#this is the face that astarion and halsin fell for and they were so right

[evilhorses]

Used the dragons dogma character creation to make Helix and uuughuhghuuuhuhuhuhuuuhhh he's so prettyyyy

He has such a round face his cheekiesss

[mooshywrites]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his shy gender neutral crush accidentally sitting on his lap? They get off immediately while apologising the moment they realised!

A/N - Ahhhhh this prompt idea is so adorable ;-;!!!!!

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Masterlist

Art commissions

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Astarion -

~ Astarion would definitely not let you forget something like this.

~ After a particularly hard day full of fighting, I can see the whole camp deciding to relax and pass around one or two (or a case) of wine.

~ The alcohol goes straight to your head and you’re tripping over your feet in no time. This isn’t a problem, that is until… you stumble and trip your way right into Astarion’s lap

~ Your cheeks get all red, your words coming out with a plethora of excuses and Astarion basks in your embarrassment with glee.

~ He’s secretly loving it for another reason, that being the closeness of you against him now. You’ve been much too shy up to this point to even look him in the eye, let alone touch him

~ You’re falling over yourself trying to get up, apologizing more times than anyone can count and of course Astarion has all the petty things anyone could ever say

~ “If you wanted a place on my lap, you need only ask, darling.”

~ He loves it even more the next morning when he notices that now you can’t even look in his general direction without turning a beautiful shade of red

Gale -

~ Gale would be all jokes if you accidentally sat on him, trying his best to ease the awkward tension

~ “You know, I always thought I looked like an awkwardly plush chair” he would tease, lending a hand to help you up

~ I think he would love the flush to your cheeks, knowing you’re absolutely mortified by the experience.

~ He wouldn’t tell a soul about it, not even in jest. He knows how shy you are and knows the accident would only embarrass you further if your other companions caught wind of it, even if part of him wanted to brag

~ Instead, he would playfully point out ever tripping hazard while with you, leaving it an inside joke between the two of you

Wyll -

~ I can definitely see you losing your balance while practicing a difficult attack, landing right into the Devil’s lap

~ Wyll would be as charming as ever about the whole situation, making a dramatic flourish as he “caught you”

~ He’d probably rave on and on about how the ‘Blade of the Frontiers’ often had to catch damsels in distress as they fell into his awaiting arms. Everyone else may think this was because he was a braggart, but you knew deep down he did it to ease your embarrassment

~He would definitely be kind enough to ignore your reddened cheeks, whispering that everything was absolutely alright as you shot up practically shouting an “I’m sorry”

~ From that moment on, though, he always made sure to be the closest one to you, making sure he’d be there if you needed a knight in shining armor’s lap to save you again

Halsin -

~ You would be immensely tired after a long day of traveling, not even looking where your feet planted as you plopped down on what you thought was a log.

~ You practically jump out of your skin when strong arms wrap around you casually, Halsin continuing on his conversation with the others as if nothing happened

~ You would feel the red hot embarrassment in every nerve of your body, hissing to Halsin to let go, apologizing for sitting on him

~ He would cling on for a few moments, letting out a deep chuckle at your blunder

~ “Think nothing of it, my heart, I simply thought you wanted to sit somewhere softer than the ground. Would you prefer to sit on me if I were a bear?”

~ You couldn’t even answer him, smacking his chest and jumping out of his arms

~ Thank goodness it was dark, you wouldn’t want anyone seeing the goofy smile on your face paired with the knowing grin on the gentle giant elf

Dammon -

~ Dammon would be so generously kind as you accidentally sat on him, helping you back up, worried he made you uncomfortable

~ He would definitely be the only one to be more embarrassed than you, his cheeks the exact same shade of red. He’d try to play it off, but the cracks in his voice gave it away immediately

~ Both of you would be an adorable mess of apologies and stutters, trying to ignore how nice it was to be that close only moments earlier.

~ He would finally clear his throat, trying to change the subject as the red in his cheeks began to even seep down to his neck.

~ You both finally relaxed a little, smiling relieved smiles

~ That is until a very loud, very obvious Astarion would gesture between the two of you, “When the hell are you two going to finally admit you like each other! Seriously, this is getting difficult to watch”

~ It would take days before the you and Dammon could make it through a conversation without sounding like a bumbling lovesick kit after that

Rolan -

~ If anyone could be more awkward than Dammon when you sat on his lap, it would absolutely be Rolan. Apparently the invisibility spell he was trying out worked a little too well.

~ You would let out a shriek as you sat down, expecting the chair to feel… well… like a chair. You spun around to an apologetic smile and hands held up in defense

~ Both of you would choke out an “im sorry” at the same time, giggling a little breathlessly

~ “What the hell were you doing as a chair?” You’d complain, trying to swallow away the embarrassment, not knowing it was written across all of your features

~ “We’ll, technically, I wasn’t a chair” He’d say defensively, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of his already crimson skin

~ Neither of you spoke of it after, but you definitely didn’t miss the way Rolan seemed extra attentive in the days after

Zevlor -

~ Zevlor would be sickly sweet about all of it, a little disappointed when you didn’t stay for more than a moment

~ You’d make up for that when your sweet quiet voice would squeak out some apologies, eyes looking anywhere but him. He so very loved when you were embarrassed like this

~ He’d brush it off quickly, pulling up your hand to kiss it gently

~ This would make you blush more but that was probably his whole goal to begin with

~ “I’m completely at your disposal.” He’d say, taking every opportunity to memorize the shy smile you gave him

[tragedybunny]

Something Like Love - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion has failed to seduce you, but even so, a bond has begun to grow between the two of you. It all comes to a head when Astarion almost loses you.

You infuriated Astarion. At first it was because stopping to help every person you happened upon was delaying dealing with his problems. Now that you had been traveling together for some time, not only were these little side adventures a delay, but you didn’t seem to be careful about how much they took out of you and how tired they left you. Even your other companions didn’t seem to care, letting you agree to solve every problem that you came upon and even adding to the pile.

But not him. Astarion was always right there at your side with a glare and a snapping refusal, which you’d usually brush off, but at least he tried. The rest of them just smiled and nodded, without noticing the circles under your eyes, or how slow you moved some mornings, or how thin you’d gotten. Protector wasn’t a position he normally found himself in, but you were different, you were kind to him, without expecting anything in return, as far as he could tell anyway. The two of you hadn’t even slept together, not for lack of trying on his part. The couple times he’d tried you firmly refused, and yet somehow you stayed kind to him, even still offering him your blood. In fact you didn’t seem to want anyone in camp. That was also exasperating. How could he expect your continued kindness, and protection which he desperately needed, without repayment? And what was he better at than sex?

So he resolved he’d give you whatever small gestures he could. Whenever you tore an item of clothing, he’d mend it at first chance. When the group made camp for the night, he always made sure your tent was up first, in whatever spot you wanted, and helped you pack when it was time to move on. Every battle, he stood at the backline with you while you cast spells, aiming arrows at anyone who got too close to you, his first priority keeping you safe. And he still tried to keep you from overextending yourself, despite no one ever listening to him. Which had led to the shouting match with Halsin earlier. Well it wasn’t really a shouting match, the Druid had remained frustratingly placid in the face of Astarion’s blustering. He’d already been vocally unhappy about looking for this Thaniel or whatever, but you’d found him, and still Halsin asked more. “We need to worry about Thorm, we don’t have time to keep bothering with this!”

“Curing the land could help break Thorm’s hold. I know you all don’t owe it to me.” Gods why did he ask like that, all humble and dissembling. You would cave to that for sure,

“You’re right, we don’t.”

“But…”

“Hells, can’t you see how much all of this is taking out of her!” Astarion had exploded, voice loud enough that some of your other companions jumped.

“It’s fine Astarion,” you’d gently placed a hand on his arm, “let’s finish this.”

With a frustrated growl, he’d yanked his arm away, regretting the hurt on your face. “Fine.”

That all led to this moment, you’d fended off the creatures summoned by the corrupted spirit, and Astarion watches as you calmly approach it. Speaking softly, your words soothe it, and he could see it starting to trust you. As always, you amaze him with your ability to solve things with your words, but he feels a twinge of something else, a want for something like those kind words that fell from your lips so easily. The spirit vanishes and Astarion finally feels a bit of relief it seems over. That is until your knees give way and you collapse to the jagged paving stones beneath you.

He's at your side instantly, a scream tearing itself from his throat. “Somebody fucking help her.”

Shadowheart js the first to respond, hands peeling away the light armor you wear, revealing gashes left by one of those shadow creatures that had gotten close. Teeth bite down into his lip to hold back a sob, he hadn’t even noticed, he’d failed the one duty he had. That ire finds a new target easy enough though, as Halsin attempts to join Shadowheart in tending to you. He’s barely started to kneel next to you when Astarion lunges, hissing and fangs flashing. “No you stay the fuck away from her, this is your fault!” For a second his face falls with guilt, but Astarion is in no state for empathy, all blame now on the Druid in his mind.

Hands fight to grab hold of him, to get close enough to tear his thick throat out. A pair of strong arms wraps around his waist, pulling him back from his murderous goal. “Easy Fangs, she’ll be alright,” Karlach tries to reassure him.

He struggles against her iron hold, still flinging curses and furious words. “That’s not the point, this shouldn’t have happened. But no one wanted to listen to me, none of you selfish idiots care when you’re asking too much!”

That was it, they’d all turn on him now, especially without you aware enough to defend him. To his surprise, Karlach just holds him slightly tighter, and keeps whispering that it was going to be fine. Wyll comes over to lay a hand on his shoulder, face stoic. "Shadowheart has this.”

At least Halsin has stepped back, expression troubled. Good, let him suffer. A spell glows in Shadowheart’s hands, suturing back together your skin, and your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, for a moment before closing again. Karlach wisely releases him, leaving him free to hover over you and ward off Halsin as he takes a hesitant step toward you. He’d be damned if anyone else was carrying you, the lot of them were untrustworthy. Reverently, he leans down, taking you in his arms, and lifting you from the ground. Gods, you were so small, there was almost nothing to you. How did you seem so imposing most of the time?

Silently, the group makes it’s way back to camp, Astarion holding tightly to you the whole way. When they reach the cluster of tents, he goes straight to yours to lay you down gently in your blankets. Turning back to the rest of the party he snarls in their direction. "All of you better stay the hells out of this tent until she's properly healed," he snaps the tent flap shut and wishes he had a door to slam on their faces.

Sitting down next to you, he pulls your hand into his and tried to forget about the stinging in his eyes. "You're going to be alright Darling. You have to be."

For hours he sits there, hand holding yours, waiting, watching your chest rise and fall, the reassurance he hadn’t lost you. Losing you, he can’t even fathom it. His protector, companion, he'd even go so far as to say friend. Even if you didn't notice how he was always at your side whenever you stayed up to launder your clothes, or how you never took a turn to cook alone, or how he was always walking right next to you on the road.

You sigh in your sleep and he feels a tug in that place that sometimes wonders if you could be more than friends. Which was stupid, you hadn't even wanted sex with him. Besides, what you already gave him was more than he deserved considering what he had been planning after sleeping with you.

Finally, exhausted, he drifts into meditation, still holding onto you, until your sleep heavy voice pulls him out of it. "Astarion?"

His eyes are wide immediately and without a second thought, he throws himself into your arms, nuzzling into your neck. "You're awake." Then he starts crying like an idiot; ugly, undignified sobs against your skin. "I was worried," he tries to explain leaping on you and his ridiculous tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you." You put your arms around him, accepting him without question, like always.

"You silly, silly girl, you were the one that almost died. Don't apologize to me." He's trying desperately to stop bawling uncontrollably.

"I know, but I don't like to see you upset." Ever so lightly, he can feel your hand brushing through his hair.

"Why," he's managed to get himself somewhat under control, but doesn't move from where you've let him lay. "Why are you like this? Always giving, even when it's too much for you?"

You hesitate for a moment. "Because I care about you."

"You do," he asks, unwilling to let himself believe what he's heard.

"Well, I care about everyone," of course he should've realized, "but I care about you a very great deal, Astarion."

Astarion freezes, the words leaving warmth in that secret place inside that he's been trying to keep from himself and you. "I don't understand."

"I see you. I see how hard you try and how far you've come, and how much you try to do for me." There's a smile in your voice and impossibly he thinks it has something to do with him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" His hand searches yours out and your fingers interwine.

"I didn't think you were ready to hear it. But today it was almost too late to tell you." You've placed both of your hands over your chest and he can feel your heartbeat.

"I…I don't know how I feel." Inwardly, he quails, worried that will drive you. "But this is nice."

"It's alright Astarion, there's no rush to this." Impulsively, he leans up to leave a feather light kiss on your cheek, grateful for you in ways he can't understand.

[brabblesblog]

I hope you die screaming.

One-shot, angst/comfort, astarion/f!tav

After you refuse to help Astarion ascend, he leaves you with a venomous goodbye. Unfortunately the vampire has to come back to get his things.

The idea was to mix up the warding bond rings, Astarion’s final words if you refuse to help him, and Tav suffering and dying (not permanently!) in his absence.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

It had been a miserable few days of being alone in Baldur’s Gate, without most of his possessions, but Astarion was loathe to go back to the Elfsong. For one, he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d be there to do. To grab his things and go? A possibility, but not what he would rather do. To get on his knees and ask you to take him back? What he really wanted to do, but the chance of you forgiving him was slim, and he couldn’t face that rejection. So he stayed near the tavern, torn between showing himself and walking away yet again, when the ring on his finger pulsed with a strange magic and the ward protecting him dissipated from his body.

He had known you were still protecting him through the paired rings even as he stormed out of Cazador’s palace. The soft, pleasant feeling of the ward had not disappeared at all, and it had proven quite useful once or twice when he inadvertently offended someone enough for them to attempt to stab him. He didn’t get a lot of injuries - only minor cuts and scrapes - so as much as he felt guilty he figured you would be more than capable of handling it. In any case, should you want, you could just take off the rings, he reasoned.

So when the ward fell away right now, he huffed a bit and took the ring off. You must’ve finally remembered he had the other one, and there was no longer any point protecting him, after everything.

After what he said.

He entered the tavern and sat in a corner, waiting for your group to come back. He’d decided to come get his things. Without the ward’s protection, he would need his potions and armor to survive solo.

Soon enough, the door burst open and Gale came stumbling in. The gore and blood on his robes was normal enough, but his expression wasn’t. The man looked ashen and pale, and he immediately ran to the stairs. “Shadowheart! Come here. Now!”

Before the vampire could even put down the goblet he was holding, Halsin came in, something bundled in his arms. The air that wafted through hit Astarion, and he almost choked on it: blood. Your blood. A lot of it. He watched with wide eyes as Halsin carried the bloody bundle in his arms. It was a body, that much was obvious, but they had wrapped it in blankets. The fabric was stained everywhere, but it pooled the most where the chest would be. Halsin dipped his head and gently placed a kiss on the head of the body, and as he did so the blanket covering the face fell away. Astarion’s heart, if he still had one, would have stopped as he saw the face underneath the blankets. Yours.

He immediately stood up, heading towards Halsin. The larger elf saw him and let him approach, his expression one of sorrow.

“Halsin? What- is she…” he closes the distance. Your eyes are closed, as if you were sleeping. He knows it, knows he can’t hear your heartbeat and can’t see you breathe, but he still reaches out to cup your cheek. Cold, as cold as his hands were. He chokes back a scream that threatens to bubble from his throat.

Halsin moves, slowly climbing the stairs. “Come, Astarion. I shall explain.” As he made his way to your bed, he talked. “She hasn’t been well since your departure, but that is to be expected. We had a fight with the Steel Watch. She was a little too slow, too tired, and they won.”

Astarion growls. “You should all have protected her! Did you all cower when-“

“No.” Halsin rounds on him, eyes glinting with what was almost like anger. “We all have our injuries. We all tried our best. We weren’t the ones who left her.”

He laid you down on your bed, grabbing a wet cloth to clean your wounds. Astarion gripped the elf’s wrist. “Why aren’t you using a scroll to revive her?!”

He sighed. “You might not remember, Astarion, but the scrolls were all in your bag when you left.”

Shit. He had forgotten. He quickly rummaged through it, finding one. He saw Shadowheart approach and asked her for some healing potions as well. While everyone was preparing, Halsin kept cleaning your body up. Astarion scowled and grabbed his own wet towel, gently trying to clean around the hole in your chest. He winced at the amount of blood he saw as he tried to peel off the bloody shirt, then paused as he realized it was his camp shirt. Biting back the urge to scream, he kept working.

Shadowheart came back with several bottles of the potion, and they got to work. Halsin used the scroll, and as he did the vampire began pouring the potions down your throat. It didn’t take long for him to hear your heart start to beat again, and he exhaled roughly as he poured more bottles, just to be sure. He watched the color flood back into your face as you healed, unable to stop some tears from falling.

A hand gripped his shoulder and he turned to see Gale. The wizard sighed. “I’m surprised to see you here,” he said dryly. “Seems like you got your wish,” he said bitterly, gesturing to you.

Astarion bared his fangs and got up, ready to tear him from limb to limb. Halsin barely had enough time to stand between the two men. “There is no point to fighting each other. What’s done is done. And she’s doing better now.”

Gale sighed. He nodded at Halsin, then at Astarion. “I suppose the druid is right. You’ll still have some explaining to do, but it can wait.” He leaves to see Shadowheart to tend to his own injuries. After a moment, so does Halsin, squeezing Astarion’s hand in solidarity as he left.

Astarion continues his ministrations, weeping openly now that no one was here. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead. When you were clean, he puts you in your nightclothes, then wraps you up in his blankets. It doesn’t escape his notice that you’ve moved into his bed, his things still there, as though you were waiting for his return. He sleeps there that night, wraps himself around you, the sound of your soft breathing something he sorely missed.

