father! We must celebrate at once.”

The first week of telling Gale he went to buy the most beautiful embroidered baby blanket, and occasionally showed up to the house with random baby items.

Already planning the baby shower.

Belly is gettin’ bigger! :

-“You have a glow to you, I’m happy you both are both healthy, my love. Let me cook you something for dinner.”

Gale loves to hug her belly from behind when they are in bed. He traces little hearts on her stomach.

Preparing for the baby:

- “Darling, I visited the library and look what I found!” He dumps a pile of books on the table. Its books about parenting, pregnancy, and babies-101. “Now we’ll be ready for any obstacle. I hope.”

They discus a birthing plan with each other. Gale really wants her to deliver the baby in Waterdeep, his home town where his family could visit them.

Gale won’t let her move a finger. You have to go up the stairs? Not without him. You need a glass of water? He’ll fetch it. He cooks all her favorite meals and weird cravings.

The nursery room they’ve built together is inspired by the stars. All the pretty star and moon decorations were placed in the nursery.

The baby is coming:

“There, there, it’ll all be better soon.”

“I can’t wait to see our baby.”

Gale brought the best healers he know to assist Tav. He rubs her lower back to try and comfort the contractions. He is extremely nervous— hands shaking and all!

The baby is born: It’s a boy!

“You did perfect— he’s perfect. I-I don’t even know what to say. We’re a family now, Tav…” <3

He tied back Tav’s hair in a bun and helped her shower after giving birth.

Gale watches Tav breast feed as he rubs the baby’s cheek and whispers the baby’s name to it. Promising him a good life.

Halsin

When Tav tells him she’s pregnant:

-“I knew there was something off with you, I’m just surprised this is why! You’ve already made me so happy, and now you’re giving me the biggest gift nature can bestow on me.”

She catches Halsin praying to his god, giving it thanks for the giving him a baby and family.

He starts to study babies more, even brining back natural remedies for Tav to use/eat for the baby’s health.

Belly is gettin’ bigger! :

-“At this rate you won’t be able to walk soon. Do you need your back rubbed again, my heart?”

Her belly is super big, almost too big for just 1 baby. Halsin barely leaves her side and took time away from being a leader to help Tav with her pregnancy.

He carves small wooden toys for the baby, especially ducks. He always shows Tav for validation to see if she likes them, of course she always does.

Preparing for the baby:

-“The baby will be here soon, I’ve alerted everyone in the grove to keep a watchful eye on you to make sure you don’t go too far from home. I want you to be safe.”

Halsin prepares a tub for Tav to give birth in the comfort of their own home. He collected many towels, aloe, and much other natural remedies to reduce her pain during labor.

He wants Tav to pick the baby’s name, he feels as if this is natures gift and that the mother should have free range to name the baby. He is happy with anything.

He orders midwives to make Tav eat soups, many that don’t taste great but are super packed with benefits for a healthy baby.

The baby is coming:

-“It hurts my heart to see you like this, but I promise we’ll get through this together.”

-“Keep pushing, my love, you are doing so well, don’t stop now.”

Tav never seen him so nervous. Her contractions were very frequent with little to no time between them. He gets extremely overwhelmed and starts to get snappy with the midwives to try and help Tav cope. He even tries healing magic on her as well to help.

Halsin holds her hand in both palms, he squeezes them whenever she groans in pain. He always uses loving words to try and comfort her.

The baby is born: It’s twins! Boy & Girl

-“Look, Tav! It’s our cubs, they’re beautiful. This is truly a blessing from nature, I am forever grateful for you for giving me a family. I promise to protect us all.”

He holds both babies in each arm, swaying them slowly and adoring their little faces. He orders all and any crowd away from the home for privacy between the couple. Halsin likes to call them his cubs. He gives Tav many kisses and thanks.

Halsin prepares a ceremony to introduce the babies to the Oak Father. They were wrapped in the finest silk blankets and all the grove attended, giving their prayers to welcome the children.

