#spawn!astarion

[tiannasfanfic]

Not the Wavemother

Astarion x Reader (Fluff)

| Astarion Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: Astarion notices your discomfort while you’re trying on your new clothing.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral Reader/Tav, they/them pronouns (if any). Spawn!Astarion x Reader/Tav. No class or race for Reader is mentioned in story. No physical description of Reader either, just a general description of how the dress fits. Mild hurt/comfort for Reader with fluffy ending.

CW: Uncomfortable clothes; uncomfortable attention from said clothes; mild innuendo at the end.

Word Count: 9,87

It had taken some convincing, but after a little bit of badgering, everyone finally talked you into trying on the outfit the Wavemother had given you.

You had been very hesitant, took your time changing and only came out after some encouragement from Karlach and Shadowheart.

Everyone fell silent though when you stepped out of your tent.

You looked breathtaking.

The dress was cut within an inch of your life, the fabric hugging close to your body like a second skin. The stooped neckline was exceptionally low, sitting just below your navel, while the slits up both sides of the skirt came just below your hips, showing a considerable amount of skin.

Had Astarion’s heart still beat, he was quite sure it would’ve stopped right then.

Even though he had seen you fully naked, he couldn’t help but stare as you slowly twirled around, letting everyone see the dress on you from all angles. A warm, tingling feeling spread through his abdomen and his stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. It unsettled him at first until he realized what it was.

Desire.

It wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to yet. While it wasn’t entirely unwelcome with you, it still felt odd to want someone in a physical manner. Before you, he couldn’t remember the last time he was with someone to fulfill his own needs, much less with someone he desired.

But after staring at you for a while, he noticed something was off.

You weren’t holding yourself like you normally would. While you were standing tall and proud, your shoulders were stiff, your posture just slightly hunched. You took everyone’s compliments and comments graciously, a polite smile on your face that was devoid of most emotion.

Suddenly, it dawned on him what it was he was seeing and the warm tingle in his stomach was replaced with a cold knot.

You were severely uncomfortable.

While you were no stranger to tight clothing and even occasionally showed some skin around camp on the warm nights, your normal choices didn’t garner much, if any, attention. Now everyone was looking at you appraisingly and showering you with praise, even Mizora.

And, with each compliment, your expression withdrew a little bit more.

By the time you turned to Astarion, your face was still a polite mask, but the glint you normally had in your eyes wasn’t there.

“You’re bring quiet, Astarion,” you stated, your voice politely neutral. “What do you think?”

It took him one second to decide how best to proceed.

He took a step back and took a long look at you, but it was a thoughtful gaze, as if you were a complicated trap he was about to disarm rather than someone intensely attractive to him.

“Honestly, it doesn’t look very functional to me,” he finally stated, a critical tone to his voice as he pried his gaze up from the dress to your eyes. “It is very cute, but one arrow and you’re done for, darling.”

Astarion’s words had an immediate effect. The stiffness in your posture eased some and your face slightly relaxed.

“Ah, c’mon, Astarion! That’s all you’re going to say?” Karlach said, then she clapped you on the back. “Tav is smokin’ hot right now!”

There was a slight wrinkle in your forehead, so slight anyone would’ve missed it had they not been paying close attention.

Fortunately for Astarion, he was, and already knew how to proceed.

“They are very hot, yes, but I’d much prefer them alive,” he stated, then met your gaze again. “Now, darling, why don’t you go get yourself changed before you catch a cold.”

Everyone booed at him as you hurried back into your tent, Halsin even called him a party pooper, but he didn’t care. He had caught a glimpse of the relief on your face just before you turned to go and that was all that mattered to him.

After changing back into your camp clothes, you were back to your normal self, rejoining everyone at the campfire in a pleasant mood. You took your normal place next to Astarion and slipped his arm around your back. You leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder.

Now that the dress was put away, everyone seemed to forget about it and began settling into their nightly routines, leaving you two to watch the fire.

You both were quiet for a while, just watching the flames and enjoying each other’s company, but after a few minutes, you broke the silence.

“I just realized something,” you said.

“Hmm?” he hummed. “And what would that be, darling?”

“You never said what you thought of the dress,” you said, then tilted your head to look up at him. “And you were staring pretty hard, too.”

Astarion looked down at you and carefully studied your expression, looking for any signs of discomfort about the topic. When he didn’t see any on your face, only a little bit of anticipation at his response, he knew you were okay with him speaking freely.

“You looked absolutely stunning, my love,” he said, softly kissing you on the forehead before dropping his voice to a soft murmur only you could hear. “In fact, one day when we have more private accommodations, I certainly wouldn’t mind if you ever wanted to wear it again just for me.”

You blinked up at him in surprise, your cheeks heating up in a blush at his implication. While you were far from a blushing virgin, it wasn’t hard for him to make you a bit flustered.

“Oh really?” you said, then smiled playfully up at him after he nodded. “In that case, I could possibly be persuaded to wear it again.”

He smiled gleefully and kissed you on the forehead again, which elicited a soft giggle from you, before resting his cheek on the top of your head as he returned his gaze back to the fire.

[faerievampling]

Miracle

Summary: Years after the defeat of the Netherbrain, Astarion and Tav discover they are pregnant.

link to ao3!

Part 2

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x Female Tav/Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: 18+. Mention of breeding. breast milk. pregnancy. Astarion being very horny for all these things. body worship. angst. changes in POV focus. brief mention of abortion.

A/N: I'm totally going to write more about these two. I need a pregnant adventuring Tav and protective Astarion.

You had been cleaning off your armor after a long day of running errands for Jaheira and the Harper’s when you notice Astarion’s eyes on you.

You could feel his stare, and as you turn to meet it, the look on his face is peculiar, somewhere between shock and amusement. 

“Darling?” You ask, stopping your task to fully soak in his expression. “Astarion -“

“It’s nothing, my love, nothing,” His voice is dismissive, waving his hand as he tries to push beyond whatever he has been thinking. 

You notice his ruby eyes don’t leave yours for the rest of the evening. You can’t help but feel as though your vampire is avoiding you. 

But you decide to give him his space: this was often the remedy for Astarion’s mood swings. 

***

Astarion couldn’t figure it out. 

You had rarely left his side for the past few years. When would you have had the time to steal away with another man? 

Astarion wondered who he was, what he looked like. 

He curses. Why hadn’t he ever picked up the scent of this mystery man? His smell would have been all over your body.