You wake up a few hours later. Your head pounds, but when you open your eyes, it is blessedly dark. The last thing you remember was a steel watch monstrosity’s blade coming straight through you. You take a breath, nuzzling the blankets. They still smell like him, and you worry that soon the smell will fade. Then there would be nothing left of the man you loved. Well, other than his clothes-

Wait. His clothes. You run a hand down your chest, wincing at the movement. You realize you’re in your own camp clothes. It must’ve been torn in the fight, ruined by the gore. A soft cry escapes your lips. It felt all too much like losing him again. You whimper, helpless. Every movement was pain, but the most painful thing even now was your heart.

You suddenly realize you’re not alone on the bed. An arm sweeps across, wrapping securely around your waist. Someone nuzzles you, shushing your cries. In the darkness you can barely see, but the scent and the temperature of said arm hits you.

“As-Astarion?”

He swallows nervously. “Darling. I… I’m here.” He can see your face in the dark, eyes wide and afraid, and then a glimmer of hope as you realize who he is.

“You came back,” you manage to croak out. Your hand finds his, and he squeezes it tightly.

“I did. I-“ the happiness in your face stuns him. You should hate him. He doesn’t deserve to be welcomed back with such open arms.

“I was in the Elfsong to gather my things.” Before you could get the wrong idea and get hurt, he pushes on. “But I think I knew even as I walked in I’d be here to beg you to let me stay.”

“There’s no need to even ask, love.” Your hand moves to his hand, feeling for the ring. It isn’t there, and you feel a small pang of sadness. “You took it off.”

“Only today,” he says. “The wards fell. I thought you got rid of it, but your ring is still on your finger. I guess it just stopped working when you-“ he swallows past the lump in his thoat. “You- you know.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Noticing his distress, you move your other hand to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry you had to see this. I got clumsy. I was… I wasn’t at my best.” You look away, embarrassed to admit how much you missed him.

“Darling. No,” he turns your cheek to meet his gaze. “I left you. I broke your heart. All because I was too afraid to see the right path to take. And I wished… I said terrible things. I would take it back, all of it back. I regretted it as soon as I left the dungeons. But I didn’t think you’d let me back in. If I stayed, maybe you’d be alright. You’d be-“

His words are broken by soft lips that press against his. It was tender, and he couldn’t help but lean into it, kissing back carefully and gently. More tears fell from him, and you thumbed them away. Pulling back, you offer him a kind smile. “I forgave you as you left, love. I get it. It’s just that I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too.” With those words Astarion finally breaks down, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He didn’t deserve such tenderness, such love, after what he did. He vowed to do better with your heart, to give what you deserve as well. Not for any other reason than that he wanted to.

He meets your eyes, and he finally lets the words that had been sitting in his chest for ages out. “I love you. I have loved you for a while, darling, I just didn’t know how. I’m not good at this, obviously. I choose the wrong words, do the wrong things, and you still let me back in.”

You chuckle a bit, hands carding through his hair. “That’s because I love you too, idiot.”

You’ve told him that for some time now, accepting that he couldn’t say the same yet. But every time you say it his heart still soars. He captures your lips in yet another kiss.

“Forgive me?”

“Of course. You’ll have to put your ring back on, though. Maybe when I’m more healed, on second thought.”

You bite your lip, frowning.

“Oh. And I might have ruined your camp shirt. Could you fix it for me? Please?”

He puts on a show of pouting and sighing. “If I must. What would you do without me, hm?”

You roll your eyes and tug him close to you. All too quickly, you drift off, finally having a good night’s rest. He watches your face become peaceful, noting the huge bags under your eyes.

Astarion holds you through the night, vowing to never leave your side ever again.

[whaledenwtf]

Hello! This might be a weird request but what about Gale, Halsin and Astarion with a s/o who's super cute and friendly and overall just a gigantic sweetheart who also happens to canonically be horrifyingly powerful. Like potentially even more destructive than Gale and the orb. Enemies who know their lore turn and run just at the mention of them and their name strikes fear into many hearts but then the camera pans over and it's this short sweetheart of a person. Literally this post basically

Thank you so so much, I really love your writing! Also Happy Holidays sweetie! ☺️

I love this idea!! I made it headcannons so it wasn't too long to read! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Please ask more, I love writing things for people <3

REQUEST HERE

Headcannons: Astarion, Gale and Halsin with a super cute friendly S/O who's horrifyingly powerful

Warnings: None, this is just indulgent FLUFF, Minor Spoilers for Act 1 and for Gale and Astarion's Lore

Astarion

You were always sweet with Astarion, and only made him feel comfortable and safe.

After he told you he was a vampire, you accepted him despite everyone else telling you not to!

When you told him you could beat Cazador, he didn't believe you at first because of your sweet nature.

The first time he realized you were a legend was when you guys raided the Goblin Camp to save Halsin.

You initially told everyone your name was Tav, so nobody really knew who you were.

Every Goblin met their end with a swing of your weapon, gutting them before they blinked.

It scared your companions, honestly.

When you got to Minthara, you told her your name was (Y/N), and she backed away from you.

Astarion was confused until Karlach, Wyll and Lae'zel spoke of your legendary moniker.

Wyll may be known as the "Blade of Frontiers" but you were known as "The Walking Death" and that was thrilling for Astarion.

Every monster, creature and being met their demise when face to face with you.

Astarion was a slave for 200 years, only knowing the bare minimum from Cazador. But knowing you were on his side, and under his thumb, that thrilled him!

Once you apologized about lying to your companions, they all welcomed you in their arms, especially Astarion.

As he slowly falls in love with you, he realizes that he likes knowing his significant other is not only powerful and showed no mercy, but showed him life through another lens.

You show him that love doesn't make someone weak, but stronger.

You're powerful, and having you by his side makes him feel unstoppable as well.

He is very grateful for you. You will pull him from Cazador's clutches and stay with him through it.

Despite your sweet nature, you kicked ass. You saved everyone you could, which annoyed Astarion. But he loved you despite it, and always will.

After all, why would he run away from the first good thing to happen to him?

Gale

He was also confused about who you were right away. As a scholar he spent most of his time in books, rather than the battlefield.

Honestly, his mind was distracted between the Netherese Orb in his chest and Mystra.

When you pulled him out of the portal, he was struck by your kindness.

Then he was struck by your beauty when you fought valiantly for your companions.

He was excited seeing someone so powerful near him, and honestly fell harder.

After telling you what Mystra did, you told him you'd kill her.

He laughed you off, until he saw what you could do.

Now he's worried he won't have a goddess to worship.

Your battle prowess is astounding, and he can't help but admire you as you shout commands to your companions.

You always were gentle with Gale, soft touches and sweet nothings between you two.

He always finds it difficult to associate you with your title.

"The Slayer of Man and Beast" he's heard Lae'zel and Shadowheart call you.

You always chuckle and tell them "soon you'll have to add gods to that"

Now he's even more worried about his goddess

Over time, he considers you his goddess. After all, you've protected and respected him much more than Mystra ever had.

When he tells you about the Netherese Orb, you shrug him off.

"Nothing will keep me from you, not even a bomb."

Wow

When you two are alone, he caresses your muscles and your hands. He's in love with the idea of his significant other being this battle-worn individual set to protect him

Throughout your adventure, you remind him that you would protect him with your life.

"All for little old me?"

"Nobody will stop me from protecting you. No monster or goddess."

Man you really hate Mystra for hurting Gale so bad.

You dream about smiting her and protecting Gale in your arms.

While adventuring, you always keep Gale by your side. Everyone teases you for it until you shoot them a warning glance.

You're so so good to him. You take hits for him, heal him in battle, and heal him in the privacy of his tent.

"You're too good to me." He muttered once, eyes closed.

"You've never been treated right. It's my personal duty to make sure you never doubt yourself ever again." You replied, kissing his eyelids.

He just fell harder.

Halsin

He actually knew who you were before you saved him.

When you said your name, he bowed his head in respect.

"An honour to put a face to the name" He said to you.

You told him you loved how big and safe he was.

"You're the one who would keep me safe, little one."

He wasn't wrong. You've saved him multiple times throughout your adventure.

You were very sweet with Halsin, always leaning against his arms and closing your eyes when you sit together in camp.

He found it amusing, seeing such a feared individual be so innocent and kind with him.

In his 350 years of existence, he's never been so captivated by someone like you.

When he tasked you with eradicating the Goblin Camp, he enjoyed seeing the fear in Minthara's eyes when you said your name.

Despite being a druid, he knew that with life also came death. He accepted your past.

He found the juxtaposition of your personality endearing.

One day, he was in wildshape lounging around as a bear. You laid on him and spoke about different topics regarding your life.

In that same day, he saw you obliterate 20 goblins on your own.

He never thought he'd be aroused by someone killing goblins, but you did that.

You also knew all the spots to scratch when he was a bear??

Yes that's the spot. Right behind his ears.

He liked seeing the way you treat your companions with such kindness.

You showed respect and compassion to those who you find deserve it. You helped people find safety, and feel safe.

It was beautiful, the way you showed such love to those who were close to you.

He always compared you to the ocean.

"Why the ocean?" You asked him once.

"You can be calm, bring peace. But you are also wild, strong in the most beautiful way." He replied.

He enjoyed the way you blushed.

One time, you asked him to wildshape and you rode him into battle. Nothing is scarier than seeing (Y/N) "The Tempest" riding onto a bear.

Even your companions were scared

Ever since then, you always did it. It was like couple bonding, somehow??

Gods, he loves his little tempest

Hope this is as enjoyable for you guys to read as it was for me to write!!

[madwomansapologist]

i love everybody because i love you

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: It doesn't matter what their first impressions of you were, they certainly did not expect you to be so important in their lifes. And as the days passes, each one of your companions need to understand a simple fact: they love you. They all love you.

warnings: a sequel to that (you don't need to read if you don't want to). song "strawberry blond". companions (lae'zel, halsin) x druid!tav. background cast (alfira, mirkon, scratch, owlbear, shadowheart, astarion, wyll, mizora, karlach, minthara). lae'zel love language is pressing a dagger against your throat. i accidentaly made her somewhat a stalker?? there is a high chance minthara doesn't sound like her because i killed her like two onversations in. if you discover which animated character is my biggest inspiration for this tav i will give you a reward.

In a harsh world, people are supossed to shield themselfs from even the possibility of danger. Is the only rational response to the ambiguity of chaos. What those who crave to survive must learn, what those who deserve to survive must do.

You get stronger, so you won't feel pain. Because to feel pain is to remind your soul that one day your body will perish. To get stronger is to forget about the eventual end. Is to get protected from death itself, even if as just a concept.

When not even death can catch you, you're free. When you have nothing to love, nothing to care about, you are free. That's real strength. To be invulnerable. To have nothing to lose, no one close enough to ever hurt you.

Lae'zel lost the count on how many times you bleed. How many times you fell. Burned, drowned, exhausted in pain. Arrows crossed your chest, swords cut your legs, calloused hands stopped you from breathing.

You're somewhat good at hiding it. How much things can hurt you. When someone disrespect one of your companions, when people blame you for their fates, when you did everything you could and it wasn't enough. It hurts you in a different, worst way. She can see it on your face.

Maybe you could've earned a good end, if the world worked in a different way. A peaceful life, one fit for those who don't aspire greatness. But Lae'zel knew it was only a matter of time until the tadpole took control. She felt it on herself. Saw it on you.

No one would save her, no one would save any of you, but perhaps Lae'zel could. It was an merciful act. To end you first. You failed as a leader, but you tried. Then she'll go to the others, knowing she's brave enough to kill herself after.

She thought you had surrendered yourself to her. That you had come to the same conclusion. A wise druid, after all. Then Lae'zel felt. The cold thread against the base of her neck. A dagger she didn't saw coming.

"Step back," you ordered, voice unaffected. Lae'zel never heard you like that before. She had a dagger against your throat, but you spoke as if you rule the entire world.

"Chk, you think that tiny blade of yours will stop me from free..."

"What I think doesn't matter, but what I know does." Your eyes burned her skin. "You're stronger, I'm faster. I propose you a bet. If you kill me, go on with your plan. If I kill you, that's it. I won't kill them. I won't kill myself. Even if I can, even if I must. You would've died for nothing, forever ignorant if it was the right thing to do."

Lae'zel saw you barefoot at the Emerald Grove, applauding Alfira as she sang. Crossing the river by jumping from stone to stone, talking to Mirkon as if he wasn't a kid but a dear friend. How many times did Lae'zel found a bed shaped of you on the grass right next to where Scratch and Owlbear slept?

A sacreed deer, whose even blood is ever so sweet, howled like an wolf.

Would you turn into a mindflayer out of... stubbornness? Would you let the rest of your beloved party turn into something utterly disgusting, putting in danger all those people you swore to protect, just to prove a point?

Maybe you would. Maybe you wouldn't.

No one died that night.

You intrigued Lae'zel. Before you were her supposedly defenseless prey, and now you are the object of her curiosity. Lae'zel didn't understand you. And she craved to.

So she kept a close eye on you.

You bleed. All the fucking time. You bleed, and you wept. But everytime someone crushed you down, you rose up. For every tear that fall from your eyes, you made sure to smile. You survive, and you keep on doing it.

Strength and weakness merged in the warrior's mind. She knew what strength is, she can smell weakness from afar. Lae'zel was taught everything she was supossed to know.

But you were never the one to fit in old impervious notions.

Lae'zel saw you end a hyena's suffering without flinching, and you trying to hold on the wind when you were about to fall. She heard you helping a bird decorate its nest, and the breaking of a skull of someone brave enough to maim Shadowheart when she was near you.

You yelled at Astarion as he tried to stop you from helping gnomes. Helped Wyll with herbs for his pain after Mizora's trick. Helped Gale with dinner, putting a smile to the usually frowed wizard's face. Gave Karlach her first hug in years.

She saw your every movement. Lae'zel heard you laughing, saw you dancing, watched as you helped your new friends. Sometimes it felt as if you made white lines so she could follow you. So Lae'zel could see you being good, nice, decent. Being you in a way that showed her that no, you would've never let your companions turn into mindflayers. You were bluffing, and she fell for it.

At some point, it started to ache. Anytime you laugh at some tiefling's story, something inside Lae'zel burned. At night, she could picture your smile on her eyelids. When you call her name during battle, yelling instructions that somewhat always end in victory. When you look at her.

She can still see that fire. That same flame that stopped her from killing you right then and there. But diluted, controlled. And still, just as able of burning her entire soul. You have a fire contained within your gaze, and Lae'zel doesn't mind getting burned.

Maybe you're not that weak. And maybe she's not that strong.

She's not watching you anymore. Observing your every move so she can understand your mind. Not a prey, not a walking question mark. Lae'zel is purelly admiring.

For some, you came as a tempest. Slowly, without announce your intentions, your way of being embraced them.

A few flinched, scared of what that meant about them. That by admitting you're good despite it all means they could be good too. Some welcomed it, scared of what that meant about the world. If you're good despite everything that happened, then others could be too. Others chose not to.

But you stroke Halsin as a thunderstorm, just as quickly and fiercly. In such a dark time, you were a lighthouse. A shining light that blind at first, but embraces and comforts.

The grove was in danger, his life could end at any given moment, a goblin camp separated him from the world he worked so hard to protect. But your party helped him, and it gave Halsin the right amount of hope.

You asked him to stay behind, and he did so. Halsin wouldn't be able to control himself, and you didn't need all that attention. He was hopeful, not an idiot. But when Halsin heard screams from the room beside... Knowing that Minthara was there, Halsin couldn't help himself.

A wizard focused on the goblins. As he held them in place, a cleric made sure to end them. But at the other side of the room, the only other druid he saw in weeks had a dagger deep on her chest.

Minthara had you on your knees, her nails digging on the skin of your chin. A burning tiefling didn't knew a way to react that wouldn't end within that same blade slicing your throat. She waited for an order, an instruction of any kind, and Minthara realized that you were leading the rebels.

"Is that your leader?" Minthara looked at the tiefling. Her eyes were numb, bored even, but her grin was sharp. She forced to blade deeper. "A weak druid, barely able of helding a sword? Are you that desperate?"

You should've cried. You should've beg for mercy. You should've do anything, instead of laughing. Minthara glared at you, sure that you were reduced to a crazy, desperate animal. But when you bit her hand, blood staining your chin, you were more of a beast.

Minthara stumbled, and you pulled the blade she left on your shoulder. Blood ran down your side, but that didn't stopped you from rising up. Halsin don't think anything would've.

"Maybe you're right," you hissed. With her dagger on your left hand, you took your sword from the ground. "I'm not a fighter. I wasn't educate to control the Weave. I can't heal a thing. When I can't do something, I find someone that can. Without their help, I would be dead by now."

Halsin came here to act. To help, protect, kill. But all he could do, just like everyone else in that room, was to watch you. To look at your beaming smile, to see the blood on your teath, not even trying not to get blind by it.

"Why would anyone follow someone that professes to be so weak?" She looked at the wizard, a dead goblin at his feet, her brain thinking of all the ways she could defeat your party. "What can you do that give you the right to rule them?"

Your smile seemed to grow wider. "I can beat the shit out of you."

And beat the shit out of Minthara you did.

With a first impression like that, ain't no mistery why Halsin couldn't do anything but to stay with your party. But to go on with you, deafeting the Shadowcurse and exploring Baldur's Gate. But to see you shine, feel your warmth, and let it pull a string on his heart.

At the end, it didn't matter how it started. It didn't matter how much they fought the thought back. If they lied to themselfs, made you a villain on their minds, welcomed you with open arms.

You have their hearts. Simply as it can be. You have their hearts.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR'S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[littlejuicebox]

ahhhhhh the first installment of Midnight Chimes is so good! I can’t wait for more! I also really like the AstarionxWren series, I loved jealous Astarion in Chapter 10! Would you be willing to write another small piece about him being jealous? Thank you!

Hi Anon! Thank you. I love some jealous, angsty Astarion as much as the next person! Here you go! <3

Warnings/Tags: In-game spoilers, fluff/angst, jealous partner, possessive partner (if you squint)

Word count: 1.4 K

-----

The group had only a few days left in the Mountain Pass region before they ventured into the dreaded Shadowlands. Halsin insisted on hoarding at least a quarter cord of wood for the journey; he said he would even pull the entire thing himself, in his bear form, if he had to.