Many members of the grove gives the newly parents much gifts and food. Halsin has never been happier and is excited to teach his skills to his cubs.

Note: Halsin a twin daddy? 🥺 omg my heart, I could imagine him playing toys with them and teaching them how to go into wild shape. Little cubs running around the house. <3333

[multi-fandom-imagine]

«Fatherhood || Astarion ||

A/n: I’m doing it!

Tag list:

@shadow-pancake9 , @mirablake , @baizzhu

Prompts used:

“You have never been more beautiful to me than when you are heavy with my child.”

❝You’re glowing.❞

❝I think I’ve fallen more in love with you being pregnant.❞

“I will not leave your side, I promise.”

“I never thought babies were so…small.”

˃ ❝Look at how tiny her hands are!❞

“The word father suddenly has a nice ring to it.”

Honestly he should have expected it would happen and how it took so long for him to realize, well he couldn’t help but feel like an idiot. Did he is best trying to remember, trying to pinpoint when it happened.

He first thought you were sick from the amount of times you’d run off and thrown up, not to mention how much sweeter you blood was.

Which of course he stopped the moment you told him that you were expecting his child, he didn’t want to harm you or the little one.

Gale had his questions, but of course the man had his questions. He’s been acting like an older brother to you ever since you tugged his ass out of that damn portal.Astarion wished he would just go and fuck off somewhere, but of course not he just had to keep watch over you.

“Blundering oaf.”

“Did you say something Astarion?” You we’re doing your best to rest, you never thought a pregnancy could be this hard, this tedious.

Tensing, Astarion whipped his head around forcing a smile on his face. “I said, You have never been more beautiful to me than when you are heavy with my child.”

It wasn’t lie of course, you were rather radiant in his eyes but it’s not like he was about to admit his distaste in the man right now.

“You’re glowing.”Astarion cooed, stepping close to you as his fingers caressed your cheek.

Giving him a tired smile, you lent into his touch sighing softly. “You’re so sweet to me.”

“Of course I am darling, you mean the world to me….now get some rest. You are sleeping for two now.”

It did not take long for you to fall asleep, the rise and fall of your chest. Kneeling down in front of your sleeping form he gently grasped your hand in his own, his lips brushing the skin. “I think I’ve fallen more in love with you being pregnant.”

•

Astarion did his best not to flinch at your screams, the blood, your blood hitting his nose made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t help but blame himself and when he heard another scream tare from your lips as he felt you clutch his hand tightly, a small sob escaped your lips.

“I will not leave your side, I promise.” He pressed a small kiss to the side of your head as he did his best to ignore instructions from the woman telling you too push.

You weren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on labour but it took one last push to hear the tiny cry of your child. Shadowheart smiling at your both as she cleaned off the baby, placing the newborn in your arms as you lent into Astarion’s chest.

Astarion titled his head to the side, he didn’t even that he had tears streaming down his face. His finger reaching out to caress the newborns cheek. She was so small, he already loved her.

“I never thought babies were so…small.” He whispered, his eyes glued to the little bundle in your arms as a small laughed escaped your lips.

Astarion let out a laugh as her tiny little hand wrapped around his finger. “Look at how tiny her hands are!”

Clearing out his throat, Astarion glanced away when he felt your gaze on him. “What?”

“Nothing, I just think it’s cute, you’re going to be such a good father.” You let out a yawn cradling the newborn to your chest, her little hand still grasping Astarion’s finger.

His gaze softened for a moment as he gently took the baby from your arms so you could sleep.

“The word father suddenly has a nice ring to it.”

[senualothbrok]

Mortal pleasures

Summary: Gale has shown you how gods bond in the astral. Now, you show him how good mortal pleasures can be.

Word count: 2.1k

AO3 link

Disclaimers: NSFW. 18+. Smut. Gale x female Tav/reader.

More disclaimers: Oral sex (blow job). Vaginal fingering.

A/N: This fic is long overdue, because I am a Gale-deserves-a-blow-job truther. Dedicated to @practicallydeadinside-blog who I love more than words can describe!