And Astarion knew his nose was working just fine: your change in smell had been the very first thing he picked up on. Astarion certainly thought it strange, but he chalked it up to a weird diet. The two of you had been running through the wastes of Rashemen, and you had eaten a questionable animal that one night. 

No, it wasn’t that, Astarion was certain. That little flutter of a quickening he had heard earlier couldn’t be denied. Even though you were just on the other side of the wall, Astarion could hear the gentle thrum of two heartbeats. 

He sighs, running his hands through his curls. He’s certain that you don’t know. You weren’t good at hiding things, and you rarely attempted to lie anyways because you are such a sweetheart that it didn’t make any sense at all for you to have bed with another man and cause Astarion pain like this.

Astarion knows he just needs to talk to you, but for the unlife of him, can't figure out where to even remotely begin. Pregnancy and childbirth was…he didn’t even want to think about it.

A child? He can’t even really fathom having one around.

Astarion sits up, having found the resolve to finally confront you, and finds you on the porch of Jaheria’s estate, your eyes mindlessly scanning the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion takes your image before interrupting whatever thought you were having: you were a vision, a rare beauty that Astarion was so lucky to find. 

He swears his heart flutters for you sometimes. “Do you like being back in the city?”

You nearly jump, startled by the question. 

“Sorry, darling,” Astarion murmurs in apology.

You smile, laughing a bit as you collect yourself. “I do. It’s nice to see it all back together. The rebuilding efforts took longer than expected,” 

Astarion fears you’re going to keep talking about the mundane when all he can focus on is the beat of that little heart and how round and plump your breasts look beneath that blouse.

Astarion swears you’ve never filled out before; not like that.

“You’re staring again,” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. Astarion can see the worry in your face. “Just tell me, Astarion.”

Astarion swallows. “Well,” Astarion stumbles, rolling his eyes at himself as he tries to find his words. This hurt more than he thought it would. “You’re with child, Tav.”

***

You’re speechless. 

“I’d rather like to know who the father is.” Astarion’s eyes are round, wet, tears already lining them. He blinks them back quickly, trying to compose himself. He almost seemed surprised by his sudden lack of control of his handsome face.

“What?” You ask incredulously. 

“I’ve been trying to imagine him, to think about when you could have…” He stops himself, swallowing his upset before continuing to ramble: he keeps talking, stumbling while you’re still processing what he just said.

You interrupt him.“You’re saying that I’m pregnant?” 

“Yes.”

You’re silent for a while. You can feel Astarion’s nerves fraying at the seams, his emotions emanating through him, producing an aura that has encompassed you both. It made time feel slow.

“How do you know?” You ask a bit stupidly. You hardly had missed your monthly bleeding, only being a few days off, which was very normal for you.

“I can hear it. The heartbeat.” His voice is low, guarded. There is a thick moment of silence.

“Surely not,” You almost laugh. But Astarion’s face is still, eyes round and wide as he studies you. He looks devastated, and it makes your stomach drop.

You realize he’s being serious, asking you in earnest if you had been with another. You think you should say something. 

“You’ve been my only lover since the clearing, Astarion.” You want to reach out to him, but you think not. If Astarion had hackles, they would surely be raised. 

“So you’re going to chalk this up to some immaculate conception?” Astarion spats cruelly, his agitation getting the better of him as he flails his hands. “Instead of just telling me the truth?” 

You’re speechless again. You knew he wouldn’t lie about this, so you desperately try to accept the fact that you’re pregnant with Astarion’s child as he, the very man who has bred you, yells at you.

“Close your mouth, darling, you aren’t a fly trap.” Astarion quips, crossing his arms. 

The anger is rising inside you, his offense reaching a boiling point. Your fists clench, your eyes narrowing as you try to reason with him.

“Four weeks ago, we were in the Rashemen wilderness with only Minsc and Boo as our company,” Is all you can say. 

Astarion’s expression is locked in between confusion and betrayal. “Minsc has his charms.” 

You scoff. “You can’t be serious, Astarion.” Astarion’s gaze meets the floor. 

As you study your lover, your anger dissipates. You see how hurt he is, how unsure of himself he feels. He wasn’t likely to tell you that outright, but you knew.

You can’t place how you feel, anymore. You aren’t numb, per say, but there is a distinct lack of feeling within you. You hadn’t thought this a possibility. You didn’t know if you were happy or sad, or if you would even be up to the challenge.

You needed some time to think, to let this soak in. 

“You know, I just remembered that Shadowheart invited me over for tea the other day,” Your excuse is lame, but Astarion doesn’t stop you as you awkwardly walk down the steps, off to the crowded streets of the city. 

***

Astarion was a mess the whole time you were gone. He tried to keep himself busy by doing various things around Jaheira’s house, but he kept finding himself lost in thought, thinking about that little bundle of life inside of you.

He felt greatly relieved when you returned.

He waited for you in one of the spare bedrooms, the one you always shared when you two passed through Baldur's Gate. 

He was pretending to read when you came in, trying not to seem too eager to talk with you. He heard the continued thump of the little heart beat alongside your own. His anxiety is paramount, but he feels a wave of relief crash over him at the sound of the life inside of you.

Astarion tried to accept that you hadn’t slept with anyone else: you couldn’t have, it was literally impossible. And he knew you never would have, anyways. But, since you didn’t sleep with another man, that meant that he, Astarion Ancunin, impregnated you. 

“How was your date with Shadowheart?” Astarion asks, peeking over his book. You had begun to undress yourself, and Astarion couldn’t help but steal a glance. 

He noticed the sway of your breasts as you freed them; the tips of them being especially tight and a darker pink than usual. 

Gods. It was like you were purposefully wafting your scent right in his face. You were sweeter than usual, and Astarion felt a bit ashamed at his growing stiffness. 

Earlier, he had accused you of sleeping with another man, even though he very well knew you hadn’t. And now, he was ogling you, thinking about all the pregnant women he had seen in his long life: it hadn’t been very many. Pregnant women didn’t often frequent the flophouses late at night. 

But he imagined how your belly would swell, how your hips would round, and how your breasts would become even larger…the thought aroused Astarion, far more than he expected it to. He had to stop himself when he imagined your milk-filled breasts; another bodily fluid of yours that your vampire was desperate to taste.