The wood elf warned the others that the journey into the Shadowlands would be treacherous, and nary a living thing would be found. As such, he'd been more than adamant they all gather as many supplies as they could find and hold in order to prepare for the unknown atrocities ahead.

No one could deny Halsin was a magnificent specimen. Everyone in the camp had been distracted when the druid removed his shirt, revealing beautiful beads of sweat glistening on his remarkably chiseled chest. The late afternoon sun was beating down his barren back as he chopped relentlessly at a thick tree trunk, hashing it with sheer force and unbreakable will. Earlier, the spellcasters had offered to help the druid with the project, but he'd quickly brushed them off with an explanation that the repetitive manual labor cleared his mind.

The mountain of a man paused to drink water from his canteen and then lifted the bottle over his head. The cool liquid spilled through his locks before flowing in thin rivets down his face, following the force of gravity and ultimately dribbling down his barren torso. Astarion himself had been sitting with his mouth agape, watching the salacious scene. Honestly, it was a nearly impossible vision to ignore.

But then the silver-haired elf became absolutely engrossed in the event, unable to look away as you practically sprinted over to Halsin with a fresh canteen of water and a few damp cloths. You were fussing over the druid as he took a brief respite from his self-assigned chore. Astarion rolled his eyes in exasperation when he heard you lament the fact that it was so hot and insist you could help the druid chop wood.

Oh, please. He was certain you never lifted an axe in your life.

But, of course, Halsin was humoring your antics and absolutely devouring your attention. The druid took a few more sips of water, and then you two fell into what must have been a very pleasant conversation, judging by the flush of your cheeks and the giant grin on your face.

Astarion felt a pang in his chest as your laughter rang across the camp; coquettish giggles that had been previously reserved solely for him. Was he actually jealous?

No, impossible, he couldn’t be! The rogue could have bed anyone in the camp, Halsin included, if he so wished. You had simply been a matter of convenience. So what if you two spent nearly every night wrapped in one another's arms, it was merely transactional!

Wasn’t it?

“Your move, Astarion.” Wyll prompts with a small, mischievous chuckle.

“Huh?” The vampire responds dazedly, jerking his head back to the human man.

Oh, right, they were still playing chess.

Astarion glances at the pieces on the board, but he’s preoccupied by visions of you and Halsin his peripherals. The rogue picks up his remaining knight and moves it to E4. Wyll laughs in lofty delight and pushes his bishop forward, claiming Astarion's knight with ease.

The vampire groans in dismay before examining the tiny wooden pieces again. He and Wyll had made a bet: the loser had to leave camp and forage for a basket full of wild crops before returning for the night.

Astarion abhorred the thought of performing such a menial task, and he had been winning mere moments ago, before your little rendezvous with Halsin distracted him. He sighs and brings his hand to rest on the side of his face, trying to focus on the game, but your ridiculous laughter is ringing in his ears. Finally, the elf picks up his queen and moves it a few spaces to the left.

When he's completed his move, Astarion’s eyes wander over to you once more. Halsin is leaning into you with his muscular arms wrapped around your torso, broad chest flush against your back. He’s showing you how to properly swing the axe, the two of you moving in unison.

“Oh, come on!” Astarion shouts, no longer paying attention to the chess game at all. His fists tense into tight balls upon his lap; you had to know what you were doing.

Wyll is laughing. He's just won the game and misinterprets the vampire's exclamation as a response to the loss. "Hah! You have to be more careful with your queen, Astarion! Or else she'll be stolen away by the better player."

The pale elf snaps his eyes back to Wyll and then down to the board. Only then does he realize that he's lost the game, perhaps in more ways than one. Astarion frowns in utmost displeasure; the parallels of the warlock's statement are not lost on him.

Wyll is cackling as he hands the basket to the pale elf. Astarion growls and grabs the woven piece of wicker; as he walks out of camp, he is perturbed to see you still chopping wood with everyone's favorite druid.

Over an hour later, the vampire returns to camp with a basket full of foraged food, as agreed upon. He drops the basket in Wyll's lap with a huff and then stalks off to his tent without a word. When you pop by a couple of minutes later, Astarion is absolutely brooding, and pretending to occupy himself with a book he hasn't read a word of.

"Can I help you? I'm quite busy." The pale elf grumbles, barely lifting his eyes from the page to acknowledge you.

You don't take the hint and let yourself into the rogue's tent with a contented little smile. You move to sit next to your lover, and he dramatically leans away from you, turning his head to avoid your gaze entirely.

"Aw, come now, Astarion... are you still upset that you lost that bet against Wyll?" You murmur, cocking your head slightly, "He warned you that he was quite good!"

"I wouldn't have lost if someone hadn't distracted me." Astarion snarls, snapping the book shut and scowling at you, white eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"Distracted you? I wasn't anywhere near you!" You respond in surprise, eyes widening at the elf, "How can you blame me for losing, it's not my fault you--"

"You distracted me because you were practically drooling all over the druid!" The vampire hisses, no longer able to keep the boiling bits of frustration from spilling out of his mouth as he points the book at you in accusation.

"Are..." You pause, eyebrow raising slightly, copying the habitual expression of practiced cockiness normally displayed by your companion, "Are you jealous, Astarion?"

"Of the druid? Hah!" The vampire retorts, feigning disgust with a crinkled nose, though he realizes it's not too convincing, "Hardly, darling."

"Hmm... shame." You drawl, eyes narrowing slightly. You sigh and begin to shift, as if you're about to exit his tent, “For a moment I was beginning to think you actually cared."

"And where do you think you're going?" Astarion asks as you lift the flap of his tent.

Since entering the Mountain Pass, you two had shared a tent almost every night. Often, it was for sex, which he found himself expecting in a confusing state of yearning and apprehension. But sometimes it was simply for cuddles and conversation, and perhaps a little snack on his part. He found that he'd grown quite fond of your frequent interactions and the feeling of your warm body curled up next to him as you finally drifted off to sleep.

"To my own tent," You murmur, eyeing the vampire with a devious smirk, "Come and find me when you're ready to admit that you were jealous."

And then you're gone, and Astarion is left seething, watching as you saunter away.

Less than a half hour later, the vampire is at the entrance of your tent, his threadbare blanket draped around his arm. You lift your gaze from the dagger you'd been sharpening and eye him with a self-satisfied smile. You sheath the blade and bring your arms across your chest, waiting expectantly for the rogue's confession.

The pale elf groans in frustration, rolling his eyes up at the heavens, "Are you really going to make me say it?"

"Oh, absolutely!" You respond near-instantaneously, "No entry until admission is paid."

Astarion sighs and shifts uncomfortably on his feet, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I guess..." He starts, and then his tone drops into a barely audible whisper, "I guess I was a bit jealous."

"I'm sorry? I couldn't hear you. You'll have to speak louder, darling, as I don't have vampiric hearing." You say with a teasing, overly saccharine smile, "Could you please repeat that?"

"I was jealous!" He hisses, now thoroughly flustered by your mockery and pulling anxiously at his own ear, "There! Are you happy?"

This time you beam, and the smile is sweet and genuine. He feels the knot that was growing in his chest relax as your gaze softens. You scoot yourself over in your tent and chuckle slightly, patting the spot next to you. "Yes. Very happy. Now get in here, you sweet idiot."

Astarion enters the tent, immediately taking his place by your side. A smooth, pale arm wraps around your torso, and he presses a soft kiss to your temple before dropping his head and whispering into your ear, “The next time you're looking for wood, my sweet, it would be my pleasure to provide you with some. You needn't look elsewhere; I'm sure you'll find that the wood I can provide you is hard and ready to fill you with warmth every single time."

His hot breath tickles your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. You feel your face grow flushed at his overt innuendo, and the vampire chuckles at the splashes of red spreading across your neck and cheeks. He brings his tongue to run along your ear lobe, which rips a small, delightful gasp from you.

"Astarion!" You squeal, pressing a hand to the elf’s chest and moving away slightly in a half-hearted attempt to avoid the vampire's advances. Your tent is still wide open, and you don’t particularly relish the idea of everyone in camp witnessing your private life, no matter how nice it feels.

"That better be the only name I ever hear cried from your lips.” The rogue murmurs before moving forward and gently nipping at your lobe, grazing it between fanged teeth. He smirks and then hums contentedly before purring into your ear once more, “Now, be a little lamb and close the tent, won’t you? I believe we have some serious making up to do.”

[baldurslesbians]

Bg3 characters as prompts

A/n: sorry if these are out of character I tried my best, bold for dialogue - bold + italics for actions

Characters: Astarion, Lae’zel, halsin, gale

Warnings: None

Astarion Ancunin:

★“So… Do you actually like me—” “We have been together for seven years. We’re getting married next year. What the hell do you think?”

★ person a and b are looking at each other when there's that one person that annoys both of them, and then laughing. it's that SHARED LOOK and SHARED CONNECTION that makes person a quickly turn away.

★ one night stand between person a and person b, whom were both drunk at the time. person b is in the middle of regretting everything and feeling like SHIT and gently admiring a the morning after because they're aware that nothing will be the same after this and this might even be the last time they will talk.

★ Holding and cradling their face to study it, perhaps noticing something new. Something else to love.

Lae’zel:

★"you're adorable" "what?" "nothing."

★ person b is telling themselves not to get close to person a. but once they see person a right in front of them, they fold immediately. person b listens to any word person a says, regardless of "needing to avoid them." person a has person b enamoured and doesn't even know it.

★“Life would suck complete testicles if it weren’t for you.” “Oh love, I really wish you weren’t always so vulgar when expressing your affections.”

★“you’re a dumbass, please know that.”

★“stop making me love you, idiot”

Halsin Silverbough:

★“to the stars and back, love.”

★“never forget what i said, okay?”

★“i never ever regretted knowing you.”

★“Tell me how you fell in love with me.” “…I literally told you that again yesterday—” “I don’t care, I wanna hear it again. Plus, I like hearing you speak.”

★ picking a leaf/flower petal out of their hair, or brushing dirt off of their face

★ Tracing patterns on your arm or your back when they gaze silently at your peaceful sleeping face(because they woke up earlier than you)

Gale Dekarios:

★ "you could stop staring now." "oh no, absolutely not."

★ “ah, so you’re like my book boyfriend now, huh?” “what on earth is a book boyfriend?”

★ patiently listening to all of your problems. like actually listening.

★ Person A and person B dancing with eachother "i'm not the best at this." "you've stepped on my foot at least ten times, trust me, i know."

★“You're incorrigible.” “I prefer 'charmingly rebellious.” “Fine.” “So, you admit I'm charming?” “Don't push your luck.”

★“You complete me in ways I cannot explain”

[leeannsparksauthor]

How Could I Hurt You?

*SPOILERS FOR DARK URGE PLAY THROUGH*

This one right here is for all the people who wanted a little more angst with their dark urge character. Personally I loved the story for the dark urge but I wish there was more of a reaction from companions at the fact that you died! So here's a little angsty treat for my fellow gamers who've put in over 300 hours into this game.

“I have a gift for you child. You will use it to lacerate this world.” No, the only word that echoed in your mind. You will not accept any gift from your so-called god. There is good in this world and your free mind knows this now. It is evident in the companions you have picked up along this journey. In the love of a pale elf, the kindness of an archdruid and the determination of tieflings. You have felt it in every gentle hug, tender kiss and smile that did not come from the release of death. 

“No, no, for once I’m free! I have seen life, I’ve seen beauty! I have loved, I have been loved…and I am never giving that back!” Fuck your god, fuck destiny, fuck everything that came before. The autonomy of your body was suddenly stripped away as you were raised into the air by invisible claws. Back breaking under the force answered only by cruel laughter.

“Can we kill this little freak!” The vampire spawn was ready to rush forward and imbed his knife into the puppet pulling the strings. You knew that he would be killed if he so much as put a kink in the plans of the cruel god. 

“Karlach…keep him away!”

Your father laughed at the weakness you showed so openly. “What a disappointing spawn you’ve become, my most promising, possessed by pathetic emotions. I remember when the very act of murder reflected in your gaze, oh the terror you inspired, the horror.”

The words Astarion spoke to his former master echoed within your mind, giving you courage, determination. “I am so much more than what you made me.”

“You are nothing without me, child. What I have given freely and what you have rejected most unknowingly I will take back. I will give you back to the rotting earth you hold so dearly, nothing but a dead fool, food for the worms. Even below the ground you will still feel the blood I rain upon this world, the fire that will consume the forests you called home. Your blood is mine and I will see it returned.”

You could feel the very blood he spoke of fall from your eyes like scarlett tears, your breath trapped inside your lungs begging to escape. The taste of copper fills your mouth as it dribbles down your chin. You’ve never felt so cold before, even in the harshest of winters. Bones seemed to snap and then as if clutched in a grasp of fury your heart shattered within your chest a silent scream caught in your throat. It was instant death but somehow still prolonged beyond the mortal plane.

There was no more chanting within the Bhall temple, no foreign word. Yet the scent of blood still lingered, the screams of your name like an echo being absorbed into the walls. 

You watched events unfold outside of your body and wondered if this is what all of your victims experienced after their death. Or if this torture was designed just for you by the lord of murder himself. 

Astarion had rushed over as soon as your body fell to the cold stone below. His hands cradling your body with a fierce protectiveness you had never seen before. His hands searched for a pulse, something, any sign of life you would give him. “Karlach give me a bloody scroll!”

“Astarion it won’t work…” she was right, it won’t. She had seen first hand instant death at the hands of devils, like a thread cut with a pair of scissors. 

“You don’t fucking know that, we have to try! Halsin do something you useless druid! Darling, look at me, please, please. I promised, I promised it wouldn’t have you my love, please…” Oh what you would give to embrace him, comfort him.

Light illuminated the blood that stained your face, warmth from Halsin’s palm, the warmth of nature itself. It would do nothing for you now. “Oak Father, hear me, aid me, protect this child of Silvanus.” The light flickered, a soft breeze tussling the hair surrounding your body. You had never seen such sadness on Halsin’s face, not even when his grove was threatened or when all hope had seemed lost in the darkness of the shadow curse. His hand engulfed the one that rested limply by your body, “forgive me my heart.” He brought the hand to his lips, warmth against deadly cold skin. 

“Your god is as useless as the rest of them! Potions, Karlach in my bag, hurry please…” his words were cut short as the large tiefling cradled the back of your head. Her forehead came to rest against yours, horns knocking against the ones atop your head. Soft lips brushed across the place where lines and creases would form the most.

“Rest easy Soldier…I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Get away! Fuck you, fuck all of you, we have to help them, there must be something…” as if a candle had been extinguished so did his fight. “No, no…oh darling…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry my love, my light. Forgive me, please come back, I promise I’ll keep you safe please come back, don’t leave me, please.” They would tell stories about you, the hero who sacrificed everything to save Baulders Gate. Would they tell of the love you got to experience before it all ended? Would they speak of the friends you made? The adventures you had? 

Would they speak of the man who emerged from his crypt only to enter a temple and offer a choice?

The hardest choice you would ever have to make. Only it’s not a difficult one is it? After all it’s only one more battle until the rest of your life. Yours now, no one else's. You could close your eyes forever, spare yourself the view, the consequences. 

When the breath was returned to your lungs and the shattered pieces of your heart put back together one by one your body lurched forward with the first sight of your new life. 

Cool lips pressed against yours, fangs almost puncturing skin with the ferocity of a lover who held death in his arms. Words whispered against your mouth, “don’t you ever fucking do that to me again.”

A small, breathless laugh, “how could I leave my little star behind?” How could you leave this behind?

[rainydaymiscellaneous]

“Little Light” (Astarion x Fem reader)

Note: sorry for me being gone, I now have two jobs and I also kind of fell down the BG3 rabbit hole. So. Yeaaahhh. Don’t worry you guys, I am still writing for Into the Fire I just am trying to work on the other chapters so it’s actually complete and I don’t have to worry about it being incomplete.

But in the mean time if you have any astarion related requests feel free to send them bishes in.

It was a dark night when Tav came into camp. A night no one expected to remember but gods, it would forever be seared into Astarion’s mind. It was different from the average night of his work. You see, he brought back a girl. Not unusual for the hero after saving the grove but it was unusual this night.

Bloodshed seemed to naturally follow the ragtag group of chaotic heroes. It was something they all got used to after a while, typically resulting in them washing their armor in a river trying to get the crimson stains out and the metallic smell to leave.

Tav said he was going to a tavern, which no one batted an eye at. Hells, Karlach joined him so he’d have a drinking buddy. But now they had come back with an unconscious woman in Karlach’s arms.

She was bleeding, that alone alerted Astarion to her presence from the mouth watering smell. He could control the urges, he never let them go out of control since he escaped the clutches of Cazador. Around blood, though, Astarion would become aware of his teeth. Like his senses would overwhelm him. Typically this would result in his little looks to Tav to quietly let him go off and find a willing victim, which he’d give a nod to so he could subtly slip away.

This night was different. Tav seemed more panicked than usual. He was asking Karlach to be careful. He kept trying to keep the girl’s eyes open. Karlach kept shooting Astarion a panicked “help” look. He walked over confused as Karlach laid her down.

And there was you. A girl who had been stabbed that he had never seen before. But why did Tav care? There was a difference between him worrying for random strangers versus this girl. There was a clear familiarity between the two but considering the tense situation, Astarion wasn’t asking right now.

“Y/n, keep your eyes open.” Tav demanded.

“I-I’m trying..” he heard you say quietly. Your eyelids felt like lead.

“Is magic not working?” Astarion asked.

“His powers are shot from the battle earlier!” Karlach says. You lazily looked at the unfamiliar voice.

“Red… eyes…” You muttered.

“Halsin! Make yourself useful!” Astarion yelled. You saw the fangs when he yelled. Most people when bleeding out would be freaked the fuck out by a vampire lingering so close. But you felt weirdly safer with him being the one to help.

Halsin rushed over, muttering incantations. A blue glow engulfed your vision and you finally succumbed to the urge to sleep. Halsin let out a small breath of relief.