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

“And that’s how I got this baby.” Karlach smacks the scar on her right thigh with a grin. 

You nod absently. You can barely make out the jests that roar around your companions, their faces illuminated only by the campfire you huddle around on this spring night. Your focus is on him alone.

Gale’s gaze is sharp and hot, his lips curled in a sideways smile. He tilts his head ever so slightly. You do not move your eyes from him. It does not escape you, the dart of his tongue through the briefest parting of his mouth. You bite your lip.

Astarion coughs, slapping his knees as he rises. “And with that revolting tale, I think it’s time for us all to clear off.” 

“What?” Karlach whines. “Already? Boooo…”

“Take a hint, darling,” Astarion drawls. “I’ve had enough of whatever this is.” He makes a gesture of distaste towards you and Gale. 

You flush. Astarion chortles.

“Enjoy the magic, but please keep it down. We know how…verbose…the two of you can be.” 

You shrink at the winks, grumbles and jostling of the rest of your companions as they file away to their respective tents. It was wishful thinking to hope they were not aware of your time with Gale the night before, when your souls bonded in the astral. To think that they could not see how both of you had been transformed by the experience.

There is a chill in the air, but your core flames. There is no embarrassment in Gale’s eyes. Only the raw heat of desire.

“Alone at last,” he breathes.

Tonight, he is unusually quiet. He lets his actions speak. You barely make it to his tent. He wraps his arms around you from behind, unlacing the straps of your bodice with uncanny speed. Your struggle for breath as his deft fingers clutch at your breasts, your shoulders, your hips. You have been waiting all day for this moment. To be with him, to have him all to yourself. To give yourself to him again. 

You grind backwards against his thrumming body, aching for more of his touch. He clasps your chin to angle your neck back, as if he is starving to see your face. Your tongues glide against each other, frantic with hunger, a frenzy of moans. He tastes sweet and strong, like aged wine, and you cannot get enough. You can never have enough of him. 

“I didn’t lie,” you whisper when you break apart to breathe. “You’re a good kisser.”

He smiles against your lips before he plunges back in, lapping eagerly at your wet warmth. You are drunk from his musk, the sourness of sweat, the smoothness of sandalwood. You are not careful as you whip open his robe, shoving his sleeves down his arms, pushing them desperately down. You need to see him. You need to feel and smell and taste every inch of his quivering flesh. 

He lets out a little laugh, surprised, not displeased. Then, with one swift motion, he wrenches your breeches off your quaking legs. You gasp at the force of it, the smouldering in his eyes. His fingers dive behind your panties, already damp with desire. He almost rips them off.

“I want to show you more,” he pants. “Everything you could possibly imagine. Let me show you.”

A crackle of blue thread sizzles between his fingers. A spasm of bliss tears through you like lightning, sending you gasping for breath. You burn for more of it. But you steel yourself. 

Since your night together, you have not been able to get the idea out of your mind. You have been ravenous for it. And now is your chance.

You pull back.  

“No.”

Gale falters, the blue light of his magic fading into the purple of his glowing chest. You press against him again, licking at his bottom lip, gently sucking it into your mouth. He buckles against you.

“No?” 

You smile, teasing but resolute. 

“Yesterday, you showed me how to bond the way gods do.”

Your hand trails down his abdomen, following the hairs that meander from his navel to his groin. His breath hitches. He hangs on your every word, your every move. You are not a wizard or a sorcerer, but he is under your spell.

“Today, I want to show you how good mortal pleasures can be.”

His eyes flash. Before he can object, you push him downwards and back, so that he is reclined on his bed roll. Uncertainty blinks across his features as you pull his briefs down to expose the thrust of his cock. You clench your thighs as a string of moisture trickles from your folds.

He stares at you on your knees by his side. You lean forward, taking hold of his shaft, so thick and long in your small hands. Dark pink and purpling, veins drifting down to a wiry nest framed by the muscles of his lean thighs. You wet your lips. His cock pulses in your fingers, a bead spilling from its tip as he exhales sharply.  