“It was alright,” Your voice was shaky as you finally covered your breasts, to Astarion’s relief. He tried to ignore his swollen cock. “She confirmed. What you said.” 

Astarion places his book down, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, placing himself closer to you. He really doesn’t know what to do, or how he feels, but Astarion does know one thing: that he adores you, and he can’t handle the distance between the two of you. 

So, the vampire reaches out, desperate for your contact. Astarion feels much better when you take his hand, sitting next to him.

“I’m sorry for my accusation earlier. I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around it all.” His tone is good humored, down to earth, as he wants to be sweet to you. You deserved it.

“It’s rare. Practically a miracle.” You say, but your face is absent of the smile that Astarion had expected from you.

Astarion didn’t really know how you felt about children. He assumed you didn’t want them because you chose to be with him, but he expected you to be a little bit happier than you looked. 

“There are remedies, you know. If we don’t want this.” You say, looking away from him as you do. 

“Well…it’s your body, Tav.” Astarion spoke gently, wanting to be careful with you, because you were always so careful with him. “I can’t tell you what to do with it.” 

Astarion imagined that if taking care of seven thousand vampire spawn in the Underdark was something the two of you had managed, then a child couldn’t be too difficult. (Many years from now would prove Astarion very wrong in thinking this).

“What If I keep it? Would you leave me?” You speak quietly, carefully, as if you were treading dangerous waters; asking questions you didn’t actually want to know the answer to.

Astarion doesn’t hesitate, desperately wanting to comfort you. “No,” Astarion squeezed your hand, grabbing the other as you faced each other. “I honestly can’t imagine a scenario where I would.” 

You smile a bit, and Astarion smiles back. “So, what do we do?” You ask tentatively. 

Astarion sighs, a hand going to caress your cheek, bringing you closer as he pulls you into a tender kiss. “We keep living, of course.”

Part 2!

Masterlist

[write-and-wander]

That Night

Astarion x Female Tav/Reader Description: A slowed-down, in-depth retelling of the aftermath of the Cazador fight; looking deeper into the thoughts and feelings of Astarion and his lover. Warnings: Violence and trauma mentions

She loved him.

That was all she knew. That was all she could think of, in this moment.

He had finally conquered his demons- no, his own hell. It was over, now, and the story could continue however he wanted it to. And instead of jumping head-first into any direction, he looked to her for guidance. Because despite the past that drove him to this point, the only future he cared about was one she would be a part of.

So he looks to her, bloodied Cazador at his feet, fate-sealing dagger in hand, heart laid out in a state of vulnerability completely unknown, and asks her what to do.

She looks back at him, her own hands bloodied from the exhausting battle they had just endured, and knows that she loves him. She loves him. Just as he is. She wouldn’t wish him any other way.

She can see the fear, yes. The drive for power, and revenge, but even more than that; the ecstasy of being able to take the one thing Cazador wants after he had taken so, so much from Astarion- the perfect act of justice.

And she asks him only to take it from Cazador- she asks him not to take it for himself. She asks him to keep his freedom, rather than submit himself to the shackles of madness that unprecedented power would demand.

And his open, bleeding heart is suddenly soft.

Though he may not get to take and keep, he is more than happy to take and watch evil lose.

So he does.

With shaking body and ragged breath, he drives the dagger into Cazador’s chest as a mortician’s hammer drives nails into a coffin; sealing death. The death of Cazador, the purest form of evil he has ever known. The death of who he could have been, in all the corrupt power he could have basked in. The death of life as he once knew it, defined only by the black and white chess game between power and powerless. He stabs straight through Cazador’s heart, and again, and again, and again; a desperate frenzy that will never quite feel like enough, until he is forced to stop.

His body fails him in its divine relief. Decades of pain, fear, and torture are at last released with his final act. He will never know Cazador’s pain again. His will never have to run from the monster that chases him again. He will never be a toy or a lure again. He is free, and he won, and he is still, somehow, despite everything, in tact. Inexplicable tension is finally let go completely. He collapses to his knees, wails ripping through his chest and echoing against the stone cold walls that surround him.

She watches as her very heart weeps in a grief she could never even begin to comprehend. The heart that beats in her chest seems to twist in its own turmoil, and a sympathetic hand- or perhaps the hand of a friend desperate to grip something else in an attempt to maintain their own balance- finds her shoulder. Her own tears stream down her face, as do the tears of the friends who helped them make it here.

Astarion’s “siblings-” not by blood, but certainly by bond- rush over to him, their faces contorted in concern combined with utter disbelief.

Her mouth opens for a moment; she wants to ask them to stop, to give her heart space to breathe, to please, gods, don’t touch him, but the words stick in her throat. She’s too choked up to speak, but gratitude sinks in as she realizes that this is their moment of blessed freedom, too. They shared in their pain together- they deserve to share in their relief together, too.

He steels himself as they approach, and she sees Astarion the Upper City Magistrate show himself as the suddenly gentler elf seamlessly steps into a place of leadership. The others look to him in a sudden cry for a compass- they are free, but they are left without direction; and he so easily gifts it to them. He gives them direction, and offers what little encouragement he can to the now-freed slaves. Thousands of spawn are suddenly given a second chance, now that the pale elf had changed their fates- a thankless act that outweighs his sins tenfold.

It isn’t until they leave to fulfill their last charge that he returns to his lover. He hesitantly takes her hands in his, and she grasps them with the same gentleness in confidence. He had done it. It was over.

There’s an instinct in her to hug him; to enfold herself around him in an act of love, and yet, she knows her beloved vampire better than that. He will come and effortlessly wrap himself in all that she is when he is ready. Instead, she gently presses kisses onto his bloodied hands.

He looks to the companions that now stand beside her- his friends, who have so selflessly fought for this moment despite his outward reluctance to fight for them.

Though he wouldn’t be able to say it out loud until years later, he loves them. That is what he feels in this moment, in its purest form. Though it is seamlessly woven into waves of gratitude and grief, he feels love. For all of them. For her.

Later that night, after the sun goes down and most of the others had retired to their tents, Astarion does, indeed, find himself in his lover’s tent. Later still, after a long and tear-filled conversation periodically interrupted with near-silent fits of weeping, Astarion buries himself into his lover’s arms. He cries until trance overtakes him.

And all through that night, she holds him.

And the sun rises. And a new day comes. And they will find out all it holds, together.