“The girl will be fine. She needs to rest, regain her energy.” He says. Tav looked relieved by this.

Finally, Astarion felt it appropriate for some questions.

“Tav, who is this?” He asked. Tav sighed, looking down at your resting face.

“My sister. Y/n. She wanted to travel with us, which I said yes to. But then we were ambushed and Y/n took a stab meant for me.” He said. He sounded guilt ridden. Like he wished it was himself lying there instead of you.

Tav rarely mentioned his family. When he did, the only positive light seemed to be about you, his sister. Though in his tales of his childhood, he never mentioned a name. It was always “my little sister” or “my sister” instead of “Y/n”.

Astarion saw the emergency end, him standing up fully. “I need to feed.” He said before dismissing himself.

Hours passed, he finally returned to camp and you were fully awake. You were sipping on tea, Karlach wrapping a blanket around your body. “Thank you, Karlach.” You said softly. Your voice was light. Like a breeze on a summers day in a meadow.

“So you’re the sister?” Astarion asked, sauntering over in his usual manner. You gave a warm smile to him, something he hadn’t seen from anyone.

“I suppose that is me.” You nodded. Something was different about you.

“And you’re fine? Traveling with a vampire?” Astarion asked.

“Should I not be?” You asked.

“Most would be off put by it.” Astarion said. You simply shrugged, sipping your tea before saying

“I’m not most, I suppose.”

He rose a brow at this. He noticed the new staff, off to the side. “You’re a wizard?” He asked.

“Cleric.” You said. He chuckled.

“Tav’s sister is a cleric?” He asked.

“Indeed.” You nodded.

“I suppose that must mean you’re devoted to a deity.” Astarion said.

“Eilistraee.” You answered.

“Oh gods, you’re not like Halsin are you? Constantly speaking about the ‘joys of nature’s gifts’” he asks. You let out a snort at his tone before laughing.

“No! No. Though I understand him, I don’t believe us to be the same. I don’t operate on the Oakfather, that would be Silvanus. I have less strict rules on good and evil compared to followers of the oak father.” You shrugged.

“Ah. So if I pickpocketed an evil man, you’d allow it?” He asked.

“Of course, if he was truly evil. Think of it as balancing the scales. With unconventional revenge.” You shrugged making him chuckle.

“I think I’ll enjoy having you around.” He said with a smile. You smiled back.

“You are different.” A voice said. Astarion jolted, looking behind him to see Withers, the confusing undead creature that hung around camp.

“You must be Withers.” You said not turning around.

“Indeed. You see things others cannot.” He said. You nodded. “Pasts. Present. Futures. All you can peer into. Yet you do not bear the tadpole as your brother does.” Astarion looked over at you.

“I’ve always been able to. Hear things others can’t. See things, others can’t.” You said.

“You’re a seer?” Astarion asked. You nodded.

“Unfortunately.” You said.

“Oh? What do you see in our futures? Do we get this wretched thing away from us?” He asked, pointing to his head. You chuckled.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. I must touch the person to see.” You said.

“Ah. Well consider me an experiment.” He said. You paused, setting down your cup.

“Are you comfortable with this? I must see everything before being able to see the future. You’d be sharing your past.” You warned. He hesitated but found himself nodded. Everyone in camp already knew the extent of Cazador. One more person didn’t make a difference, right?

You held out your hands, him slowly putting his over yours. You closed your eyes inhaling. As if nature itself was speaking, there was a breeze, petals of pear blossoms flowing in it. The sweet smell filled his nose as he slowly relaxed.

“You suffered. Made a choice that landed an attack from angry people. You made a deal with a vampire… you were his… Six others fell victim as well. His reign was a terror. You would feed from whatever you could. You were frightened. Scared that that was what your immorality would amount to.” You muttered. Your grip on his hands grew stronger as Astarion noticed your expression with your closed eyes.

Empathy. Sadness. Sadness for his experiences.

“You were captured while looking for prey by mindflayers. You don’t remember much from it but you were almost… grateful. Something would finally drag you out from his clutches. The tadpole, it did something. Severed that urge to follow his command. To obey his will. To your surprise you find a friend in my brother.” You spoke softly.

Your fingers slid into his, him seeing a light yellow glow from your hands. “Your future is…” you jolted opening your eyes, the light of your abilities dying. Your face flooded with a blush staring at the vampire shocked.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned by the almost alarmed look in your eyes.

“Y-yes I… Erm. Aha. Took a lot out of me. Never did a reading on a 200 year old vampire.” You chuckled nervously. “I should go! Tav wanted me to help him with something!” You said getting up and almost sprinting away.

Withers cocked his head looking over. “She has seen something in you.” He says. Astarion seemed confused by the statement. Why lie to him about what you saw..?

This was a question that Astarion wanted to ask, but held off on it. But you seemed to wiggle your way into his heart over the course of a few weeks of traveling. He loved how chaotic you were, cracking jokes about imminent death and “if Tav dies, I call dibs on his sword.”

Shadowheart of course was disturbed by your odd nature but put up with it, due to your relation with Tav. You had made Astarion smile, laugh a few times as well. All in all, you seemed to be a light in darkness. Which was quickly turning his perspective ironic once they had all made their way into the shadowy parts of the forest, touched by a curse.

You seemed deeply drained as you walked, despite holding a torch. Everyone else seemed fine but you seemed so tired. You were walking when you stumbled, Astarion catching you. He passed his torch off to Karlach.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” Astarion asked.

“The nature here. It-It hurts. Like a f-fever that won’t die out.” You winced.

“Gods… Y/n, the harper is taking us somewhere safe, do you think you’re able to make it?” Tav asked clearly concerned.

“It’s- It’s getting harder to walk.” You said, panting from trying to fight off the dark energies of the forest. Astarion lifted you onto his back.

“I’ve got you, little light. Don’t worry.” He assured. That little nickname. That sweet tone. You knew when the cocky bastard was joking. But that tone had been more sincere than anything anyone in the group had heard.

They followed the Harper into the darkness, torches in hand as they eventually reached the last light inn. You held onto Astarion, feeling the cold skin of the undead man. You put your forehead on his back, him feeling the warmth of your body. It was too warm for this to be normal. Whatever plagued the forest was making you sick.

“Stop! Who are you?” A woman halted as they crossed the bridge.

“My name is Tav- look, my sister is sick, something is-is wrong she needs help!” Tav said stepping forward. The woman drew her sword.

“Jaheira! They saved my life, they’re not the enemy.” The harper guide said. She hesitated.

“Is this true?” She asked. She heard the coughing of you, walking closer and seeing your newly feverish state. She noticed the symbol on your arm.

“Cleric…? Your sister is a Cleric?” She asked.

“Yes! Please, we don’t mean harm, we need help!” Tav practically begged.

“…Speak to Isobel upstairs in the Inn. She can help you.” She said. Tav nodded, motioning for Astarion to go. Astarion practically sprinted up the stairs to the room, finding the woman.

Isobel turned around. “who is this?” She asked.

“She’s my friend, please- something is wrong.” He said. She paused noticing the vampiric appearance. Why did a presumably blood thirsty monster care?

“Lay her down, I will see what I can do.” She said motioning to a bed. Astarion obeyed, watching as Isobel hovered her hands over your body as you writhed in your feverish state.

He felt nervous, watching you slowly relax. “She will be fine. As long as she stays here.” Isobel said. “She will be protected by the magic in the field but if she leaves it while the curse still stands, it will prove lethal within days.” She said.

Tav had found his way into the room, looking at you. “…We could use Shadowheart until we fix this.” He said, watching you slowly fall asleep.

“I want to stay.” Astarion said. Karlach looked over.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“You can use whoever, hell use Withers but I am not moving.” Astarion said.

“Alright. Alright I hear you. I feel safer with someone staying with her anyway.” Tav said.

So there he sat by you for days. The goal was for you to fight off the fever so your body could adjust to the corruption. They moved you downstairs next to a man who was constantly singing in his unconscious state. Honestly made Astarion debate on shoving a blade through the man’s neck but thankfully he shut up after Halsin managed wake the bastard up with a lute.

Tav was preparing for a battle on the moonrise towers, finally gaining a lantern (that swore vengeance on him for not releasing the pixie stuck inside it)

You slept soundly in bed. Astarion would rarely move. All came to ahead when he heard a very loud thud and screaming “TO ARMS” from Jaheira.

Astarion stood up, unsure on if he should see what the hell was going on but there stood a winged creature in the doorway. It seemed set on killing anything in its path. Astarion drew his blades, staring at the thing before him.

It pounced like a cat to a mouse, Astarion stabbing it repeatedly. He kept trying to get it to possibly run off at least but it kept scratching, screaming that awful screeching noise. He struck again, when the creature managed to knock him down pouncing on him and drawing its claws out ready to tear out his heart.

That’s when a blade stabbed through its head, killing it instantly. He looked up, seeing you with his dagger that was knocked out of his hand when it pounced. You stood there, shaking as you shoved the creature’s corpse off of Astarion and he took your hand, standing up.

“When did you wake up?” He asked.

“When you started fighting that thing.” You said panting. “Are you okay-“ he gently wiped the blood off of your cheek, ignoring your concerned tone “I-I saw the thing on top of you and I-I thought you were-“

He cupped your cheeks. “I am fine, Little Light.” He said softly. You looked in his eyes, dropping the blade. “You’re shaking.” He noticed.

“My legs haven’t left the bed in days…” you said softly.

“Mm.” He nodded. You couldn’t move. You found yourself enraptured in those crimson eyes. He kissed your forehead and hugged you. “I’m alright. I promise.” He assured. You slowly hugged him back, surprised by the man’s manner. He hadn’t been affectionate before. What changed?

You let out a relieved breath, feeling his hand travel into your hair, gently moving his fingers as if to soothe you. He kept whispering reassurances. “I’m alright, I promise” or “We’re safe. It’s okay.”

You had never felt this amount of safety, especially since the entire separation from your brother and the dark forest. But here you were. Safe in the arms of the one you knew you’d come to love.

You loved him. You knew this would come to happen. When you saw his future, you saw yourself with him. Loving him, with yourself on his arm with a smile that was almost glowing. You pulled back because when you saw his future and he asked for his reading, it was technically the first time you had spoken. You didn’t want to come across as flirting, you didn’t want it to seem like you were almost manifesting that you two would come to love one another. You kept this secret to yourself. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Sometimes when you gave readings, people would become cross, claiming you took the autonomy of their choices away because you knew the outcomes. They didn’t understand that you had no ability to control what you saw. That that wasn’t your intention. But to many it came across as rude, especially when the readings were negative.

You knew after seeing the visions of Cazador’s evil acts upon him, that he must’ve struggled with feeling like he was never in control. To say that you saw him with you, you felt as though it’d almost seem like you’re forcing yourself onto him. You could never do that to him. Never.

You pulled away looking into his eyes. You also felt that by keeping this to yourself, you were robbing him of his right to know what he asked. “Astarion I-“

The door flew open, Tav standing there panting. His armor was covered in blood, though it was clear it wasn’t his own. “Some flaming fist bastard tried to kidnap Isobel!” He said.

“Did they succeed?” Astarion asked.

“We’d all be dead if they did.” Tav said sheathing his sword. He looked down, seeing the dead creature.

“We saw one of them go down stairs. We thought for sure that you were-“

“Y/n had it handled.” Astarion assured. Tav nods, noticing Astarion’s hands on your waist. He rose a brow, looking at the hand on his chest.

“…Did I interrupt something?” He asked.

“Aha! Uh- n-no—“

“Oh yes you did. I was just about to ask your sister for some blood but noooo! Someone had to enter without knocking!” Astarion joked. Even with the with the obvious sexual tension, you started laughing, rolling your eyes.

Gods he loved that sound. It was like music every time he heard your laugh. He smiled, not removing his hands from your waist as he looked down at you. Tav was increasingly suspicious.

“Right. Well. Uhm. We’re going to head off.” Tav said.

“Stay safe.” You said. He nodded before leaving, closing the door behind him. He paused, seeing Karlach.

“Wow, damn. That was crazy.” She breathed, clearly still dealing with the aftermath of the battle.

“Have you noticed anything with Y/n and Astarion?” Tav asked. Karlach looked confused.

“No? Why? Walk in on something?” Karlach asked.

“I don’t know.” Tav muttered.

“Were they like… doing it?” Karlach asked and Tav grimaced with a snort.

“What!? No! No it’s… Astarion had his hands on her waist. And her hands were on his chest.” He explained.

“Well how close were they?” Karlach asked. Tav sighed, pulling Karlach over. Ever since they made the temporary fix with the infernal engine, he had touched her hands quite a bit. This was going to be quite the difference…

He pulled her close, pulling her hand to his chest and put his hands on her waist. “Like this. This close.” He said looking up at the tall tiefling. She paused and once he realized how close they were he made the same expression.

“Well. You definitely must’ve walked in on something!” She said with a nervous laugh. Due to her red tone, it was hard to tell if the woman was blushing. But he did take notice in the glowing pattering of her engine speeding up.

He chuckled nervously back in response nodding. “I figured.” He said.

“Well would it be so bad? Ari is a good man. Wouldn’t hurt her.” Karlach shrugged.

“I just… She’s never showed an interest in men before. Honest. Never any childhood crushes, no secret boyfriends as a teenager. She said romance was dull and didn’t interest her.” He said.

“Maybe something changed.” Karlach said.

“I don’t know… Maybe.” He said. She nodded mindlessly.

“We should go to camp. She can’t leave the inn until the curse is lifted and I have a feeling that even though she’s awake, Ari’s not leaving her side.” Karlach said.

“Good point. Maybe it’s time to put Wyll back out there.” He said walking with Karlach.

You finally separated from Astarion after Tav left, getting back into bed as Harpers carried the creature’s body back.

“Do you want food? You’ve been out for days, maybe it’ll do you some good.” Astarion said.

“Soup..” you muttered. He rose a brow.

“Soup? You want soup?” He asked. You nodded sheepishly, feeling as though it was a dumb request.

“I will get you soup then,” he said softly. You watched him get up, leaving and returning with soup in hand. “It was too warm but I cooled it. And I brought bread, you need something else on your stomach.” He said.

You nodded, slowly eating the foods he got for you. You seemed to relax when you finished your food, laying in the bed.

“Why do you call me ‘Little Light’?” You asked after a moment.

“Ah. Right.” Astarion nodded mindlessly. “There’s a bit of hopelessness going around. Like the world itself is being consumed by darkness. But you, my dear, are a little light in the darkest parts of it. Normally I’d roll my eyes at your heroic nature. But the way you handle yourself compared to Tav? It’s entertaining. It’s nice. You don’t just see black and white, you can see the grays in it too. You know when a situation is tricky and you don’t try to avoid it. You make light where there is one. Hence ‘Little Light’.” He shrugged.

“Well now after hearing all of that it’s only fair that I give you a nickname too.” You said. He chuckled, shrugging. “Hmm. I’m thinking on this.” You pondered. He chuckled, watching you. “I could call you chompers,” you said. He blinked. “cause of the teeth.” You said before biting down loudly making him shake his head with a laugh.

“Call me that and I might be forced to bite you.” He teased. You chuckled thinking.

“Oldie?” You suggested. He rose a brow with an amused look on his face.

“Are you trying to make me suffocate you with your pillow?” He asked making you laugh.

“Middlemist.” You said. He looked confused. “It’s a rare flower. It can withstand many things, some have even seen battles. And they’re red. Like… Like your eyes.” You said. He smiled nodding.

“Much better.” He said.

“And they need a little light to grow.” You added. That made him pause. “Not that you need me or anything-“

“I do.” He said. You stopped, swallowing hard. “I have changed since I have met you. Into what I think is a better man. I’ve grown. I didn’t think I could do that again. But I did.” He said softly. You looked in his eyes. “Can I ask you something?” He asked. You nodded.

“What did I look like in my past? I can’t remember how I looked before I was turned.” He asked. You smiled, looking at him. “You had brown hair that was almost black. Your eyes were a deep green. Just like your mother’s.” You said softly. His mother. Oh how he forgotten that sweet woman. She died when he was young but he could remember her kindness. How far from it he must’ve strayed.

He seemed almost sad by your words. He must’ve been such a disappointment for his mother. For him to become a conniving little bat that really didn’t care about other people as long as he gained something in return.

“She would be proud.” You said. He paused hearing this. “You overcame everything that monster put you through. For that she would be proud of you.” You said. His gaze softened, looking at you.

“I’ve hurt so many people-“

“You did what you had to, to survive.” You said. “You are not a monster.”

He had never heard someone say that. In all of his 200 years of life. Someone gave him the reassurance that he wasn’t a monster.

His lips connected with yours in an instant. You were shocked of course. You froze in place but once you registered what was happening, you relaxed, your hands cupping his cheeks. He pulled away after a moment, it dawning on him who he was kissing.

“Shit. Shit shit shit-“

“Are you alright?” You asked.

“You’re Tav’s sister! I-I shouldn’t have—“

Then it sunk in. Astarion was your brother’s closest friend. Oh gods. Oh Gods.

“Shit.” you muttered. “We shouldn’t do this- We should act like this didn’t happen, right?” You asked.

“…If that is what you want.” He muttered. You saw that expression. Almost hurt. Like what just happened didn’t mean anything. But it did. Gods it did. It meant the world. The stars themselves.

“It isn’t but… I don’t want to hurt Tav when he helped me.” You said. Astarion rose a brow. What did you mean “helped you”? He knew there must’ve been a reason you had been with Karlach and Tav. Maybe you meant the medical attention you received but… Something in your eyes seemed to say otherwise. Whatever your brother did, made you feel as though you owed him. Something less trivial than Tav’s typical heroics.

“What did he do?” Astarion asked. You seemed to halt, closing your mouth. You felt as though if he knew your truth, he might see you as less than. Course that was ridiculous, you two suffered in similar ways. But you didn’t know how to even begin to talk about what was done to you in the “Name of the Absolute”.

You looked down, away from his gaze. What happened before you ended up with them? What exactly went on that made you so tight lipped that you wouldn’t even talk to him?