“Gods,” he heaves.

You bend over. You are acutely aware of the way his body is suspended in the anticipation of pleasure. You can feel it vibrate, chasing after your touch. The tent is awash in his purple flame. You flare with yearning as you flick your tongue into his slit, gathering this first trace of his salty sweetness. He arches his back and groans.

“Has anyone ever done this to you?” 

Your tongue traces a slow, winding stripe down the underside of his cock. He trembles. You look up at him, mouth open, eyes wide and expectant.

He swallows. “A long time ago. Once, when I was very young. It was…quick. Clumsy. Messy.”

You suspected this might be the case. There was no way Mystra would have ever lowered herself to give Gale such a human gift, and you cannot imagine Gale asking any lover for such raw, unbridled ecstasy.  It makes you even more desperate. You want nothing more than to give this to him now.

“We’ll rectify that.”

You drag your tongue in a smooth circle at the base of his cock. He stifles a whine as his hips roll closer to your mouth. Gale’s longing is so palpable that it throbs wet and hot within you. But when you look up, he is frowning. He reaches towards you. 

“My love,” he huffs. “You really don’t need to-”

You anticipated this. Gale prides himself on giving, not receiving. He never asks, for fear of being turned away. He cannot fathom that anyone would get on their knees to show him their adoration. That anyone would ache to give him this most mortal of pleasures.

“I want to, Gale.” 

You take his straying hand and run your mouth over his palm. His eyelids flutter as your tongue flickers softly over the pads of his fingers. 

“I want to taste you. I want to show you how good this feels. Please let me show you.”

It is not completely selfless. You have been dreaming of doing this to Gale since you shared a moment in the Weave. You enjoy this act much more than he knows. He will find out just how much you enjoy it.

He grasps for a response and fails. For an instant, you savour the sight of Gale rendered speechless by your designs. Then you resume your position, your face tilted upwards beside his growing hardness. You can see him unravelling at the sight of it resting against your cheek, hovering beside the shining plumpness of your lips. His brown eyes are almost black, dilated in a stupor of need. 

“Or does this not feel good?”

He lets out a guttural moan as you slide his cock into your mouth. Your lips tighten around his girth as you roll your tongue around its head. You pump forward and backwards, once, twice, three times. With each stroke, waves of molten heat blaze through your centre, your clit swelling against your folds as you rock. Moisture trails down your chin as you draw back and look up at him.

“Do you like that?” 

The sound that escapes his lips is a muffled plea. His face is flushed, helpless, urgent. 

You grin. His back bows as you take him back inside you. You take your time, drawing out his pressure points, feeling for the rhythm of his pleasure. The slick sounds of you lapping and sucking at his cock fill the tent as you drive his length deeper and faster into you. Something about these wet, gulping noises makes you suddenly, overwhelmingly voracious.

“By the gods…”

You cannot decipher all the words that start tumbling from Gale now. You glide hungrily down to the hilt of his cock, thrusting it against the back of your mouth. Small bursts of his pleasure trickle down your throat like nectar as he shifts and sighs. Every blast of his yearning pools like lava in your belly. You whimper into his shaft, your hips grinding down into the bedroll, searching frantically for release.

As the storm surges within you, you realise that his groans are growing louder and closer together. You can feel him hardening, stretching your jaw with each tremor of your arousal. He fills you up so completely, there is almost no space for breath. You are famished, gorging yourself on him. 

You are abruptly aware of urgent fingers pressing between your thighs, demanding entrance. You sit up, turning to face him.

“Allow me,” he rasps.

You shake your head, trying to push his hand away. He does not budge.

“Please. Can you not tell what your pleasure does to me?” His gaze is ravenous. “Let me. Please.”

It was not your intention to allow it. You were to give and not receive. But you are powerless to resist as his fingers nestle into your gleaming folds. When he finds your throbbing clit, you crumple against him. His groin rises to meet you, his cock twitching at your undoing. You suck him back into your mouth with a needy cry.