[astaribun]

Things to show/experience with Astarion after you save the world:

Showering and/or bathing together, in the fluffy I'll wash your hair for you way

Solving murders and disappearances in the city to be the heroes that never came for him

Going on dates, publicly, proudly

Holding hands as you walk

Shopping for clothes and accessories and shoes

Finding a cute little house to live in and decorating it

Adopting a cat

Becoming ageless to live forever together (many options available)

Oooooor curing him of vampirism and growing old with him

Finding a way for him to walk in the sun

Checking in on the spawn

Having game nights with the members party that are still in baldur's gate

Helping Dammon find a way to fix Karlach's heart

Trips to visit their favorite wizard mostly to see Tara

Turning Cazador's palace into something he'd have hated, like a hospital or refugee centre

[milyas-girlblogging-era]

was thinking about astarion from baldur’s gate 3 and yk who this mf look like???

bartok the bat from anastasia. same mf personality and vibe too. cheeky shady dubious little man.

TELL ME THIS ISNT LITERALLY YALLS MAN.

[strigital]

Chase your dreams, and remember me, sweet bravery

'Cause after all those wings will take you, up so high

[nottragic-stilltoothsome]

The only ascesion he is getting in my game

[brain-rot-central]

Spawn!Astarion slowly getting his memories back from when he was alive, after Cazador's murder.

He remembers his last name, his parents, even where he used to live. He goes to the city clerk's office and puts in a request to search for his parents, to see if they're still living in the city. He has to charm the secretary at the desk, but he inevitably gets what he wants.

He remembers his parents both being High Elves, but different denominations: his mother is a Moon Elf, his father a Sun Elf. He remembers that his mother gave him his name, an Elvish name for "Little Star." He inherited his mother's silver hair and his father's golden eyes.

The city clerk returns his request slip with a poorly scribbled address, but one that he remembers all too well from his time alive. He sets out to reach the Upper City, and reunite with his family after 200 years away.

[just-a-nibble]

Before It Felt Like A Sin

Featuring: spawn!Astarion x gn!Tav (partially set post game ending) Tags: Astarion POV, song fic, fluff, not proof-read, no beta Word count: ~300 words (not including song lyrics) Based on Sinner by The Last Dinner Party A/N: I just kept thinking about Astarion while listening to this song, so I had to do something about it. I haven't written in a hot minute, so feedback is more than appreciated!

I wish I knew you Back when we were both small I wish I knew you But I have gotten too tall

I wish I knew you When touch was innocent I wish I knew you Before it felt like a sin

A sliver of the campfire's orange hues pierced the darkness of Astarion's dark tent. Lying on planks and rags, he peaked through the small gap that let the light in, piercing eyes focusing on your figure. Mere steps away if he were to get up, yet so distant.

Huffing, Astarion turned his gaze up to the dark ceiling of his tent. The fabric walls felt like they were collapsing in on him, suffocating him. His plan had been so simple, so mechanical. He did not have to think, 200 years worth of habits kicked in, leading him through every movement. It was a danced he had beautifully mastered.

Yet he could not find his footing around you. Not anymore.

There's nothing for me Here where the world is small But how you touch me For that I'd leave it all

Back in the city Cold eyes and lips of dust So turn and face me Turn to the altar of lust

"You deserve something real," he whispered.

Despite knowing it was impossible, Astarion was sure he could feel his undead heart beat faster, contort and push against its bone cage. His chest was heavy, same as the air between you as he anxiously awaited your answer. There was no turning back now, nor was there a point to. His broken mind was made up, simple plan be damned. He should have known it would not be so "simple" the moment he met you.

There was nothing simple about you; Astarion saw that now.

Stay through the night I'd spend the mornings by your side Time slips away Before the hillside turns to grey

Pray for me, kneel with me Soak in the crystal stream Wash the sin from your back

Cleanse my soul, make me whole Dance in the morning glow Hold me, we can't go back

Before it felt like a sin

"Peace and quiet" you had suggested, once the Netherbrain had been defeated. Not really his type of thing, but Astarion could accept it... for a time. He understood your need for repose after everything you had endured, and everything that you would undoubtedly face in the future. For now, strolling the streets by night and sharing a bed by day, always hand in hand, was enough.

But trouble had a way of finding you and it amused him in a way. It was as if you were provoking life and all of the Gods above. But he was not worried about the future. Not anymore, not as much. Not with you by his side.

No matter what was awaiting you.

[tiannasfanfic]

Auntie Ethel’s Cure

Astarion x Drow!Reader (Fluff)

| Astarion Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: Another promised cure for your tadpoles ends up being just another dead end when a powerful Hag is unable to remove it.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral Tav/Reader, they/them pronouns used (if any). Spawn!Astarion x Drow!Reader, but no descriptions of Tav/Reader's appearance. Fluff with Mild Hurt/Comfort. Takes place during Act 1 before heading to the Goblin Village during the "Investigate Kahga" quest. The dialogue between Auntie Ethel and Tav/Reader is taken from BG3 based on the dialogue options chosen in my current play through.

CW: Mentions of eye removal (no details, just that it happened); mentions of Astarion drinking blood (no details, just that he does it).

Word Count: 1,734

The party had been quiet ever since you and Astarion returned from the Tea House.

Morale was now lower than ever. Yet another lead on removing the tadpole had proven to be a bust. Not only that, but you’d lost an eye in the process.

But, even with her failure, Auntie Ethel had done something that no one else had been able to do thus far. She was able to provide you with more information about it.

“You little shit, you didn’t tell me it was Netherese!” the Hag had growled as she released the magic that held you for the procedure, resulting in you collapsing in a heap on the floor. “I’m not touching that!”

“Netherese?” you asked, sounding dazed as Astarion helped you up.

Auntie Ethel nodded.

“Filthy shadow magic - brings nothing but chains and misery,” she said, then grimaced in pain as she gingerly rubbed her right hand, the tips of her claws now black after the failed extraction. “How could I have missed that stink? It’s like blood and piss congealing on my tongue. Bleh.”

As if to emphasize her point, the Hag turned and spat in the dirt.

“Someone’s tampered with your parasite,” she continued, turning back to gaze again at you and Astarion. “That’s likely why you’ve not turned yet.”

At this point, the shocked daze you were began to lift. You shook your head rapidly as if to clear it, grimaced, then refocused your gaze on the Ethel.

“What do you mean, ‘tampered’?” you asked.