You hesitated but kept closing your mouth. “Those monsters didn’t just want Isobel.” You muttered. Astarion looked even more confused. What the hell did they want with you.

“The Absolute has been tracking me. Trying to find me, they want me to ensure their victory. The natural abilities I have can be weaponized. But Halsin… I know him, he was my teacher. And he told me that if I used them at full power it’d kill me. Destroy my body. I wouldn’t be able to withstand that much power.” You muttered. Astarion blinked.

“Tav had heard my name mentioned by one of the goblins apparently. They had plans to kidnap me and drag me to the towers. By the time he had found me, so did the Absolute’s lackeys. They tried to maim me just enough so that I could be dragged unconscious.” You said. He couldn’t believe this. Tav didn’t go out to drink that night. He went to actively find you.

“He saved me from that group. I was surprised Tav even wanted me here in the first place all things considered but I think he feels that the safest option is to have me nearby. Astarion you mean so much to me but I can’t betray my brother’s trust. Not like this.” You muttered. Astarion felt so many things at once. Sadness. Anger for the fact that they hurt you so badly you nearly died at camp. But understanding to your emotions.

So you ignored them. The feelings that were bubbling like water in a hot pot they were just there. You two tried to ignore it. Over the next two days, Tav returned with a lantern, clipping it to your side.

“LET ME OUUUUTT!”

“Tav why is your lantern screaming at me?” You asked.

“It’s a pissed off pixie.” He said.

“I WILL END YOU ASSHOLE!”

“She sounds beyond pissed.” You said staring at the pixie inside. She was clearly fuming. “It’s like a pissed off pet.” You snorted. Astarion chuckled, finding it funny.

“PET!? I AM NOT A PET! FUCK YOU!”

“I wonder if I can give it something to make it chill out.” You said looking into the lantern.

“Dunno. She’s mad though.” Tav shrugged.

“Thanks but why this?” You asked.

“Isobel said that the reason you’re unable to handle the lands was because mere torchlight wasn’t enough. This should be the best thing.” He said.

“Tav, we both know I can’t go into those towers.” You warned.

“I know. But at least this way, you can travel around without fear of death.” He said. You nodded.

“Thanks.” You said.

“Of course.” He nodded.

So you started joining everyone back at camp. Tav noticed a newfound sadness in Astarion. Staring of longing for you. But he wouldn’t go near you. Tav finally decided to start asking questions.

“Hey, Ari. Can I ask you something?” Tav asked.

“What’s on your mind?” Astarion asked, clearing his throat.

“I’ve noticed something. Between you and Y/n.” He said. Astarion tensed up.

“Wh..what do you mean?” He asked.

“I mean you seem to really like her.” He said.

“Well… Uh… I-I… I don’t want to disrespect you Tav.” He coughed out.

“Do you intend on hurting her?” Tav asked.

“No! Never.” Astarion said quickly.

“Do you intend on drinking her blood and leaving her to die?” He asked.

“No- Gods no Tav!” Astarion said.

“Do you love her?” Tav asked. Astarion paused. He froze. He watched you laughing with Karlach, smiling as you sat next to her.

“…How could I not.” He said.

“Then how is you falling in love disrespectful?” Tav asked. Astarion looked at Tav surprised. He approved? He wanted this?

“You wouldn’t hate me?” Astarion asked.

“No- Gods no. Astarion, Y/n doesn’t like people easily. I’ve never seen her take interest in someone. Ever. But she likes you. And if you like her too, you need to say something. Especially if this whole battle plan Jaheira has goes south.” He said.

Astarion’s gaze went back to you. “Talk to her. Tell her it’s okay with me.” He said. Astarion nodded getting up.

You stood up, walking over to your tent when you noticed Astarion behind you. You jumped. “Gods! You scared me.” You gasped.

“Oh! Sorry I-“

“No-no it’s okay!” You said.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He said.

“Oh… erm… About what?” You asked.

“Tav spoke to me.” He said. You blinked.

“About what?” You asked.

“You. And me. Us.” He said.

“…Oh.” You breathed. He felt already that he might’ve misread everything. Maybe the kiss was something that you didn’t like and you were using Tav as an excuse as to not hurt his feelings. Maybe you didn’t like him at all, maybe he read too much into this. “what did he say?” You asked.

“That… He doesn’t want to be what sets us back. That if we feel… strongly for one another we should pursue it.” He said.

You looked relieved. You didn’t hesitate, you just hugged him. “Thank the gods.” You muttered into his chest. Relief hit him instantly as he hugged you back. You felt safe again in those arms.

He kissed your head and you looked in his eyes as you pulled away slightly. “Stay with me tonight? Please?” You asked quietly. He smiled gently.

“Of course my dear.” He said, kissing your nose.

That night, he stepped into your tent, pausing as he saw your back. It was like his almost. Not infernal writings but something different. Writings of preachings of Shar. Which was odd. Because he knew you didn’t hold high opinions of Shar. You turned, jumping.

“Gods! I need to put a bell on you or something, you scared me!” You said. He shook himself out of the focus of the preachings on your back. You turned back, your shirt clutched in your fingers. “I suppose you’re wondering why Shar’s preaches are on my back?” You asked.

“…You don’t have to indulge my curiosity.” He said gently.

“I was kidnapped years ago when I was a child. Tav and I were playing in our village, I lost my ball and I went to grab it. I was known as the druid magic girl. So one of Shar’s followers grabbed me. Branded me with Shar’s words against my will to remind me that Shar would be superior.” You said.

He stopped, staring with wide eyes. He couldn’t believe that someone would brand someone like that because of their beliefs, much less a child. “It’s why I bathe alone. Last time I was with the girls, Shadowheart kept making remarks about it.” You muttered. He frowned.

“Shadowheart will have my fangs in her neck if she opens her mouth about it again.” He said. You sighed.

“You shouldn’t turn against her just because I have a problem with it.” You said.

“I would do it anyways. The girl is far too chatty.” He shrugged making you chuckle.

“I feel… hideous sometimes. With these scars. I hate them. It’s like I become painfully aware of my skin.” You muttered. Gods they really were two sides of the same coin.

He walked over, gently wrapping his arms around you from behind. He kissed the back of your neck. “I know how you feel.” He said softly. You dropped your shirt after a couple of seconds slowly turned in his arms.

“Cazador branded me. Though I don’t have a mirror. Don’t know what exactly is written.” He said. You looked at him sympathetically. You never wanted anyone to know that kind of pain. But there was someone who did. You rested your forehead on his.

“We truly are fucked up individuals, aren’t we?” You muttered.

“Indeed my dear. Pained by others.” He muttered.

You held his cheek, kissing him. “No harm will come to you as long as I am near.” You assured. He chuckled.

“I should be saying this to you.” He said. You felt a familiar tinge of pain, wincing and gripping your head.

A vision. Something in the strings of fate was near. You gripped Astarion’s arm, closing your eyes. What was fate telling you?

You saw yourself, in Astarion’s arms. Dead. With vines everywhere. The shadow curse lifted. You pulled away, panting.

“What happened? Are you alright?” He asked. You frowned looking down. This didn’t make any sense. You were perfectly alive in your first vision with Astarion. Something was going to happen, something so large it changed the strings of fate themselves. You panted, trying to catch your breath.

“Love, are you alright?” He asked again.

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Just a vision.” You breathed. He looked at you concerned. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay,” you said looking in his eyes. He looked confused.

The next morning you woke up in Astarion’s arms. Completely naked of course. Your legs felt… well they felt sore. Like your core muscles had been pushed past your typical limit. You were the first to wake up and you took your time to yourself thinking on what the vision meant.

Was it meant to happen? Was it a warning? No, anytime a vision like that occurred spontaneously, it meant it was fate. So what was Astarion’s future if you were dead? How were you going to live out your days if you were destined to die?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the red eyes looking into yours. “Morning, my love.” He said softly.

“Morning my darling.” You said back, kissing his forehead.

“You’re thinking. I can tell.” He said.

“I am.” You nodded mindlessly.

“About? Do indulge me.”

“… How much longer do you think we have before Tav attacks the towers?” You asked.

“I’m uncertain. He hasn’t had me with him that much, he wants me to look after you.” He said.

You nodded again. “I have questions for him… I’ll be right back.” You said getting up. Astarion seemed confused. Last night you seemed like this too. I mean, not entirely, eventually your focus went to him. A lot. Which surprised him. He had no idea a tongue could even do that but that was beside the point. Something had claimed your attention this morning, judging by the look in your eyes it was serious.

You got dressed, walking out of your tent. “Tav, I need to talk to you.” You said.

“Well you sound serious- wow you’re shaking.” He noticed your legs wobbling a bit. Damn it Astarion. Damn it.

“Aha. Well…. that’s not… important.” You coughed out.

“Uh huh. Sure. What’s going on?” He asked.

You looked back at your tent. You looked around the camp. “Not… not here.” You said. You grabbed your lantern next to the back. “Come.”

Tav followed you away from the camp, wondering what had you so serious. “When do you think you’re attacking Moonrise?” You asked. He paused.

“What?” He asked.

“Moonrise. When do you plan on attacking?” You asked.

“…I just got the Nightsong. So probably soon.” He said.

“I need to be there.” You said. He rose a brow.

“You want to be there or you had a vision where you are there and I need to take you before I piss off a nature god?” He asked.

“The second one.” You said.

“You had a vision,” he said.

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“Gonna tell me what it was?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I do, you will try to stop me.” You said. He frowned.

“Y/n, what did you see?” He asked.

“I will not tell you.”

“What did you see?” He asked again.

“Tav-”

“Y/n. What. Did. You. See?” he asked.

“I died. I was dead. But you succeeded. The only way this succeeds is if I-”

“No.”

“Tav. We both know what happens when you try to change fate.” You said. He sighed running a hand over his face.

“…Okay. Okay. You seem serious about this. I’ll respect it. Does Astarion know?” He asked.

“No.” You said.

“You haven’t told him?” He asked.

“No. Please don’t say anything. I… I don’t want him to try to stop it,” you said. Tav sighed. But he nodded.

You didn’t realize Tav planned on leaving for the towers soon. Or that he’d do it without you. He couldn’t lose you. Not like that. Not in a place like the dark forest. He already almost lost you twice. Three times if you include the massive event that happened when you were kids that got his clan killed because he tried to change fate. He did. But at the cost of everyone else. The two of you promised to never try that again. But Tav was too stubborn for his own good.

The next week, it was decided. Gale, Astarion and Karlach would go with him. You, Lae’zel, Shadowheart and Halsin would stay behind. You were gathering water into a bucket when you realized they left.

“Where’d Tav go?” You asked Shadowheart.

“Dunno. Said he had things to handle before the towers.” She shrugged reading a book.

You shrugged it off but then realized Astarion was gone. Whatever your brother was doing wasn’t small. He took Astarion with him when he had to hide. You noticed the heavier armor Tav wore before handling large fights was gone. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

“Tav, I thought you told Y/n that she’d be here for this.” Karlach said walking next to Tav.

“I lied. I can’t…” even if he did go back on one promise, he couldn’t let the other one go. That’d be hurting you twice over. “The lands make her weaker. I just felt like she’d be better off at camp.” Tav shrugged.

Astarion knew when Tav was lying. There was another reason you weren’t here. But for whatever reason, he wasn’t saying it.

“Gale, do your powers feel okay?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m alright for now,” Gale shrugged.

“Good. Want you feeling alright for this.” Tav nodded. Astarion sighed. This was going to be a long fight, he could feel it.

Sure enough it was. He fought through hoards of angry and pissed off creatures. He pushed through though, thanks to Tav’s insistence that Gale learn a healing spell or two a while back. Then came Ketheric. Who was pissed by Tav’s interference with the Nightsong.

He stood face to face with Tav, glaring at the man with contempt. Tav hoped that if he died instead of you, the fates would be satisfied. They wouldn’t need your life any longer. But that isn’t the way fate works.

Long were the waves of battle that Ketheric threw at them. Each one knocked everyone down. The first wave, took out Gale. The second was Karlach. Astarion was knocked to his knees as Tav bared his teeth at the bastard with his sword in hand with enemy blood on his face.

“You will die, little boy. You will die a heretic. A non believer in the Absolute.” Ketheric said.

“I will die knowing you died with me.” Tav growled back.

Astarion gripped his dagger, coughing from being winded.

Then he noticed. The moss slowly growing up from the stones. The small little blooms that were rising from the cracks of the ground.

He heard something. Your voice. And suddenly it was like he breathed in fresh air. Everyone felt better within an instant. Karlach slowly got up, gripping her war hammer as Gale used his staff to rise.

“Lay a hand on my brother and I cut you where you stand, Ketheric.” Your voice said. Everyone turned to you standing behind them all. You looked different. Your eyes were glowing green, your bird tattoos on your cheek were glowing white. You looked as though a celestial being had touched you.

You stepped forward Tav showing a new kind of fear in his eyes. Astarion had never seen Tav this scared. Not even as he was facing Ketheric did he seem scared. But right now, this man seemed terrified.

“No! Y/n-“ you flicked your wrist, ensnaring Tav. You couldn’t let him stop you. Tav struggled in your vines as you stepped forward with an incredibly calm look.

“You have turned this land. Corrupted it. Eilistraee is unhappy with you. I am unhappy with you.” You said walking. Karlach looked at Astarion with a surprised look, almost questioning if they were seeing the same thing.

Y/n, their sweet chaotic little cleric was walking towards a man that nearly killed them mere seconds ago as if he was a child about to be scolded. But something was different.

“Do you know what happens when the balance of nature is disturbed?” You asked, picking up a dead foot soldier’s sword from the ground. “it does anything it wants” You walked, dragging the sword across the stone of the tower. “For as long as it takes” your eyes glowed brighter. “To set the scales back.”

“Was this supposed to scare me, child?” Ketheric spat. You gave the most unsettling smile anyone in the group had ever seen.

“Oh no, Ketheric.” You said.

“And you expect to just stab me?” He scoffed.

“Oh you’re once again wrong, Ketheric. This is your grave marker.” You said, slamming the sword into the ground. “My words aren’t meant to scare you.” You said.

“Mine are.” It was if you were speaking. But it wasn’t your voice. This was different entirely. Tav struggled harder.

“You wanted her powers? Fine. Here they are.”

Within an instant vines erupted through the ground, the glow of your eyes becoming brighter as you began floating.

“Y/N NO!” Tav screamed. This was what Ketheric wanted you for. This is what he wanted to use. Astarion’s eyes widened as it seemed like wings made of pure light formed behind you. With a flick of your wrist, Ketheric was obliterated. But that didn’t end there.

You let out a loud scream, light erupting from your chest blinding everyone for seconds before finally they all heard a thud. Astarion blinked a few times to regain sight. He thought whatever had been going on was still happening until he realized… that was the sun.

He gaped turning to look at you before he realized you were the thud. You had served Eilistraee‘s purpose. Now, you were dead. Astarion dropped his daggers sprinting over as Tav, Gale and Karlach all did the same.

“No no no no, Y/n- darling don’t do this to me don’t you fucking do this to me!” Astarion said frantically shaking you.

Nothing. Not a stir.

Tears flooded his eyes, him holding your body close. “Y/n wake up. Please fucking wake up.” He begged. Cold. You were so cold.

Tav looked at Gale “Isn’t there something you can do!?” He asked.

“I-I can’t— when someone takes this much power from a god it-it destroys the vessel— I’ve never even witnessed a god possess a human like this!” Gale said.

“Withers c-can bring her back right!?” Tav asked.

“Her soul had to be what costed all of this…” Gale said.

“Damn it Gale! Can’t you do anything useful!?” Tav snapped.

“Tav I don’t think there’s anything we can do-“

“Unless you have something useful to say, shut up!” Tav snapped.

“Stop snapping at him like he’s nothing!” Karlach defended

“I don’t see you trying to help—“

“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Astarion yelled. Everyone turned. “Would one of you assholes just fucking help me bury her so she can rest, or do you all plan on being heartless fucks just screaming at each other when you know damn well that she wouldn’t want this!?” Astarion asked. Silence. Haunting silence.

Tav looked down at his baby sister in Astarion’s arms, cold and lifeless. She truly was gone. He collapsed to his knees in front of Astarion in tears, gripping the moss that was now growing. Karlach slowly kneeled, holding Tav as he cried. Gale bowed his head as Astarion pressed a kiss to your cold forehead, gently laying you on the ground.

Then Gale noticed it. The moss was still growing. At rapid speed. Like nature was claiming it fast. Only druid magic could do that. He didn’t want to build hope but Halsin was at camp. And the only other Druid was you.

He felt it. A surge of life.

Astarion wiped his eyes, when he heard metal clinking of armor. He looked up to see your body levitating slowly.

“Balance is restored through my vessel, her heart pure. May it be a use in destroying the Absolute.” A voice said. Everyone was confused as a pink speck of light hit your body. Then a blue one. Then a green one. Then yellow. Honestly it was beginning to look like a glitter bomb exploded onto your body before it glowed brightly

Your body dropped, Astarion catching you. Your eyes were still closed. You still seemed very dead. So what the fuck was that?

Then you gasped for air, coughing. Tav let out a relieved breath as you looked around.

“Did it work!? Is Ketheric dead!?” You asked. Astarion wasted no second in kissing you the moment you spoke.

“Okay that’s nice and all but is he dead!?” Yeah. You were definitely back.

“He’s gone.” Astarion said. Tav hugged you as he set you down.

“You fucking idiot! You died!” He said hugging you tightly.

“Well with the grip you have right now I might die again.” You wheezed. Tav let go wiping his eyes.

“Gave us quite the scare there, fire cracker.” Karlach chuckled.

“I still have no idea how you’re alive. I mean Eilistraee herself was in your body using the entirety of your magic, that should’ve killed you.” Gale gaped.

“I suppose she saw more use for me.” You said.

“I’m not complaining.” Astarion said, gently caressing your hair.

“Neither am I.” Tav said relieved.

“Remind me never to piss you off.” Karlach said making you laugh.