You do not need a tadpole to know each other’s feelings now. You can taste the hardness of his desire, as he can feel the wetness of yours.

You shudder against each other as the world becomes a chaos of purple spasms. All you know is the whirling of your tongue around the head of his cock as he traces frenzied circles around the centre of your fire. A hot stream of slick melts between your thighs as he bucks against you. You can no longer distinguish between his moans and yours.

As his fingers flutter in their maddening dance, your mouth quickens to match his speed. You are aware of his muscles tightening as you grind against his hand, rubbing at every coiled nerve until it is ready to snap. Your whines are muffled vibrations against his skin. He lurches and keens as you lap and slide up and down his shaft with increasing fury, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Then the ache within you explodes. 

The world shatters into blinding shockwaves of white heat. It is all you can do to keep your mouth wrapped tightly around his swelling cock, your only anchor as you drown in the searing surges of your pleasure. As you writhe through the aftershocks, you feel a convulsion down his chest, snapping through his hips, jolting at the back of your throat. 

He shouts out a strangled sound, his toes curling, his free hand clinging to the side of the bedroll. You quiver as the taste of Gale fills your mouth. You swallow each rush of his delight as he rides out the peak of his climax, his features twisting in the beautiful anguish of release.

You remain in that position as your breathing returns to normal. Slowly, your vision clears. His cock is still half hard and glistening as you part from it. You brush away drops of his spend from your lips and chin as you sit up, steadying yourself. 

He looks up at you from where he lies panting, his tousled waves a tumble around his head. His face is radiant with passion. His chiselled abdomen heaves with the exhaustion of bliss. The mark on his chest glows a muted violet.

“That was…”

He has no words for the experience. His gaze is bright with awe, gratitude, adoration. Swollen with love. It glints with desire, still pure and unquenched.  

You beam. “That’s how mortals do it.” 

He pulls you into his arms with a throaty laugh.

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

Liked this fic? Check out my other work.

[fuzybby]

Jealousy

Gale x F! Reader

Synopsis: Gale's jealousy gets the better of him, for lack of better words.

CW: possessive language. creampie and talk of creampie. rough sex. mage hand.

It was a harmless compliment.

A nice, “You look ravishing today” thrown towards the cold blooded vampire that set your love's jealousy aflame.

So now, here you are, trapped underneath Gale as your hands are held high above your head with a mage hand, sinking further into the lush bed as he ruts into you like an animal.

He had put his hair up in a half bun, only the small pieces of hair right at the bottom spilled out from behind his shoulders, cascading down towards you. You watched as a single bead of sweat trickled down his neck, wishing that you could lick it and taste him.

Turning his head up to the ceiling, his eyes scrunched shut and his mouth came open in a silent moan. You watched his Adam's apple bob and wished you could move even just slightly so you could drag your teeth against it.

But with his hands holding your waist down, and the mage hand on your own hands, you were secured to the bed. The hot bed with slick sheets. You try to arch your back to get it to cool down, the bed underneath you only providing more heat than you can handle.

“Gale,” You sighed, your voice high pitched as a certain thrust left you breathless.

“Hm?” He answered, tilting his head back down to watch your expression.

Your face continued to twist into pleasure as you tried to find the words you were looking for. “It’s hot.” Was all you could come up with.

Gale smirked, slowing down his pace slightly. “I know I am, baby.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, one that was quickly replaced by a whine. “No, no no, the bed, the bed is hot.”

Gale hummed, almost too quiet for you to hear. He took his cock out of you slowly before flipping you over, bringing your hips up so only your chest and head were on the bed. “Better?” He asked sincerely.

You nodded your head, holding onto the sheets above your head as your body got used to this new position, your back was now finally hit with some cool air.

You whine, feeling your lover re enter you from behind. He doesn't start slow, he continues the fast pace he was at originally.

“Slow down,” You huff, wanting to move your arms and grab at him. Wishing to touch your handsome wizard. He's never been this rough with you before, always wanting to keep it slow and sensual.