The Hag chuckled, an expression coming to her face that was reminiscent of an old lady looking at a small child who just said something silly.

“Bless us, you’re as slow as a wet week,” she said, almost affectionately, then pointed one of her singed claws towards your forehead. “That thing has been touched by more than Mindflayers.”

Then came the dreaded words that no one wanted to hear, the words that now echoed through everyone’s heads as they silently sat around the campfire.

“You’re a dead soul walking, petal. I can’t help you.”

Ironically, despite her nature, Astarion detected a thread of sympathy in Ethel’s voice. Not much, mind you, not like when she was still trying to sell her harmless little old lady act. Just a thread. She seemed oblivious to it though, and that made him believe her.

You were quiet on the walk back to camp. Once at camp, you told everyone what the Hag had said, word for word, then disappeared into your tent.

That was three hours ago. You had yet to emerge, even after Gale called everyone to dinner.

Generally, it wasn’t like you to sit in your tent and brood. That was Astarion’s job, and sometimes even Shadowheart’s. But you? You were the one that always pulled them out of their dark thoughts. You had a knack for snapping them out of the dark recesses of their minds, even if it involved just barging into their tents and dragging them out by force.

Looking around at everyone, Astarion could see they were all bothered by the day’s events. No one was eating much, not even Karlach. They were poking at their bowls of stew, with occasional glances of worry towards your tent.

After a while, he couldn’t take it anymore. The silence, the lack of jokes and laughter, the gloom. Even Gale was silent and that never happens. Normally he’d be going on about what technique he used to sear the meat for the stew or waxing philosophic about his collection of spices back home. Granted, Astarion normally tuned him out, but at least there was something to tune out.

Getting to his feet, he approached your tent. The flaps of your tent were closed and there was no sound coming from inside. He began to wonder then if you’d fallen asleep, but then he listened more closely to single out the sound of your heartbeat and breathing. Both were steady, indicating you weren’t asleep.

He paused just outside and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

“Tav? May I come in?”

Only a moment passed before you answered.

“Of course.”

You sounded normal, your voice its usual tone and timber. That was a good sign, or so Astarion hoped.

As he brought his hand up to open the flap of your tent, the sudden feeling of being watched washed over him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw everyone at the campfire was watching him with hopeful expressions. Karlach and Wyll both gave him an encouraging thumbs up. Astarion rolled his eyes in response before ducking inside your tent.

Once inside, he could see that you hadn’t been idle for these past few hours. You had gotten yourself cleaned up from the marsh and changed into your camp clothes. The muck and grime had been cleaned off your armor as well. It sat in a neat pile near the tent flap, ready for tomorrow’s adventures.

Presently though, you were having an idle moment as you sat on your bedroll, mirror in hand.

You were gazing at your reflection thoughtfully, looking at yourself one way for a moment before tilting your head to see yourself at a different angle.

If you were bothered by the change to your appearance, it wasn’t apparent, but that didn’t mean anything. Drow were nothing if not vain and you were no exception to this.

After watching you for a few moments, Astarion cleared his throat again.

“What are we thinking, darling?” he asked.

You tilted your head to the side a bit, raising and lowering your brows at the same time, like you were shrugging with your face instead of your shoulders.

“It’s not bad, all things considered,” you finally said, setting the mirror aside and finally looking up at him. “Did she leave any scarring? It doesn’t look like she did, but my vision on that side isn’t that good anymore.”

Astarion’s eyebrows shot up at that statement.

“Really, darling?” he repeated, an incredulous tone to his voice as he crouched down in front you. “Just, ‘not that good anymore’?”

You chuckled softly.

“I guess there’s no point in lying, huh?” you asked, looking up at him.

Astarion shook his head and you sighed.

There was no hiding it. While your eye was still wholly intact, anyone could see that it was as dead as the deer Gale had used in tonight’s stew. It was completely whited out now, with no trace left of its original color, the gaze coming from it emotionless and blank.

Gently taking hold of your chin, he tilted your head up towards the light so he could see that side of your face better.

To his amazement, you were right. Auntie Ethel had done excellent work as far as damage went. She’d left behind no scarring, no tissue damage apart from the obvious. The only blemishes and scars were the ones you already had.

“It’s not bad,” he finally said, letting go of your chin before smirking. “If anything, you’re an even scarier Drow now.”

A bark of laughter came from you at his words.

“True,” you said, and a grin came to your face. “Who knows? Maybe this will make things easier for us now.”

Now it was Astarion’s turn to bark laughter, which he did as he got to his feet.

“As nice as that would be, darling, our luck isn’t that good,” he said, extending a hand out in an offer to help you up. “Now, let’s get some dinner in you. You’ve had a long day and tomorrow will be even longer still.”

You quirked a brow at him as you placed your hand in his.

“Now now, Astarion,” you said as he pulled you to your feet. “Keep saying things like that and I might actually start thinking you care about me.”

Astarion felt a slight pang in his chest at your words, but brushed it off like he always did. It was happening more often now since spending that night with you in the clearing. He just assumed it was due to your blood. Even though he’d fed in a few human bandits since then, none of them had tasted anything like you. No doubt it was a side effect of you being his first, and he was sure it would go away in time.

But, even still, you’d placed a lot of trust in him by letting him drink from you again after what happened the first time. Whether intentional or a decision made in the heat of the moment, he wasn’t sure, but he was still grateful for it all the same. It was a nice, unexpected treat before the act he had to perform.

Presently, Astarion realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts, and shook his head to clear it.

“Of course I care about you, darling,” he said in his most charming voice, as he turned and walked away. “You’re my backup food source.”

Upon reaching the front of your tent, he swept open the flap with one arm and looked back at you as he gestured outside with the other.

“Shall we?”

Despite your excellent composure, Astarion could read the telltale signs of amusement on your face. There was a slight crinkle at one corner of your mouth, a very slight but brief lowering of your eyelids.

“I suppose,” you said nonchalantly, then came over to join him at the door. “Just remember, no more midnight surprises.”

Astarion opened his mouth to make a witty retort, but the words died on his tongue when you patted his shoulder reassuringly as you headed out of your tent. This gesture indicated that, despite your words and stoic tone, you were just teasing him. But what really got his tongue was your touch itself. His arm felt pleasantly warm and almost tingly where your hand had been.

It felt…nice.

Not as nice as waking up with you in his arms, but still nice all the same.