“No, you were pretty terrifying out there actually. I’ve never seen anyone just waltz up to anyone and fucking use a celestial blast like it was a normal Tuesday before.” Gale said.

“Well, Eilistraee doesn’t take kindly to people interfering with nature.” You shrugged.

“That’s an understatement of the century.” Karlach chuckled.

You slowly stood up, Astarion gently helping you rise as you leaned on him.

“Let’s go back to camp.” You said. Everyone nodded.

“Let’s have a fucking celebration. You deserve it.” Tav nods. You smiled slightly was Astarion pulled your arm over his neck to help you walk. You all towards the stairs but you stopped, Astarion looked over with a confused glance. He followed your eyes to the remains of Ketheric with the embedded sword at his feet. Astarion looked down at you as your gaze changed to the sunset.

“We wouldn’t have won without you, you know.” He said gently. You said nothing, looking into his eyes. “But if you scare me like that again, I might actually die.” He said making you chuckle before kissing him.

“I’m being serious, don’t do that again.” He said. You slipped your arm off of him.

“No promises.” You shrugged walking.

“Wha- no that’s not a good enough answer little light- get back here!” He groaned. You kept walking and he grinned, scooping you into his arms.

“Oh get a fucking room!” Tav groaned.

“Yeah? Maybe you and Karlach can finally get a room too!” You teased.

“Hey!”

“I mean it’s not a bad idea Tav.” Karlach said.

“See even she’s- wait what?!” Tav said making everyone laugh.

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Why do you make me feel this way? - Chapter 1: Campfire

Astarion frowned in irritation as he shot daggers at the bunch of weirdos sitting around the campfire. Gale had cooked up a root vegetable stew that smell incredible and the others shovelled it into their mouths as if they were starving. Halsin blathered on about "nature's gifts that keep giving" and Lae'zel expressed her disgust regarding the beets' earthy flavour while Karlach exclaimed to finally be able to "go for a good meal".

Astarion's gaze fell on Tav again. Good-natured, big-hearted Tav. The vampire spawn wasn't able to figure her out. Everything about her seemed contrary; her strong frame even though she was a bard, her honesty even though she could spin the most believable lies when she wanted to, her down-to-earthness despite being an artist, and her gentleness even though she fought with a ferocity that was impressive even to him.

Who are you really? What are your true intentions? Astarion mused. How long until you'll show your true colours?

He stared at their androgynous not-really-but-still-kinda leader.

He had accidentally caught her bathing in the river and had stared at her broad shoulders, muscular arms and thick thighs. He was sure she could pick him up with ease despite being shorter than him. He'd looked at the freckles on her shoulders and back, looked at that awful, short, shaggy hair style that she'd accomplished all by herself with a pair of scissors and a razor. He'd listened to her sweet voice that was so soothing as she hummed to herself.

There was something unnerving about her kind eyes when she looked at him – as if she could see right through his flirtatious facade and into his battered heart. Astarion hated it as much as he craved it. Deep down, he wanted to trust her, to be his true self again after all these years of terror caused by Cazador.

Why do you make me feel this way? Astarion asked silently, and, with a heavy heart, he watched as Tav laughed at one of Gale's lame jokes. The vampire spawn closed his eyes for a moment. The worst part was that he trusted Tav. He didn't know why, he just did. Astarion felt safe around her and he was terrified of been hurt.

Scratch and the owlbear cup seemed to sense his emotional turmoil since they scuttled over and pressed themselves against the vampire spawn's legs.

"Hey, Astarion! Come join us!" Tav shouted smiling, waving her spoon above her head.

The addressed forced a nonchalant smile onto his face and sauntered towards the fire. He sat down next to Tav and let himself be patted on the knee. Sighing silently, Astarion threw another glance at the fascinating human next to him.

Please, don't judge me for what I'd been forced to do. Please, accept me just the way I am. Love me, please.

[miradelletarot]

Part 5: The Walk of Shame - The Weave and the Vines

Summary:

Sagora and Gale certainly enjoyed their evening, but when they aren't in camp the next morning, tempers flare from a certain Vampire Spawn.

Tags:

mentions of partial nudity, suggestive discussion, grumpy Astarion, Invisibility, silliness, fluff

Words: 923 | AO3

Astarion stomped around the campfire, hustling to make breakfast for the camp. It was Gale’s turn, but he was nowhere to be found. Clearly, he was not at all concerned about the wizard’s absence.

“I swear, when that idiot comes back from whatever the hells he’s doing I’m –” “Uhh, Astarion…”

“No, Wyll. Fuck him. It’s his turn , and I got stuck doing HIS job!”

“Astarion–” “WHAT!?”

“The eggs are burning.” Calm, and rather nonchalant, Wyll casually pointed to the neglected pan over the coals. “ Shit !” In a frantic huff, Astarion hurriedly attempted to salvage what he could of everyone’s morning meal. “Hey, Fangs. You sound like you’re havin’ a mornin’, eh?” Karlach walked over and gave Astarion a strong pat on his shoulder earning her an irritated glare from the Pale Elf.

“Well, I don’t give a fuck if it’s burned. Eat it or don’t. Your loss either way.” He stomped off to gather plates and utensils, muttering a variety of swears as he went.

Karlach leaned over to Wyll to whisper in his ear. “What’s got him all pissy this morning?” “Gale’s missing apparently.” “Missing?! Why in the hells aren’t we looking for him?”

Astarion whipped around to face them, their whispers not going unheard. “OH, I’m sure he’s FIIINNEEE! We aren’t blown to bits so he’s alive at least.” He unceremoniously tossed an empty plate at each of them. “You can serve yourselves. I’m not a tavern keep.” “Well, someone seems usually surly this morning.” Halsin walked up to the group to collect his portion of breakfast, and a cup of coffee. “Did you neglect your bloodlust last night, my friend?” “No. Sagora said I could feed on her last night, but she wasn’t in her tent, so I skulked around Last Light Inn feasting on rats instead. So, I’m just peachy! ” “Wait a minute.” Wyll paused Astarion’s tirade. “Are you saying Sagora’s gone too?” “I didn’t check if she’s still gone, but she wasn’t in her tent when I looked last night.” Halsin, Wyll, and Karlach looked at each other, and tried to stifle the grins creeping across their faces. Halsin broke away to check for Sagora in her tent, and sure enough, she was gone. He walked back over, sipping on his coffee with a smirk on his face.

“Well, she’s gone all right.” The trio tried to compose themselves, yet couldn’t help but giggle at Astarion’s unusual lack of understanding. “Why are you morons smiling? You can’t seriously think Sagora would do… that. ” He gestured randomly in the air. “With him .”

Suddenly, just past the campfire, a pair of trousers fell out of thin air to the ground with a soft flump garnering the attention of all four companions. The trousers were left abandoned in a trail of vanishing, frantic, and barely audible whispers towards Gale’s tent.                 “Shit!”

“Leave ‘em!”

“They know it’s us!”

“Shut up, Gale. I think it’s wearing off!”

“Quickly. We’re almost there.”

Astarion looked away from the direction of the whispered voices, turning to the trio once again. His face was blank, and clearly annoyed. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

Mere seconds later, Sagora and Gale materialized as their invisibility potions wore off. Their nearly exposed bodies were haphazardly wrapped in a disorganized mess of blankets, and discarded clothing.

“Good Morning!” Halsin smiled wide, and raised his cup in their direction. They froze, and turned to see him standing by the fire grinning wildly. They’d been had. “Ah! Morning, Halsin!” Gale shouted. He tried to act casual, raising his hand to wave at the group. He nearly revealed himself to the camp as the awkward bundle of fabrics threatened to fall away from him. He caught the garments just in time before they betrayed his modesty...or what was left of it. Him and Sagora giggled like school children as they stumbled ungracefully into his tent.

Karlach, Wyll, and Halsin couldn’t hold back any longer. They were thrown into a fit of laughter not only at the couple’s folly, but at the angry, wet cat expression Astarion had on his face.

“Don’t be jealous, Fangs. I’m sure you can find someone else to sink your teeth…or other things…into.” Her playful pouting, turned laughter, only angered him more. Wyll tried his best to settle his amusement to no avail. “Look on the bright side, Astarion. At least they are both alive and well! You won’t have to cook tonight!”

Astarion huffed. “Well, I’m glad you’re all amused. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking my barely-edible breakfast to my own tent.”

Sagora walked over to the campfire after Astarion stormed off. Gale's robes were carelessly draped around her body as she collected a plate filled with two servings of the overcooked eggs, two hunks of bread, and hooked one finger through the handles of two cups of coffee.

Her hair was disheveled, braids unraveling, and cheeks flushed. “Morning, everyone.” She grinned awkwardly. Halsin smiled back, raising his cup again as if to toast her on her evening. “Enjoying some of nature’s gifts, I see.” Sagora bit her lip, trying to calm the awkward grin creeping over her face. “Indeed we did.” Her face was almost as bright as her hair by now. “So…was it good? ” Karlach smiled, wiggling her eyebrows with mock seduction.

“Karlach!”  “What?! It’s not like it’s a secret, Wyll!”

Sagora started to leave, but turned back and leaned in to whisper to her companions.

“It was mind blowing.” She smirked proudly, and shuffled back to Gale’s tent.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

[tatterings]

Lamentable is the Autumn Picker Content with Plums - Chapter 4, "A Sprout Breaking Through"

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin

Rating: Mature (FINALLY, y'all made it to a little smut!)

Tags/warnings: n/a for this chapter but this is a WIP. Contains spoilers up to late act 1

Word count: 3,000

Note: This is the fourth chapter of first ever fanfiction! I’ve also posted this on AO3. Fic under the cut.

It seemed like hours before the Tieflings finally departed, but Astarion’s lantern hadn’t used more than an hour’s worth of oil. Even so, the wait to feed was agonizing, made doubly torturous because he’d be feeding on the confusing, but ruggedly handsome, druid Halsin.

Astarion banished his anxiety through preening to prepare for his delectable date. Despite not being able to see his reflection, he had learned how to doll himself up sans mirror through 200 years of practice. The vampire plucked a bejeweled stopper from an angular glass vial; the aroma of bergamot and rosemary escaped the container. The slight sweetness of aged brandy joined the other scents in the air as Astarion tipped the open vial onto his wrists. He dabbed oil behind his ears and slid his fingers down his trousers to leave a touch of the lingering scent on his hips. That should do the trick, whatever may happen, he thought, snapping the vial shut with a satisfying click placing it in his knapsack.

His elven ears were sensitive enough to know that the others had also retreated to their tents. Although, with how loudly Gale snores, I could be half-deaf and still know the wizard was asleep. Astarion lifted the flap of his tent peeked out. Indeed, everyone had retreated for rest; they had a full morning ahead, and Halsin had promised to share his findings on ceremorphosis early the next morning.

A shame I’m keeping him up, but he did ask for this, Astarion thought as he sauntered to Halsin’s tent, his soft-soled leather shoes crunching against the pebble stone of the ground. The dying fire shed little light upon the campsite, so the vampire’s shadow was barely perceptible against his neighbors’ tent walls.

And yet, Halsin had somehow expected him right at the moment; upon lifting the tent flap, Astarion found the druid actively closing a book he had been reading by candlelight. Halsin was seated on the ground at a slight incline, his well-muscled back against a log he must have dragged into the tent. Druids, the vampire thought with a slight shake of his head, one can’t take the druid out of nature nor the nature out of the druid.

Halsin had freed his locks from its ponytail; his auburn hair fell in front of his ears, framing his face. It added a softness to his visage and took away the hardness granted by the druid’s scars and facial tattoos. His hazel-green gaze met Astarion’s, and a wide smile graced the Arch Druid’s lips. The druid didn’t move upon Astarion’s arrival, nor did he speak.

The vampire tilted his head to the side. “Are.. you quite alright, Halsin?” he asked, letting the tent flap close behind him. He took a step forward as the thick canvas unexpectedly slapped his behind.

The druid blinked several times and smiled wider, “Forgive me, Astarion. Sometimes I forget myself, gazing on the beauty of nature’s creations.”

Ah, so he shows his true colors. It is a kink, for him, Astarion mulled. So be it; a protector is a protector..

“At least you acknowledge my beauty,” Astarion purred, raising his hand to run it through his hair, “Not enough people mention it.” He’d always told himself that empty praise was still praise, and he would take what he could get.

Halsin replied with a soft chuckle and patted the bedroll beside him. “I suppose we should get started?” he asked, his voice just above a husky whisper, “your friends will have many questions for me. I’ve shared details with you that I have not yet told them.”

“Ooh, how delicious darling, choosing me to be privy to the details?” Astarion said with well-practiced mirth. “I’m oh-so flattered you could confide in me.” Halsin’s eyebrow shot up at Astarion’s words. The vampire brushed it off as curiosity and settled himself beside Halsin on the bedroll. “And just as flattered that you want to share that delicious neck of yours,” he continued, leaning his torso against Halsin’s. He crawled his slender hand up the druid’s thick forearm, his biceps, and up to his shoulder.

Halsin’s brows furrowed, and he studied the vampire with an expression that Astarion couldn’t read. It wasn’t sexual desire, Astarion knew that look well. Nor was it anger. The closest Astarion could equate it to was confusion. What is going on in this druid’s head?

-*-*-*-

Halsin was perplexed by how aloof the vampire seemed to act. Earlier in the evening they shared what had seemed like a heartfelt conversation, despite Halsin catching Astarion off-guard. They had shared snippets of their past with sincerity, despite not going into depth.

But in this moment, Astarion seemed to play a mummer’s role. He strutted in front of Halsin like a peacock displaying for the peahen. Perhaps it is his hunger, the druid considered, that has him acting so. I too have had times where the beast in me hungered for many things, and my behavior has changed..

“So.. how does this work,” Halsin asked, shaking himself from his thoughts. The druid braced his hands on ground; his arms, thick as tree branches, were spread out to his sides. “Shall I sit up, or lie down? And I suppose I shall stop you if I begin to feel it’s too much?”

The vampire tutted at his questions, peering up at him from behind pale eyelashes. “Don’t worry so much, my musclebound friend,” Astarion assured, tucking strands of long brown hair behind Halsin’s ear and putting both palms on the druid’s chest. He could feel the curls of chest hair through the druid’s linen tunic. “Why don’t you lay down darling. Get more... comfortable,” The vampire’s eyes seemed to glitter with hunger. “You’re doing such a kindness, I can’t have you inconvenienced.”

Halsin nodded and gave a sheepish smile to the vampire, who was now only inches from his face. Astarion was stunningly beautiful. His white hair curling about his pointed ears. The handsome laugh-lines on either side of his mouth. And Oak Father help him, Halsin could hardly hold himself back from touching those rosy, plump lips which disguised Astarion’s sharp fangs. The pale elf’s hands on his chest surely felt Halsin’s heartbeat, thundering underneath his tunic like a stampede of deep rothé beasts.

Astarion lifted his hands from Halsin’s chest and perched on his knees, eyes wide with delight and hunger. The Arch Druid lowered himself to the bedroll with unexpected grace for such a large elf. Halsin flushed furiously and swallowed a lump in his throat. Why was it he felt so exposed? He could not recall the last time he felt so vulnerable. I believe I’d be more comfortable if I stripped bare as nature intended, and danced through the middle of the camp, than I am right now, he pondered.

“I think I am ready, Astarion,” he said, betraying only a twinge of nervousness, “I must admit, I am a little nervous. Others have bitten me in… similar situations. But not to the point of blood-drawing. Be gentle, if you can.” A small smile crossed his face, and he reached for the vampire’s delicate hand.

-*-*-*-

The vampire felt a lump form in his throat as Halsin touched his hand. How delicately the druid’s fingers caressed his own; the druid’s grip was gentle, but firm. The large elf’s tender touch was undeniably endearing. Nervousness is rather adorable on this big oaf, Astarion thought. He met Halsin’s nervous smile with a toothy grin of his own.

“Of course, darling, and it will be over before you know it. You can trust me…” he drawled, lowering himself to place his torso on top of the druid’s, “And you can also trust that I’ll leave you wanting more.” The flippant empty promises poured so easily from Astarion’s lips. He hadn’t forgotten a thing about how to effortlessly enchant someone, after all.

He felt the pounding of the druid’s heart through both their tunics. The body heat from the larger man seeped into Astarion’s skin, and he fought back a shiver to maintain his facade.

“Is.. this position appropriate?” Halsin asked, shrugging his large shoulders. The movement jostled the smaller elf atop his large frame, and he raised his hands to hover above Astarion’s body, in case the vampire lost his balance.

“Oh my dear sweet druid,” Astarion replied, “I would take you in any position you wished, but it would be anything but appropriate.” He crawled one hand up Halsin’s torso, and ran a finger around the neck of his linen tunic, tugging it slightly lower and to the side.

Astarion’s heart leaped into his throat as he watched Halsin flush. The tips of the druid’s ears turned such a deep red that it rivaled that of his facial tattoos. “Perhaps another time,” the druid replied with a kind smile and another flush, “But it grows late, and I’m sure our companions will demand answers as soon as the sun rises. Go on, Astarion.”

Hearing his name fall from the Arch Druid’s lips in such an intimate position caught Astarion by surprise, and he fought falling from Halsin’s barrel chest. He played it off as intentional, as though he intended to brace himself. The pale elf placed his forearm on Halsin’s thick pectoral muscle, the druid’s curly chest hair tickling him even through the linen. His other hand cupped the back of Halsin’s head, fingertips combing through his thick auburn hair. Astarion nearly had to straddle the druid to reach across him comfortably. Gods above, this man is a bear even in elven form, he thought.

He gently made a fist in Halsin’s locks, eliciting a slight grunt from the druid. Astarion felt his breath catch in his throat at the sound; he hadn’t even touched Halsin’s throat with his lips yet. Astarion turned his wrist, angling Halsin’s head to have a wider view of his neck.

“Little bite, my sweet bear,” he cooed, and brought his lips to the druid’s sun-tanned throat. He lapped at the skin with his tongue and felt Halsin’s throat vibrate with another guttural sound. He then bared his fangs and stabbed them into the druid’s neck, biting down hard before lifting his teeth back out to permit blood flow.