“Don't tell me what to do.” He responds sternly, grabbing a fistfull of your hair to hold. “I am doing this because you are mine, you belong to me and me only.”

“Yours.” You whisper, splitting into a fucked out grin as you are reminded that you are his, and he is yours.

Gale groans from behind you, letting go of your hair to hold back onto your waist. “I am the only one who shall fill your heart, and fill your pretty cunt with cum.”

His thrusts are merciless, and you can feel his balls smack against your clit every time he pushes back in. Concentrating hard enough, your thighs begin to shake as an orgasm starts to climb its way through you.

“I'm gonna cum,” You moan, gripping the sheets tightly as your whole body tenses. Your orgasm rips through you, coursing your veins as you scream into the sheets below you. Your body writhes and shakes, your toes curl as pleasure takes over your entire being.

Your wizard groans, clearly happy with the show you've put on for him.

“Should I cum inside you my dear? Have you earned it?” He taunts, digging his nails into your flesh.

“Yes! Yes please! I'm yours and only yours!” You cry, throwing your hips back to meet his never ending thrusts. Overstimulation keeps your body tense.

Gale smirks, and gives your ass a small and gentle pat, “Good girl.” He says.

Letting out his own moans of pleasure, his own orgasm approaches quickly. Emptying his thick load inside of you as he doubles over, biting your shoulder to try and muffle some of his own noises.

Finally coming to, he lets go. Letting you fall limp to the bed as his soft cock falls out of you.

Gale chuckles, “Sorry.” He sighs. His eyes lingering on all of the lovebites he has given you.

“That was probably the best orgasm I've ever had.” You laugh, closing your eyes with a smile.

“Glad to be of service.” The wizard smiles.

[littlejuicebox]

GINAAA MY GIRL!

Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.

How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.

To have and to hold.

Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!

Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.

A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.

Word count: 2.3K

-----

“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.

It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.

He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.

It’s horrible.

How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?

Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.

You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.

“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.

“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.

He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.

“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.

You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.

“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.

The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”

“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”

“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“

Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.

“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”

“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.

“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”

“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.

The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.

*

The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.

The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.

Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.

“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”

You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”

Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”

“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.

Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.

Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.

Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.

“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.

“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.

He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”

*

Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.

When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.

“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.

You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.

*

When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.

“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.

“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.

Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.

Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.

“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”

“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”

You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.

*

Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.

“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.

“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”

“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.

“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.

Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?

He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.

“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“

“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.

He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.

When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“

You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.

“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”

Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.

When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.

You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.

*

Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”

“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.

“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.

“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.

“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”

And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.

Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.

[corpsebasil]

Karma Part 3

Ghostface is her protector, but maybe more than that.

Your relationship had grown from tentative friendship leading into more, to full blown dating.

You’d never had so much fun as you did with Ethan. He liked to buy you flowers ‘just because’ which never failed to make you smile. When doing homework together he’d reach over and draw a tiny heart in your notebook, then pretend he didn’t know he’d done it. He was a terrible cook but, to your delight, he’d taken up baking rather quickly, and fumbled through the kitchen with you as you taught him the basics.

Just a few days ago you both had gotten drunk and played Just Dance. Rasputin was his go to and lord the man could move. You’d almost fell backwards onto the ground when you’d attempted the squat jump movement he easily copied, and you’d both laughed, collapsing onto the floor in a pile of giggles.

But then there were the more intimate moments.

The moments when he’d prop his head on your shoulder when you were with your friends, or when he’d hold your hand, almost constantly. And the kissing… You’d never gone farther than just that, although you wanted to. But you happily settled for the nights when he’d kiss you until you thought you’d pass out, the whispers between the two of you lost in the dark.

And the first time he told you he loved you, kissing you slowly on the couch, you felt so filled to the brim with emotion you almost embarrassed yourself by crying. You only ran your hands through his hair, murmuring the words back, and allowed him to run a hand up the bare skin of your thigh.

But then Ghostface called you.

You were in your room, playing Solitaire on your laptop, when your phone buzzed.