Astarion blinked, then shook his head hard as he quickly followed you from the tent.

He had no idea where that thought had come from.

It was a little bit alarming, but now that camp was back to normal following your departure from the tent, he had the ambient sound of people talking to tune out while he sat at the campfire brooding over it.

[faerievampling]

Tender

Summary: After the tadpole is gone, Spawn!Astarion's newfound vampiric strength must be tempered when making love to Tav.

Ao3 Link Here!

pairing: Astarion x Female Tav

word count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+. Cunnilingus. PiV. Vaginal Fingering. Blood drinking. Spoilers for end game content.

Astarion brushes his lips against yours; his touch is so tender, as if he fears he may break you. You sigh into him as his strong hand trails up your neck to cup your jaw. He cradles you to him as he deepens the kiss, swirling his practiced tongue around yours.

When Astarion’s full vampiric strength came back to him after the defeat of the Netherbrain, he had hurt you - by accident, of course. 

His lovemaking had left bruises on your delicate skin. Astarion was torn up over this, that he had hurt his lover, the one person he truly cares for. But Astarion had been used to using you as he pleased. You never told him what to do, and he was in control of the bedroom.

He hadn’t realized his own strength. He was always starved and weak before the tadpole; but now, he is a very well fed vampire, and he found that he was inhumanly strong nowadays.

But now, Astarion realizes just how fragile you are, and how careful he must be.

Astarion places a hand on your waist as he delicately leads you to lie on your bed. When you meet Astarion’s gaze as he climbs on top of you, his eyes are rounded, his soul open and inviting as he bears his heart to you.

Every time the two of you made love since you defeated Cazador, it was like this. Astarion would often get emotional in one way or another, but you worked through it together. You were to follow his lead, let him explore, and intervene only when absolutely necessary. Astarion trusted you to know when the ‘absolutely necessary’ clause of this agreement should be applied. 

Letting Astarion explore sometimes lead him to be rough with you: not that you minded, of course, quite the contrary. But with the tadpole gone, things had changed. 

The two of you take each other in for a moment: his curls, which tendril down wildly as he hovers above you, frame his cute pointy ears. His full lips are parted, showing you the tip of his fangs as he often does when he’s feeling lustful. 

Astarion puts his hand on your neck before he moves up to thumb the plump of your lower lip. He then gives you a little smile before using a knee to spread your legs, fully putting your wet cunt on display. 

A low growl escapes Astarion’s throat at the sight of you. Your pale lover hooks one of your legs on his shoulder as he lies beside you, his eyes glued to your sex. 

“So pretty…” Astarion murmurs as he swipes a finger from your entrance to your clit, causing you to tremble with need.

Your cunt is already so wet, your folds swollen and muscles relaxed, ready and desperate for Astarion’s touch. He gently slides a finger into your entrance with little resistance. You clench around him as you search for his lips, which find yours instinctively. 

Astarion slides his finger out of you slowly. Your beloved was still mastering your body, but he always seemed to know when you were ready for more. As he slides a second finger into your entrance, he breaks your kisses, watching you as you take more of him. He pushes his long fingers into you until he is knuckles deep, which evolves your little whimpers into breathless moans.

Astarion watches as he unravels you with the curl of his fingers deep inside your cunt. Your eyes roll at the intense sensation, and you’re already seeing stars.

“Such a good girl, my sweet darling.” His deep, silky voice gives away how much he was enjoying this. He loved the smell of your desire, your reactions to his touch, and your full trust in him. 

As Astarion is hitting that sweet spot deep within you, his thumb begins to circle your clit, causing your eyes to go wide as carnal pleasure possesses you. 

Suddenly, Astarion pulls out his fingers from you slowly, watching your needy expression with a smirk. He lowers himself before he takes your swollen clit into his mouth, wrapping his lips around your sex and gently sucking.

A moan escapes your lips, which Astarion thinks is rather cute, and he smiles against your sex before returning to tasting your folds. 

Astarion loves the way you taste, and can’t help but ease his tongue into your entrance. His fingers move to your labia, spreading your lips so that he may devour his lover properly.  

Once Astarion is done teasing you and building you up, his tongue moves to your clit, making soft circular motions that make you writhe beneath him. 

You try to tell Astarion you’re about to come, but you’re breathless, and all you can do is tangle your fingers in his lovely curls and brace yourself for your impending orgasm.

Luckily, your body is able to speak for you, and your lover is very attentive. 

Astarion brings a hand up to squeeze your nipple as you come on his tongue, and your scent nearly drives him mad. He desperately wants to take you, to fuck you, to sup of your blood just as he had your delicious cunt.

His lips stay on your core until you squirm away from him from overstimulation. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you back to him before placing a kiss on the inside of your thigh. 

“May I?” Astarion asks through his lashes. You nod, and you see the excitement flicker across his face. 

Astarion kisses you once more before he slides his fangs into you, slowly drinking you in. He savors it, because he needn’t take too much; he didn’t like you feeling bloodless, and anything more than a few sips was a treat enough for him.

He moans against your skin after releasing you, lapping up the spilled blood as he undoes his trousers, freeing his cock from its constraints. 

Astarion is already primed and ready to take you. He feels so connected to you after drinking in your essence, and he wants more. Sitting up on his knees between your legs, his hands harshly grip your splayed thighs as he pulls you to him, ready to fuck your brains out until you’re a drooling, sobbing mess.

But he remembers himself; remembers the bruises he left on you. In these moments, he deeply misses the tadpole, and how alive it made him. Now, he has to be vigilant. But it is worth it for you. To love you properly, the way you deserve, whichever way Astarion can show you how. 

The one thing he knows he can do is protect you, even if it is from a part of himself. 

As Astarion lines his cock up with your entrance, he leans over and presses a tender, almost chaste, kiss on your lips. He meets your gaze as he pushes himself into you, a moan escaping your lips as he fills you.

Astarion hooks both of your legs on his shoulders as he strokes you. His motions are slow, consistent, and he is so incredibly deep, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. 

He is cradling you, holding you so close and fucking you slowly: it had never been like this for him before, but he loves it. He loves you. 

Astarion doesn’t last long like this - you feel so perfect in his arms, and your cunt so warm, so tight, it feels like heaven once he finally comes deep inside of you.

Astarion rolls off of you before pulling you into his chest, not wanting to end your skin to skin contact so soon. He could get use to this, Astarion thinks.