Halsin jerked at the pain and the sensation of the vampire’s cool mouth with a groan, lifting one large hand to settle on the vampire’s waist. The druid squeezed gently, his thumb rubbing on the crest of v-shaped muscle above Astarion’s hip. Gods, if he put both his hands on me he’d almost be able to touch his own fingers, mulled Astarion, before sucking at the two open divots.

Halsin’s viscous, warm blood poured over his tongue. Astarion stifled a moan as he swallowed his first mouthful of the life-giving liquid. Wine-red eyes fluttered shut as he was overcome with invigorating ecstasy. Stars blossomed behind his eyelids as the warmth coated his palate and throat.

Goosebumps rose on his pale skin, forming first at his stomach before spreading down each arm and leg, downward still to each finger and toe. The heat spread to his chest and his head, and Astarion felt even the tips of his ears burn with warmth.

Finally, the heat spread to his groin. Oh dear, thought the vampire, his eyelids popping back up as he felt his cock swell. He’d never had that reaction before when feeding. But then again, he’d never fed on the blood of any thinking creature.

Astarion dared not remove his mouth from Halsin’s neck yet for fear the druid would ask him to stop, and he lapped his tongue at the pinprick holes to encourage the flow of blood. He groaned into Halsin’s throat as his arousal strained against his trousers, painfully engorged with fresh blood. The vampire’s ears flushed a deeper red as he felt his length press into Halsin’s stomach. If Halsin had noticed it, he had said nothing yet.

-*-*-*-

Halsin had held himself back when Astarion finally pierced his flesh. He had wanted to sit up straight at the feeling of ice water pouring into his veins. It felt at first like a mage had cast Ice Knife at his throat until the sensation grew instead to a throbbing numbness. Between the ice in his veins and the rosemary and bergamot in his nostrils, Halsin felt like he was floating in a dream.

He had held onto Astarion’s hips firmly, both as assurance that the vampire wouldn’t fall, and also as a solid grip to pull him away if Astarion drank more than his fill. He had felt Astarion’s throat bob with the first mouthful of his lifeblood.

And one heartbeat later, Halsin had sworn he felt a stiff bulge against his belly. Is he.. aroused, Halsin had asked himself silently. His suspicions were confirmed when he felt Astarion moan against his throat with a second swallow and moved his hips just so.

Oak Father help me, thought the large elf, as he felt blood rush to his groin, help me not lose control. I cannot take what I desire from this man, not yet. Despite his internal plea, Halsin’s hands disobeyed, pulling the pale elf’s hips up his stomach; Astarion’s thigh dragged across Halsin’s throbbing bulge.

Astarion released a guttural growl and took one last mouthful of Halsin’s blood, before raising up for a breath.

Halsin met his gaze, mouth agape and gasping for air, although the pale elf did not come close to crushing his chest. “Are you okay, Astarion?” he asked with concern, releasing his tight grip on the vampire’s hips.

“Oh yes, darling, more than okay,” Astarion purred, licking his lips with a blood-stained tongue. “In fact, I don’t believe I’ve ever been better.” He dropped his mouth back to Halsin’s throat, lapping eagerly at the smear of blood on his skin. He practiced tongue was delicate, intentional; he did not want to disturb the puncture marks that had begun to clot closed.

Halsin fought back another moan at the sensation of Astarion’s eager tongue and resisted bucking his hips into Astarion’s leather-clad thigh. He allowed the vampire to finish his clean-up efforts, and let his hands fall as the pale elf placed his palms on Halsin’s chest to raise himself up.

-*-*-*-

Astarion felt alive, his skin flush and rosy with fresh new blood. His muscles felt relaxed, but ready to strike, like that of a panther waiting in ambush. His mind, crystal clear, without the fog of hunger to cloud his senses. He could hear Halsin’s heartbeat, not pounding anymore, And against his thigh, he felt the pulse of Halsin’s blood throbbing in the druid’s thick bulge.

“I’m not one for prayer,” Astarion started, with a smack of his lips, “but I believe your Oak Father may hear thanks from me this night.” He was half-earnest in his declaration. “You know, dear Halsin…” the vampire continued, grasping a handful of Halsin’s tunic in his fist and pushing himself down, then up the druid’s body. His movement was intentional. Calculated. It provided agonizing, exhilarating friction on both of their arousals. “You’ve given me a wonderful gift. It’s really only fair I return the favor..”

Halsin peered up at Astarion with his thick brows furrowed, before pulling himself to an inclined position and scooting backward. He leaned against the tree stump, holding Astarion’s waist as he moved so the smaller elf wouldn’t be thrown from his perch. “What do you mean, Astarion? I require nothing from you,” he panted. The druid did not buck against Astarion’s leg, but the vampire knew enough of lust that it was clear the druid was aching to do so.

An airy giggle escaped the vampire’s lips. “Well, for one, we could take an evening to ourselves,” he said, reaching his hand down to the druid’s bulging linen trousers. Halsin’s arousal jerked in his palm as Astarion rubbed gently.

Astarion peered at the druid beneath his eyelashes. “You know, enjoy some privacy… we could both use a little fun,” he cooed.

Halsin cleared his throat and moved a hand to cover Astarion’s, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling it away from his aching erection. “Please do not take what I am about to say as a lack of interest,” the druid assured, and moved his free hand to cradle the side of the vampire’s face. With his other, Halsin interlaced their fingers together. “You are breathtakingly beautiful, Astarion. Nature did wonders when she created you. You tempt me to ruin, as you noticed.”

Astarion’s eyelids shot back up as he searched Halsin’s face for an explanation. Did I do something wrong? He’s obviously aching for me. What did I do? He squeezed Halsin’s hand tightly, as if clinging to hope.

The druid squeezed Astarion’s hand back, with gentleness, and held the firmer grip. “But I give this to you. Freely. With no conditions,” Halsin explained, and tucked a white curl behind Astarion’s ear.

Why does this feel like rejection, then? Astarion’s mind raced, and his lips parted slightly in confusion.

“You do not owe me anything for this, Astarion. Please do not feel you must reciprocate with some gift, be it false praise. Or your body. Or some… facade of what you think I want,” Halsin repeated, gently and slowly. He slid his hand behind Astarion’s neck and rubbed at the muscles at the base of the vampire’s skull.

Astarion sat mute for a moment, staring into Halsin’s eyes. He searched for answers and found none. Only kindness behind those hazel eyes. Only softness behind the druid’s upturned lips. The vampire’s eyebrows knit together, in a concentrated search for any other motive the larger man might possess.

This noble godsdamned fool.

Astarion nodded slowly and pulled himself from Halsin’s grip reluctantly. The druid still held to his fingertips, sitting straight up with his arm outreached to the standing vampire.

“This… is indeed a gift, then,” Astarion said, gazing down into Halsin’s gentle smile. The pale elf turned on his heel and looked at the ground. He inhaled sharply and looked over his shoulder at Halsin, who sat stock-still and straight up. “Thank you. I won’t forget it.”

The pale elf disappeared as the tent flap fell behind him.

[shewhowas39]

"I Should Be Good At This" - for avalost

so this month there's a fandom event - @bg3-apprecimaytion - where creators are encouraged tos how their love for some of their favorite fellow fandom creators! i've got a couple of pieces planned for this month but i wanted to start with this one for @avalost and her durgestarion fic, Judgment.

i've really enjoyed this fic so far. it's post-canon, it's got villain Petras, my boy He Who Was makes an appearance - it's great. so i decided to write a little drabble with her OC, Nyssa, and Astarion. i know there's a prompt list, but I had an idea in mind already so i went rogue.

here's the ao3 link for those who prefer to read there.

***

I Should Be Good At This

(for avalost)

She had it this time. Every time before had been practice, a warmup. They didn’t count. This was the first real attempt.

Nyssa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she pulled the bowstring back, aimed, and let the arrow fly. It sailed through the air…and right past the apple she had been aiming for. 

“Hells.” 

“You’re really determined to use that thing, aren’t you?” Astarion looked up from the book he was reading. He sat next to the fire, flipping the pages of a tome Halsin had leant him during their stop in the Healing Lands.  “It’s admirable, darling. It’s always good to learn a new skill, but I’m not certain right now - on the road, on our way to the underdark - is the best time to be learning.”

“I shouldn’t need to learn!” Nyssa insisted. “I’m an elf! I am meant to be good at this!”

“You’re also a Bhaalspawn meant to be good at murder. But based the last ten shots you’ve fired - and that perfectly untouched apple - I don’t know that you could kill anything with a bow.”

“You aren’t helping.”

Astarion looked at Nyssa for a long moment before closing his book and setting it aside. “All right. I can help.” He stood up and walked over to the tree stump where the apple had been placed as a target.  He picked up the apple, examining it for a moment, and then nodded.

“Astarion, what are you doing?”

“Helping.” He placed the apple on his head. “Perhaps all you need is a little pressure.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Go on. Shoot the apple off my head.”

Nyssa’s jaw dropped and she shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come now, love, Worst case scenario, you take my eye out. But considering how close to the target you’d need to get, that seems unlikely.”

“Are you enjoying being an ass?”

“I am!” He smirked, all crooked and smug. 

Nyssa couldn’t help but relax a little. He’d been unusually quiet and tense since they had left Baldur’s Gate. He hadn’t even acknowledged why they were on their way to the Underdark. And it felt like every conversation theyd had had turned very serious. Seeing him having fun - even if it was a little at her expense - was nice.

“Fine.” She strung another arrow and lifted her bow. “But it’s your funeral… Second funeral, I suppose.”

“Now, darling, don’t be defeatist. Assuming you’ll kill me is already assuming you’ll miss the apple.” 

“Hush. I’m concentrating.”

Astarion closed his mouth, but he was still looking terribly smug. Despite this, Nyssa didn’t want to put out one of her lover’s eyes, so she tried to aim as carefully as she could. Another deep breath. Another pull of the string…

The arrow flew.

And then Astarion screamed.

He fell to his knees, clutching at his side, as the apple toppled from his head. The arrow had gone lower than she’d meant. Lower than his face, too. Nyssa couldn’t see exactly where it had hit him, but she heard the arrow’s thud as it embedded itself into a tree several feet behind him. 

“Astarion!” Nyssa dropped the bow and ran over to him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Astarion laid on his side, both hands pressed below his ribs as he groaned and writhed in pain. “I take it back,” he said through gritted teeth. “You are good at murder with that bloody thing. Gods below.”

“Let me see it,” Nyssa said, kneeling beside him. She gently coaxed him into moving his hands, surprised to find blood had not yet soaked his shirt.  She pushed the hem up, preparing to be faced with a terrible wound she’d need to stitch up.

But it was barely a wound at all. A thin, red scratch ran along his pale flesh. The tiniest trickle of blood slipped from the cut, which was really more like a scratch.

“Hells, Astarion, you had me scared! It barely grazed you!”

“It hurts though!” he whined, and Nyssa almost laughed because she’s pretty sure he’s only exaggerating a little. 

“Perhaps a year in the city has made us softer than I realized.”  Nyssa stood up and went to grab the dozen or so arrows that were now scattered among the trees.  “I think that’s enough target practice for the night.”

When she returned to the campfire, Astarion was no longer whining on the ground. He walked over to Nyssa, taking the arrows and putting them back into her dropped quiver, before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “I’m fine,” he assured her.

“I know,” Nyssa said. “I am sorry, though.”

“Don’t be. I’m the one who talked you into it. I deserved it.” He kissed her forehead. “I know you’re hesitant to use magic, and I understand why. But you’re not going to be a brilliant archer overnight, my dear.” 

Nyssa huffed with frustration, but she knew he was right. Even if she refused to admit it.

Astarion tugged on a strand of red-black hair that had come loose from her bun. “I’ll help you, if you ask nicely.” 

“I’ll consider it.” 

Astarion grinned at that. He leaned in and whispered, “I do know one thing that you’re very good at, darling. If you’d like a little confidence boost.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He kissed her neck, his fangs grazing her skin, before his mouth moved up to her jaw and around to her mouth. The kiss was deep and slow, and Astarion didn’t break it even as he began walking backward, tugging Nyssa along with him as he led them back toward their tent.

Tomorrow would mean another long night of travel. Another night of target practice as Nyssa tried to find a way to fight without risking the harm of her unstable magic. They were getting closer and closer to the Underdark and Petras.

But tonight, at least, Nyssa would find comfort and joy in her lover’s arms. Her smug, dramatic, infuriating, beautiful lover’s arms. 

And maybe that was its own magic. 

[songbirdtales]

Small Talk (OC Tav)

Author's note:

Hey folks! I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to add this little scene into something bigger so it's just a little bite sized jawn based on one of the little conversations the NPCs have when you're running around in early game. I'm just a little too obsessed with my own OCs sorry lol

“Any special someones waiting at home?” Astarion knew when he was barking up the wrong tree, which is why despite looking straight at Shadowheart, he wasn’t really using her as a gauge. If anything her exasperation fueled his real target. He caught their face in his peripheral vision, a soft grin that consciously hid the tiefling fangs underneath. Their hesitation told him enough.

The young elf was more than a little flustered as the party trekked through the bog. “And what about you?” She deflected in the way a young woman with no interest in men desperately shoves off their attention.

“The only woman waiting on word from me would be my mother.” Gale said in an attempt to defuse the tension. The words had drawn Tav’s attention.

“Could be a good thing? A boy your age could use some adventure.” They couldn’t help but tease. 

“And what of our bard? Surely there’s at least one waiting to hear from you.” Gale could take a joke, his smile warm and cheerful despite their circumstances.

Tav’s blue fire eyes stayed on the road ahead as the 4 slowed to a stroll to conceive their strength. “Well,” They tilted their head side to side. The group swelled with excitement as they egged Tav on, all curious to draw out the tale. “I used to travel with a Paladin of Lathander. We’d split ways just a few moon before all this… I don’t know if he even knows I’m missing, but I know once he finds out he’ll be worried. Can’t help himself like that.”

“A fearsome ally,” Gale mused. “Could be worth having such a warrior on our side.”

Shadowheart scoffed. “We don’t need another follower of a conflicting god at camp.” She’d feel less strongly about this when it came to Halsin, but a paladin of Lathander was to Shadowheart like recruiting another Githyanki.

“A paladin?” Astarion almost sounded disgusted. “Sounds annoying. I can see why you left.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Tav said with a shake of their head. “We could have kept having adventures, living on the edge of what we should have been and what we wanted, but sooner or later something was going to give.” They seemed lost in the thought of this mystery man. “He’s so… true. Like a fairy tale. Someone like that is too precious to the world for me to ruin.” Tav shrugged. “So he’ll remain my untouchable champion and I will be alone on stage singing his praise.”

“That’s…” Shadowheart’s awe quickly shifted to annoyance. “So twistedly tragic. And you… think that’s romantic?”

Tav flashed Shadowheart a fanged smile, only pulling them to view for a purpose. “A little madness is part of the trade, love.” One eye closed as Tav winked at Shadowheart. Her reaction was much different to Tav. Despite Astarion’s elegance, there was something feminine about Tav that he just didn’t have. Their androgyny tripped Shadowheart up. A man would never make her melt, but Tav wasn’t a man, or perhaps was more than just a man.  

They all fell just a little more under Tav’s charm, Astarion could even feel the tug of their charisma on his opinion of them. His eyes narrowed as he watched them focus on Shadowheart now, fully committed to flirting with her until her face was bright red. She could only give half hearted refusals to their words as the ground she tried to stand crumbled from under her with the wash of Tav’s gaze. 

This kind of power, the charm to talk their way out of anything… A lot of things were adding up. Astarion had been decided right then and there that he’d seduce Tav, make them his shield from the others. And if he was lucky, maybe even his weapon against Cazidor.

[sekiromi]

A Devil You Do, ch. 4

pairing(s): Raphael x Tav/Reader, Astarion x Tav/Reader themes: reincarnation, soul bond, past lives, lost memories, pining, slow burn cw/tw: canon-typical violence, gore word count: 4.2k previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [read this fic in all its glory on ao3!]

Chapter Four: The Last Light

You, ever the light against which the darkness breaks.

Darkness.

That is all that lingered in these lands. An eternal twilight, a chilling void, all forms stripped of life and sentenced to roam the shadows.

It drained you, permeated your armour, your clothes, your very skin, and seemed to wrap itself around your heart in twisting tendrils, gripping tightly.

Within the claws of the curse, there was no light to guide you. Neither Lathander nor Selûne could hope to penetrate this oppressive gloom, the only gleam keeping the shadows at bay being that of the torch that Halsin held up high in front, and that of your own unwavering resolve.

And nothing, where I now arrive, is shining.

“Stay close, and do not wander from the light.” He warned, casting a glance over his shoulder to the rest of your travelling companions. From beside him, you spared a moment to gaze at them too, noting their worried countenances, lacklustre cheeks and enervated steps. Even Astarion, who by all means should have felt more at home in this deep dusk than any of you, seemed unsettled, and that worried you more than anything else thus far.

Halsin had warned you that the Shadow-Cursed Lands would be like this; devoid of all tenderness and life, dreary and dilapidated, completely depressing and bearing down on you in increasing weight with every step, like wading through mud. Even the stars could not shine here, bequeath their hope and promise of divine assurance unto you, leaving you feeling more lost than ever.

One thing you had not fully anticipated was the cold.

It ate into the marrow of your soul, infected it with a numbness reminiscent of a slow death, and stole your voice away. Your breath condensed in trembling clouds in front of you as you pushed onwards, desperately searching for the strength to press forth and vanquish the shadows lurking around every corner. They kept coming, unrelenting, deterred only by the meek glow of your torches and divine spells, yet you did not falter.

Still, it was a relief when the Harpers led you to the sanctuary that was the Last Light Inn. A glowing sphere of promise broke the wave of darkness that fell against it, protecting the souls within, providing a welcome opportunity to rest and recuperate.

As you lingered within the Moonmaiden’s protection, refamiliarizing yourself with faces first encountered back at the Emerald Grove, your strength slowly started to return to you, arriving like droplets from a leaking tap in meagre, steady beats.