“Babe? That you?”

“It can be, if that’s what you want.” Ghostface teased, and you couldn’t help the slight smirk that pulled at your mouth.

“Very funny.” You told him, standing up to examine your apartment. “But I’m happily taken. If you’re here, though, maybe you can give me some knife lessons. I’d like to know how to defend myself.”

“As much fun as that would be,” the killer said, his tone amused. “I’m not there. But you need to listen to me.”

You paused, clutching the phone a bit tighter.

“What is it, Ghostie?”

“It’s—” you heard a male laugh and grinned. You didn’t want to admit it—would never admit it to anyone—but you’d found yourself waiting for him to come back. His jokes, his protectiveness…you could use that in a friend. Not that you would tell anyone that you found a serial killer worthy of friendship. “Ghostie? Really?”

You laughed and could almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“Sure, laugh away, pretty girl. I’m sure you’ll find it hilarious when I’m the one that has to save your ass once again.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled, ignoring the blush that rose on your face at his words. You had a boyfriend damnit. “So what do you want? I’m assuming this isn’t a pleasure call.”

“Gale Weathers is going to be carved up in about twenty minutes, by my guess.” He deadpanned, and you stilled. “My…cohort, if you will, is on their way. If you want to help her, like you’ve said you do, then go. I’ll meet you there.”

“Why would you help me?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve gone out of your way to save me multiple times now. Why?”

“Let’s call it an investment.” He said, and you bristled a bit. “Take it as a compliment, baby. I’m not letting you go just yet.”

“Oh please.” You scoffed, but your mind was racing back to Gale as you grabbed your purse and slid your shoes on. “I’m headed there. No fucking jump scares or I might hit you. My boyfriend’s been teaching me a bit of self defense.”

Your feet were loud on the stairs as you rushed out of the complex, headed to your car. You barely used the thing as you preferred walking, but today was an emergency.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Ghostface asked, his tone practically seductive as you drove out of the parking lot towards Gale’s place. “Ethan, is it?”

“Yes.” You purred. “How’d you know?”

“Tall, incredibly good looking? How could I not?”

You paused.

Your thoughts seemed to glitch at that response, your reply a bit too long for comfort. What in the—

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. I’m on my way I’ll—I’ll see you there.”

“Y/N, wait—”

You hung up, your breathing uneven as you glanced down momentarily at the blocked caller ID. The gears were turning in your brain, slowly, as you tried to think. There was something nagging you, something not right about Ghostface. Something familiar.

You blinked, shoving away any insane thoughts, and screeched into Gale’s parking lot minutes later.

-

You were terrified.

You’d never been so scared for your life, not when you’d been with Gale, urging the reporter to leave and call police. Not when Ghostface had thrown Gale’s boyfriend, dead, to the floor. You backed away, rushing to hide, but there was nowhere to go.

Gale was fighting—Gale was the main target here, not you. And the worst part was, you knew in your gut that this wasn’t your Ghostface. This person would gladly kill you, and would have no remorse.

You were paralyzed. Paralyzed as Gale stormed back into the living-room with a gun, her phone to her ear. You stared with wide eyes as she motioned for you to duck down behind the kitchen island, hiding yourself from sight. You felt your chest growing tight. It was just like before—just like before when you’d been cornered with nowhere else to go.

Gale hung up, putting the Ghostface on hold, of all things, and after a few seconds of tense silence you heard a phone ring. You covered your ears with your hands as shots fired, and then Gale was screaming, and you were shaking so bad you thought you might puke.

You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t want to be a coward, not now, not ever, so you stood, picking up a ceramic dinner plate and hurling it at Ghostface’s head. It slammed into them just before it could stab Gale again, and you threw another, then another. The last one missed and you ran, screaming as the Ghostface—god they were fast—chased you down.

You ran, but not fast enough, not when they slashed out at you and tore a gash through your arm. You shrieked, stumbling, and knocked a chair in their path as you searched for anywhere to hide.