Masterlist

[holyghostbelle]

Covenant: one

spawn!astarion x cazador's neice! tav

The fire had been violent, tearing and eating everything in its path,It gorged itself on your room, stuffing its fiery belly with your gowns and then for dessert it had enough room for your parents, and so you find your self in the cold palace, where sunlight is scarce and blood runs darker. But now Cazador can use you to play his game. Marrying you off to a powerful Nobel for his own evil bidding it's a pity that you lack charm in the act of seduction, if only there was someone to teach you. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

based of an idea written by @thechaoticdruid

PLEASE READ: CONTENT WARNING: Im unsure of how graphic the content of this fic is going to get, but considering i'm writing about Cazador I assume the fit will get pretty violent also considering it is D&D so... If you’re not an adult, please leave. If you’re not okay with violence, this probably isn’t something you should read. if your incredibly squeamish with descriptions of violence and gore please leave.

Chapter one.

You had never flirted around with the idea of death.

Well properly, There had been no adventuring in dark dungeons, fighting in wars or even a bar fight. You had sat pretty and read in the family library, books of mere fairy tales like the sleepy dragon under wyrm's crossing,the druid wolf that gobbled up the young girl in the red cloak and vampires.Only rumours around baldur's gate until the missing posters had started piling up over notice boards all over the lower city,They had become more of a awaiting nightmare and you recall how your father had recounted the days walking home from the Tavern had been safe and now only 100 years later stumbling home drunk on ale would result in a fate far worse than death. Families had never recovered, not properly, not ever. Fore missing posters would remain littered all over the city.

And now you could understand why, flickering embers, crumbling white bricks now stained with black soot. The white marble floor covered in ash and black wooden beams broken from the ceiling,You were orphaned, left all alone.You stepped over broken glass in your riding boots. You wail. Knees Buckling and buried in dirt of your parents grave and home,their ashes now belonging to the air. Never to be seen again.

There was no evidence of ill intent from what started the fire, maybe a maid had slipped with a glass of whiskey, perhaps the sun had shone so brightly that day, resulting in a letter going up in flames from its purchase just beneath the azure stained glass windows. Maybe your mother had been prancing around with a flaming arrow just outside the house and heroically gone to save her beloved. The flaming fist’s had marked the fire as an accident and the death of your parents as an unfortunate incident. No bodies to bury. And now no money, no vault key or vault pass to be retrieved from the home. The fire had been violent, tearing and eating everything in its path, it gobbled up hungrily and grew and grew. Feasting upon wallpaper, jewels ,books and your beloved fairy tales. It gorged itself on your room, stuffing its fiery belly with your gowns and then for dessert it had enough room for your parents.

So you find yourself in the cold comfort of Szarr Palace, and as clean as the oak floors are kept .The smell of blood and vermin had not tired itself from the dark red curtains that covered the large windows painted white, there was no light filtering through out the halls of Szarr Palace unlike what you had known. Your uncle had welcomed you in with open arms, his long nails scratching at your bare arms in cruel demise as he pulled you in for a short hug, your mother and him had been close he had told you, showing you the family portrait, your mothers warmth encompassing the canvas.

“How old are you, girl?” Cazador sneers down at you, his ruby eyes grazing across your untouched face.

“I've just turned Twenty, Uncle” You reply, gentle eyes burning into the dark red carpet.

“Nearly an adult and you're not betrothed? Your father hadn't promised you to anyone?”He interrogates. Your eyes glassy as you gaze up at the sneering man who dominates the space above you, his hands clasped behind his back as he leans over you.

You shake your head. His eyes inspecting your features they run over the expanse of your cheeks and your hair, his pale hands grapes at your chin, your eyes widening as he pushes your head up at him to get a better look. “Yes you'll do well, pity you're so plain and meek” he scoffs in disdain, sharp nails catching at you neck as he lets his grip on you go, his hand flicks to the side of him.

“Take her to the west wing and prepare the bath, let's let our new dweller get settled in” he smiles at you, but his eyes do not smile back.

You notice a bead of blood trail from the nick he had left in the gold framed mirror moments later. Dalyria stifles at the door of the bathroom, nose flared and eyes wide. You wipe the blood with your handkerchief. As you wrestle with your corset.

“Im so sorry do you mind” you turn to her and she approaches wearily as you smile.

“Of course my lady.”

“Oh you don't have to call me that, please” you blush as your corset falls to the floor in front of you clanging on the marble floor.

“I'll take your handkerchief miss, get it clean for you” she smiles sweetly and you nod as you undress alone and retreat into your bath, you hear the door close behind her and your eyes flicker to the ceiling, wet fingers gripping on the ledge of the ceramic bath ,you pull yourself under the hot water and scream.

Dusk falls and you have found yourself wandering down the expanse halls at night with a candelabra to stare at the only image of your mother you had left,the door opens quietly and you hear hushed whispers and a pad of footprints lead up to the stairs, there's a giggle from someone. You pull yourself back into the curtains that hang from the door frame, eyes squinting in the dark as a white haired man tumbles up the stairs quietly, hand hand gripping another he turns and suddenly his face goes placid. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Was there another guest staying at Szarr? And then there's a horrible crashing noise and a large thump. You spot the white haired man dragging an unsightly body, neck bent backwards , you blow your candle out quickly as you feel eyes upon you. You look and spot his gaze but he continues on as if he had never seen you,he carries the body further down the hallway and you stumble back to your room in horror you don't sleep that night mind plagued with the fear he will come back to catch you.

You had never flirted around with death, but it had grabbed your shoulder so tightly and promised it would be back one date to greet you as an old friend, you hoped it would return soon and collect its debt.

[pendlewood]

Set the scene—extremely slow burn romance between Forest Gnome Ranger and our beloved Astarion. They slept together the one time, but our Ranger (Irune is her name) ended the romance (for a number of reasons), not one of which being that she didn’t have feelings for him. She had very soft feelings for him indeed! Very soft and entirely unspoken feelings for our vampire companion.

Now fast forward 3 years after the defeat of the Netherbrain. Our Ranger has returned from her time with Karlach in Avernus. She receives a letter from Grand Duke Ravengard (not to be confused with The Blade of Avernus *pose*), requesting her presence in Wyrm’s Rock. The people of Baldur’s Gate have gifted the Hero of Baldur’s Gate a home, so that she may always be welcome, and as a thanks for saving the city. Immediately she thinks of the last time she saw her companions, when Minsc mentioned that he’d stumbled upon Astarion’s camp in the sewers more than once.