Nobody here was happy, you noted, but at least they were alive. Mostly.

Rolan’s recounting of events dealt you a significant blow, however, hearing how the tieflings you had fought so desperately to protect were struck on the road suddenly, caught off-guard and largely defenceless. How some fell in valiant but condemned combat, how others were taken, whisked away to Moonrise Towers to suffer Gods know what fate, including his own brother and sister. How the rest came to be here at the inn, with nowhere else in the world to go. Desperate and desolate, seeking refuge once again, indebted entirely to strangers. It saddened you beyond measure, wearied your spirit, and had you cursing at your apparent inability to do anything right.

In your journey so far, despite your most heroic of efforts you had left behind little but death and devastation, it seemed.

And so, feeling thoroughly hollow and all but powerless, looking less than your best self, you came across the damned devil again.

“Your move, Mol.” He graced you with a brief glance, attention otherwise entirely enraptured by the game of lanceboard set up between himself and the young tiefling. You gritted your teeth, muscles tensing in irritation at this unlikely coupling. Mol was a free spirit, this much you knew, but you did not think she was so brazen as to commune with the infernal. You felt an instinctive urge to keep her out of Raphael’s claws, though you sensed there was only so much you could hope to say to dissuade her from whatever path she had started paving for herself.

“You trapped me. I didn’t even wanna take this one.” Mol sulked, eyes raking over the board, desperately searching for an escape route.

“Calimshan rules, dear. The first piece touched, is the first piece moved.” Gods his voice was like melted silver.

“That’s garbage! No matter where the knight goes, I’m gonna lose it!” You suppressed an amused smile at her rising frustrations.

“Then make the sacrifice useful.” Raphael’s voice was suddenly stern, lecturing. “Guard your Mystra, or come for my Cyric.” He leant back in his seat relaxedly, allowing Mol the space to further peruse the pieces with her uncovered eye. She examined them at length, discerning nothing, before noticing you all of a sudden.

“Look who made it!” She exclaimed with a smile. “For once I saved your butt out there, didn’t I? We’re square now, chief.” She was referring to your rather unsavoury introduction to Jaheira, a drama you could have easily done without after having just laboriously saved some of her Harpers from the clutches of the Shadow-Cursed.

“Sure thing, Mol.” You responded with your own smile, slipping a side-eye Raphael’s way, unnerved to notice his eyes were already fixed steadily on you.

“Say, do you play lanceboard by any chance? It’s my first time playing.” You did not fail to notice the way her visible eye gleamed in dishonesty. She knew the game, very well in fact, and wanted nothing else other than to win – no matter the means. Considering her opponent, you did not do her the disservice of revealing her blatant lie, and instead casted your eye over the board.

With careful attention, you examined her position, noted down her possible moves, tried to predict Raphael’s responses, narrowing your eyes when you found the blunder. You gave Raphael a suspicious look, unsure whether he had left the opening on purpose to entice the young tiefling, or whether his lanceboard abilities were simply not all that great. Considering the devil was probably about two centuries old at this point, and had undoubtedly played many games of lanceboard against much greater opponents, you guessed it was the former.

Still, you could not help yourself but to bequeath Mol the victory, just to show off a hint of your own knowledge, if nothing else.

“Put some pressure on him. Attack the pieces in front of his king.” You offered, and smiled when she claimed his pawn with her knight.

“My, the Theskan Double Counter-Gambit. Vicious! Exactly what I would have done.” He did not seem perturbed, adding weight to your theory, and disappointment in your chest. Mol quickly proceeded, the moves now revealing themselves before her.

“How’s that for Calimsham rules?”

“Brava! Lovely work. I see I was right to make you the offer I did.” If Raphael’s unfiltered flattery at every passing soul persisted, you thought you might have to consider getting surgery to fix your eyeballs in place, lest you lose them in the back of your head from all the rolling they were doing. “You will consider it, won’t you?” Full of charm, as usual, Mol said nothing. Merely hopped off her seat, and headed towards the others gathered near the bar. With the game now concluded, Raphael stood to face you.

“What a lovely specimen she is. A blushing apple, begging to be plucked.” You felt your face contort into an expression that resembled disgust. What an odd thing to say, you thought.

“Please let me smack this creep.” Karlach mumbled in your ear, echoing your sentiments, and you were half-tempted to let her.

“The Theskan move suggestion was inspired. I had no idea you played.” There was that predictable flattery again. You tried not to let it affect you, honestly, you really did, but you could not help the small, tiny ripple of pride that sprung forth.

“There’s plenty about me you have no idea about.” You responded with a small shrug and a half-smile.

“Don’t I, indeed…” You did not like the way he said that.

“Just stay away from Mol, Raphael.” You meant it to sound more like a warning, something akin to a threat, a statement that she was under your protection (whether she liked it or not). However, it came out as more of a plea, your voice faltering in its gravity.

“Don’t you worry your precious little tadpoled head about Mol – it goes without saying she still has the unconditional freedom to choose the only option she has left. Besides, she won, she has a taste for it now. She’ll be the one who comes to me.” Behind his words was a tease, an implicit understanding that this was your doing. You had given her the tools to taste victory, and thereby bestowed her with a now insatiable appetite for it. You tried not to let it seem like it bothered you, although you sensed it was already too late for that. “But enough about my lesser pursuits. Why bother with trifles when I’m in the illustrious presence of my very favourite client!” He took a low bow, and you had to wonder how many other ‘favourite clients’ he had used that line on before, tried to ignore how easily it was working on you. “Tell me, O apple of my eye, how have you been? You don’t have any gills to get green around yet, but you do look a little worse for wear in this light.” You frowned at that, only slightly offended. Sure, you felt more run down than ever, had not slept soundly for the last few days, and probably looked like you had been dragged through a hedge backwards, but he did not have to say it.

“You know, I’ve never been better.” You lied with a deadpan expression, suddenly void of all patience with him.

“Splendid! And yet…I have this picture in my head, of you tossing and turning in the middle of the night, thinking strange things, dreaming strange dreams. And there’s this little voice inside of you asking: ‘Is this my will, or is it the worm’s?’ But you have no answer, and no way of knowing. The good thing is, though, there’s only one little voice you really should listen to: mine.” Raphael’s usually devilish grin wavered for a moment upon perceiving the fiendish smile adorning your delightful lips, confused as to what could possibly have brought that on. He was trying to dig at you, get under your skin and be the thorn in your side, and he thought he had been succeeding, but it seemed something had slipped past and accidentally entertained you. Raphael’s countenance fell into one of suspicion and annoyance. “What’s so funny, mouse?” Your smile only grew wider as you stifled a laugh.

“Oh, you said a lot of words. But all I heard was that you have these daydreams of me ‘tossing and turning’ in the night.” You mimicked his flirtatious tone and theatrical gesticulations, smirk positively enraging, if not a little bit tempting. Raphael felt his own lips stretch into an amused grin, against his better judgement. He brought his hand to his chin, shaking his head slowly in feigned disapproval.

“Bad girl.”

In that moment, he would have liked it to just be the two of you, your companions be damned, just so you would reciprocate a bit more of this forbidden back and forth with him, enlighten him a little with your undoubtedly sharp tongue. Up until now, you had been far too concerned with what your friends thought of you and the decisions you made to really allow yourself to make an organic choice. He was curious to see what kind of person you were, when nobody else was watching. Perhaps he would pay you another visit soon, when he could finally catch you by yourself, but for now Karlach was looking between you both with no attempt to conceal her revulsion.

“Now, let’s talk about you.” He turned his attentions towards Astarion, lurking closely and almost possessively behind your left shoulder. “I sense there’s something you want to ask me.”

Astarion gave you a quick glance, double-checking he still had your approval. You gave a small, quick nod, despite your own reservations.

“I do. I have a…proposal for you.” He sounded uncertain, almost shy for a change, both emotions you would not associate with the rogue.

“A proposal? If you’re hoping to taste my blood, little vampling, think again. It burns hotter than Wyvern Whiskey.”

“This is serious business, devil.” Astarion’s tone took on a sharper, more familiar note. “My old – well, a long time ago, someone carved some runes into my back. I’d rather like to know what they say.” Behind the air of confidence was a vein of something else, something vulnerable, something ashamed. You turned to look at Astarion, but he did not meet your gaze. Raphael just hummed in response, clearly pretending to think it over.

“Don’t play games, Raphael. Help him out.” You instructed, any former joviality now gone as you turned your attention back to the devil, drawing out a folded piece of paper from your pocket which, when unfurled, revealed the circles of infernal engravings upon Astarion’s back that you had sketched a few nights ago.

“Oh, such impatience.” Raphael chastised, gently taking the sketch, turning it so that he could see it the right way, eyes tracing the letters with considerable curiosity. You knew he could read it straight away, translate the whole thing for Astarion right here and now, but he would not part with that information for free. He nodded along to himself, as if having a conversation within his own head. “It’s something very important to your master. But is it a love letter, a warning, or a deed of ownership? I could give you all the gory details. But of course, you’ll have to do something for me first. Let me think about it and get back to you.” There it is. Astarion scoffed, clearly irritated.

“You’ll ‘get back’ to me? This is important, devil!” He heaved a dejected sigh. “…When?”

“Don’t worry – I’m motivated to help you! Scars often tell such wonderful stories; I think yours might be truly exquisite. I’ll see you soon.” Although those last words were meant for Astarion, the devil looked at you while he spoke them, gaze holding yours for entirely too long. Then, in a swirl of embers and a cloud of smoke, he was gone.

—-

“You have failed me, child.”

A deep, harrowing voice rang in your mind. Your heart trembled at the gravity, the punishment of it.

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.

Salty tears cascaded over rosy cheeks to pool at the corners of your lips. A stifling heat drew beads of sweat from your bare skin, you could feel them running down your back, biting into fresh cuts and scrapes. Even the ground beneath you was hot to the touch, umber dirt slowly burning the soles of your feet drawn up to your chest as you held your meek form marred in blood, bruises, and dust in a mournful embrace, a face burning with an unspeakable shame buried in your arms. Cocooned in downy, bronzed feathers scorched by hellfire, you sat and cried and waited for Death.

You could pray every day for the rest of your life, confess and bare all before the Gods to try to buy exoneration for your wicked thoughts and desires, but it would not change anything. Redemption was a path you were no longer permitted to walk, absolution a stolen dream. You had been judged as unworthy of your station, and thus sentenced to wander the grief-wracked city , that cavern of pain where endless miseries knell , for the remainder of your now finite life.

The heavenly light you had inherited began to fade as you choked back your sobs of unspoken pain, woeful cries swallowed up by the suffocating inferno of Nessus, the Ninth Hell, a pit of suffering reserved for the most wretched of sinners. Firewinds hurtled around, screeching through the flaming forest and threatening to tear the flesh from your bones, the feathers from your torn wings, but you did not care.

Let them claim you, strip you of your very being until nought but stardust remained.

“This is no place for a celestial, my dear.”

His voice, softer than you ever heard it before, ripped you from your despair. Funny how a devil could alleviate some of your most unholy suffering.

You did not look at him, could not bring yourself to exhibit your disgrace.

“A celestial I am no longer. Leave me here to die, Raphael.”

Hoarse and pained, your voice came forth as a mere scratch, heavy with the weight of the consequence of your irreverent crimes.

“Do not let the sun go down on your anger , sweet one.”

Anger. The only thing sharing the space with your sorrow.

“The sun does not shine down here.”

Hands gentler than you had ever known grazed the wing that shielded you, tenderly pushed it down to reveal the beggared being held within.

“No, but perhaps his emissary can.”

Sore, bloodshot eyes slowly lifted to meet vibrant amber moons suspended in a sea of black. A red, clawed hand was extended, an offering, a deal: abandon your grace and walk beside me as my equal, together we will conquer, together we will prevail, together we can do anything at all.

His eyes glistened with his promise and something desperate, a silent want he had grown too weary to bother to hide. It resonated with the ache in your own chest.

Silencing your tears and swallowing your pride, you took his hand.

You awoke that morning in a steady sweat, breaths shallow and mind feverish in a mild panic as the dream danced in vivid clarity before you in the darkness, taunting you with its meaning. It took a while for you to come to your senses, realise where you were, who you were. As you slept, you were sure you had been someone else.

While the portrait of the dream faded from your mind as the day stretched on, it gave way to an unpleasant hollow feeling that started to blossom somewhere between your heart and your stomach, right in the centre of your being. You could not shake the feeling that you had lost something important, that something dear to you had been ripped from your very core. When you allowed this feeling to surge forth, took the time to notice and sit with it, try to reason with it, you found unexplained tears would threaten to spring forth.

Traipsing around Reithwin after a thorough exploration of Moonrise Towers did nothing to ease that emptiness, if anything it only helped it to grow. Witnessing horrors you could never have imagined, surrounded by so many lost souls, it weighed on you more than you cared to admit. Finding Arabella’s parents in the House of Healing, laid out gently, almost lovingly, as if they were merely sleeping took you to the very edge of your sanity. Wandering through the graveyard, learning the names of all those that fell here, it was too much for your soul to bear.

You had never thought that death could have unmade so many.

Feeling wearier than ever by the time you approached the imposing stonework of the Thorm’s family mausoleum in the search for Ketheric’s invulnerability, you almost had no energy to entertain Raphael’s usually amusing banter.

“Our hero thought but of treasure ahead, Did not consider the peace of the dead…”

The devil gazed upon you with an all-too-happy grin, pushing himself upright and off of the stone he had been leaning against, waiting agonisingly for your delayed arrival. Seeing his face, even in his mortal guise, caused a sudden and inexplicable sense of longing to claw its way through your chest and up your throat. Memories of a dream, or, memories that felt like they were trapped in a dream raced across your mind. A sense of total and utter helplessness, fading into a vague notion of belonging. With your waning strength, you fought desperately to push it down, gulp back this awful and unwelcome sense of déjà vu. If Raphael felt it too, he gave no indication.

“Through the dark, she went creeping, And awoke what was sleeping. A new grave they dug, which she herself fed.”

He almost wished to tell you off for being late, keeping him waiting, but sensed it would be fruitless. You had arrived on your own schedule, exactly when you had intended to. Unfortunately for him, you did not play by his rules. Not yet.

“How long have you been stood here practicing that little speech?” You asked with some difficulty as you folded your arms, shamelessly looking him up and down. You might have imagined it, but for a fraction of a moment you could have sworn you saw a hint of a crack in his usually perfect composure, caught slightly off-guard at your words. It was gone as quick as it came though, leaving you wondering whether you had seen it at all.

“Why, until it was perfect.” You had no doubts about that. “I’ve grown quite fond of you, you know, in my way. I thought it only fair to warn you about the dangers ahead.”

And warn you he did, in his way. Eventually. After much convincing and refining. You had not the mental facilities to decode his vague allusions and hidden meanings, not today. If he wanted something from you, he had to put it in plain common, a task that seemed arduously difficult to him. Still, you were able to discern the gist of it: within the mausoleum lurked an orthon, an orthon that Raphael seemed to desperately want dispatched.

“Do not, under any circumstances, underestimate this opponent, mouse. At best you will have the blink of an eye to strike.” He insisted, leaning towards you with a harshness in his voice you had not heard from him yet. “Strike first, strike true. Defy the odds, for they are distinctly in its favour. That much I owe the bastard to concede.” His russet irises bore into yours with a sense of urgency, instruction, and something else mingled in with it all. Something he was trying to hide that seeped onto his face as his brows flinched together, something that, for some reason, he could not hide from you. Concern. “Do this, and I will consider that sufficient payment to decode those scars of yours, Astarion.” He turned his gaze to the vampire for a moment, who nodded in response, before looking back to you. He parted his lips as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it.

“Take care of yourself, won’t you?” Said like a command, tone tinged with warning but betraying a suggestion of authenticity. You did not answer, he always seemed to be the one to decide when the conversation was finished anyway, so you just watched silently as he disappeared.

There was not a single cell in your body that was prepared to fight an orthon today, you decided. Better a task left for tomorrow.

After trudging back to your camp and preparing for the evening you fully intended to collapse straight onto your bedroll, allowing Death’s cousin to take you in its grasp right on through until the morning. Alas, Astarion had other plans. Breaking your heart, namely.

With an air of agitation he explained his plan, how he had set out to seduce you and manipulate you into liking him, caring for him, so that you would offer him valuable protection. A tactic he had employed countless times over the last two centuries to charm the unfortunate and lure them back to his master. A ploy you had fallen for, hook, line and sinker. You felt a deep, unearthly humiliation wash over you, drowning you, even as he admitted to falling for you, too.

The sigh that came forth was probably one of the saddest things Astarion ever recalled hearing.

“You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.” He sounded sincere, but you had trouble noticing over the rush of your own mortification. How could you have not seen this? You had been so caught up in the thrill of a blossoming dalliance, the joy of being desired, you had not thought for a second to wonder whether it was real.

“So, the nights we spent together didn’t mean anything to you?” There was no hint of an accusation in your voice, no bite, no anger. Just pure unfiltered sadness which pained him more than your rage ever could.

“Of course they did, that’s the problem. Or, part of it. Being close to someone, any kind of intimacy, was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels…tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.” You understood, and perhaps that was worse than not understanding, because you felt like it robbed you of your right to hurt. The betrayal stung deeply, agonisingly, but you tried your best to pacify it for the moment. You had always been an expert in diminishing the size of your own feelings for the sake of others, after all. Always one to make room for other people in your life by making yourself smaller.

“Maybe what you really need is a friend, not a lover.”

Astarion looked a little taken aback, a little…unsure, for a moment, before weighing up the meaning of your words.

“I…I would like that.”

You held his hand, promised all was forgiven, that there were no hard feelings. You hoped you were as good at pretending as he seemed to be.

Leaving him, you returned to your own tent and sunk into your bedroll, hoping sleep would come for you quickly so as not to leave you with your now depressing thoughts for too long.

For the first time in a long time, you tucked your head beneath the covers, and wept.

[chapter five]