And then there was only you, and the corner of the room, and no where to go.

“I’m going to enjoy this, bitch.” Ghostface snarled, flipping their knife in their hand.

You threw your hands up, as if that would stop it, when a loud cracking sound filled the space as the locked door banged open.

You knew who it was—could feel it in your gut as you saw him sprint for the person holding a knife towards you.

Ethan was Ghostface.

He was Ghostface. The one who’d been saving you this entire time. You’d wondered, absentmindedly, but knew for sure, right then, when he’d launched himself in front of the second Ghostface, tearing across the room to tackle whoever was behind the other mask.

You screamed as you cowered in the corner, watching as he and the other Ghostface rolled on the floor, he attempting to restrain them, them fighting back. They were yelling at each other, so loud you could barely make out what they were saying. But then the other Ghostface shoved him off and ran, sprinting out the door as fast as they could.

Ethan turned to you, breathing hard, the white of his mask catching the light. You moved forward, only a step; he was Ghostface. A killer. But you loved him. You loved him.

You stepped forward as your mouth wobbled, tears falling down your face as you moved to him. He was trembling, breathing hard, as you pulled his mask off and looked at him. His expression was one of agony and sorrow, shaking his head slowly at you as if to convey words he didn’t have.

He didn’t need to.

You kissed him, tugging him down to you by the black robes you’d grown used to, had grown to trust, and he let out a low, anguished noise into your mouth. Ethan was crying when you pulled away, his head dropping to your shoulder as he he clutched you to him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, squeezing you tighter when you looped your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry baby, I wanted to tell you.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” You swallowed roughly, the pain in your arm momentarily forgotten at the moment. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

“I tried to protect you. I wanted you safe I never should’ve asked you to come here—”

“Ethan, look at me.” He did, pulling his head back, and you grasped his face in your hands, resting your forehead against his own. “I love you, E. I trust you, okay? We’re gonna find a way to get you out of this—”

“Still bleeding over here.” Gale called out to you both, and you turned. You were surprised she’d survived. “As creepily touching as this is.”

“Ethan, call an ambulance.” You told him, pressing one last kiss to his mouth before whispering, “and get the Hell out of here. Fast.”

He nodded and bolted, already pulling out his phone, as you dropped beside Gale and helped put pressure on her wound.

-

The second you were cleared by the medics, a gauzy bandage wrapped around your arm, you got to your apartment as fast as you physically could. Ethan was already there, putting clothes and other objects of yours into a suitcase. You gaped at him and shut the front door, locking it behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here.” He said, still focused on his work.

“Ethan what—what are you talking about?”

“The theater,” he looked up at you, eyes slightly crazed. “It’s a trap.” He gestured to the bag. “We’ll get you on a bus or a plane or something.”

“Ethan I am not leaving you.”

“Shit, Y/N.” He cursed, standing up and crossing the room. He placed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then pulled back. “Please let me get you out. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

“And I’d rather die than see something happen to you.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, his brow furrowed as he sighed, holding you close. He ran a hand over your hair and pressed his lips your temple, and you could feel Ethan’s heart racing through the shirt he now wore.

“At least..at least put some things in my backpack. Just in case.” You could hear his uneven breathing and you slid your hands to his neck, holding him tighter. Then his chest heaved, and you felt a drop of wetness against your face. “I cant watch you die.”

“I’m not going to die. We’re both going to be fine.” You promised, and kissed him. “Ghostie.”

He held you tight as a half-hearted laugh left him, holding you so close you could feel almost every inch of him. And then he was lifting you, carrying you to your room, where he laid with you on the bed, kissing you and running his hands over your skin.

“I love you.” He murmured, lips soft on your own, and you held him tight, desperate to have him here with you for the little time you had left.

stg there’s only ONE PART LEFT BE PATIENT AND MAKE SURE TO REBLOG FOLLOW AND COMMENT for PART FOURRRR

tag list:

@pagesfalling @taetae123094 @iloveneilperry @hopefulcandywitch

@bokutoswifey