She sends a letter to Jahira asking if she’d see to it that Astarion moves into the home in her stead. She’s a Forest Gnome after all, and she’s not likely to take up permanent residence in the Gate.

Two months later, she finally returns to the city. She informs Astarion of her visit ahead of time, as she will be staying in the home.

Cohabiting with soft soft feelings for a one time fling? Astarion making a vampire cave of the home (like the inside of his tent but a smidge more comfortable)? Not like he’s bringing anyone over; it’s his safe space, if a bit lacking in certain aspects. In comes Irune, our no-nonsense nature loving gnome with Struggles* post-Netherbrain and Avernus. What ensues? FEELINGS, angst, pining, etc etc.

Thoughts? 🤔

[scurvgirl]

I found Ansur today and had thoughts. My little cleric has also been having some feelings. I was also thinking it'd be kinda cool for clerics to have Commune in BG3.

For some context: she is half-wood elf and follows Mielikki (did I choose this goddess because of the unicorn? Yes, but that's besides the point) and Astarion is NOT ascended here but Cazador is dealt with. General Act 3 spoiler warnings!

__

Everyone was celebrating the dragon slaying. Everyone, that is, except Mynara.

She kept herself from the revelers, her heart and mind troubled enough to make the festivities feel...misplaced, perhaps. As quietly as she could manage, she slipped out of their rooms within the Elfsong, heading for the rooftop. The sun was just about set and with it she felt some of her energy wane. Part of being a light cleric - she rose and fell with the sun each day.

Footsteps behind her had her spinning 'round -

"Astarion, you surprised me."

"My apologies, darling, but you did leave a party celebrating one of your accomplishments." He was of course stunning in the quickly fading light, even with the downturn of his lips as he looked on her with concern. It was a look she was seeing more and more often now they were in the city.

"What's troubling you?" He asked and damn, she needed to be honest with him. What was the point of having a partner if you couldn't confide in them?

So, she spoke. "All of my training and worship before this taught me that the undead are to be reviled. That they're - you're - abominations and it is a sacred ability of ours to return you death."

Astarion quirked a brow, "Quite the plot if you're going to kill me now."

Mynara rolled her eyes but smiled, "Never, love. What I'm saying is...I think it's wrong, they're wrong. Yes, Cazador was a monster and the world is immeasurably better off without him, no question. But then there's you - who defied all odds and you've done good, Astarion, and you are healing and growing as a person. These are things that...that they said weren't possible to those who weren't truly alive and I think...I'm wondering if undeath is really just unlife."

"Unlife?"

"You're not alive but not dead but you have the ability to learn, to grow, to...live, albeit differently. I think of Thrumbo and his friends who were so wrongly turned into zombies and abused by Carrion, or the seven thousand spawn having a chance and...I think of Ansur, who we just killed."

Astarion watched her as she bit her lip and began to worry at her hands. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, "I don't know if killing him was the right thing and it terrifies me to think that. It terrifies me that I love you so much and that I don't regret freeing the spawn or helping Thrumbo. It terrifies me because...because if they were wrong about this, what else were they wrong about? I love my goddess and my faith and I believe in her but this...I see you in the sunlight and you are radiant. I see Thrumbo getting a chance of life. And I saw Ansur, still righteously fighting against what he thought to be a monster inhabiting his friend and I question."

The pain and worry and indecision mingled together in a frightful storm within her and she couldn't bear to look at Astarion. Not when she talked like this, not when she questioned the source of her power, or the only consistent sense of comfort in her life for more than a decade now.

Larger, paler hands gently took hers. She slowly looked up into her love's red eyes to find...not understanding, not quite softness, but...comfort?

"You are the one good at these pep talk things, but I suppose I will try. Darling, if you wish to break from your faith because you disagree with it, if they have harmed you - then I will stand by you the entire step of the way. But do not sever this for me, or for Thrumbo, or for Ansur - this is about you and your faith. You do not need to sacrifice yourself for me, for anyone."

Damn Astarion and his fucking voice and his words. He was always doing this, pulling her away from the self-sacrificing ledge. It had kept her alive and well, grounded.

She swallowed thickly and turned towards the fading light. There was an old ritual she saw the priest do once...perhaps she needed to not think about what mortals had taught her and commune directly with The Forest Queen herself.

Mynara undid her bracelet of wooden beads, all carved with Her holy symbols, and placed it upon the ground in front of her. She kneeled and began to pray.

A warm, glowing feeling pressed against her like a cat and she smiled. She was here.

"Forest Queen...I want to help the unliving, and I do not think they are inherently evil. I don't wish to purge them from this plane or any other. May...may I remain in your service with this thinking?"

More warmth pressed against her and a gentle breeze rustled her hair like her mother used to when she was a child to convey the feeling of course, little one.

Tears welled in Mynara's eyes, "Thank you. May I use your blessings to help them?" Pressure on her hands, like a kind mother squeezing them - yes.

One more...she had one more...the questions for her were answered but there was one more...She felt Astarion behind her and knew he was listening, knew he wouldn't exactly approve of the question, but when an opportunity presents itself....

"Thank you, my Queen, I forever walk within your Forest. I have one more question...my beloved, Astarion, is a vampire spawn. He is dearer to me than any words I could say. Is...is there way for him to safely walk in the sunlight again without Ascension?"

"Mynara -

The breeze whipped around her hair, leaving her briefly cold...only for the sun's warmth to return to her in the form of a kiss to the forehead. Perhaps there is.

With that, the warmth abated, and Mynara opened eyes she hadn't realized she'd closed. The sun had set, leaving the sky a beautiful shade of indigo. Her face was wet with tears and unmistakable joy filled her heart.

Mynara turned to Astarion, smiling brightly even as he scowled with his arms crossed.

"How many times do I have to tell you -

"There's a way, Astarion, there's a way, and I'm still a cleric and she is...happy with me. Love, for once, for fucking once - it was all good." She was up and pulling him into a tight hug in mere moments.

"Don't get your hopes up, it's probably something awful."

"I will hope enough for the both of us, love." She held onto him tight and smiled and smiled.

She had hope and more importantly she had faith.

[mlarty]

The Devil's Garden 🌹 🩸 will he paint them red?

[heph]

A Moment in Time - Dearly Missed