#way of the drow my beloved

[everybodyloveshippos]

[vigilskeep]

its that time again (tav time)

[drowxiv]

I've wanted to get this shot forever! It was such a pain. Just my two disaster OCs being disasters. It's a decent depiction of their entire relationship honestly. I'm going to share their story someday. I love them to pieces.

[meanbossart]

Well, now I'm so curious! Baahlist Drow, does he have plans for Astarion besides keeping him around? Is it sort of a cat and mouse thing, where he's waiting for the mouse to start to struggle and make the kill fun? Or is he content to keep Astarion on his arm to trot out at murder parties, and, in his mind, be freaks together?

Oh definitely not cat and mouse situation. DU drow is as hopelessly in love with him in that scenario as he usually is, and Astarion has essentially replaced Orin as the new object of his very, very intense affections. He hijacks the ascension not to harm him, or even to "keep him in line", but because in his mind Astarion shouldn't need any power for as long as he has him - and will only love him for as long as he is weak and needs his protection.

His plans include taking Astarion with him all the way to the very end as Bhaal takes over every land they step foot on, assuming his plan continues to go accordingly. So yes - lots of murder parties, some sprinkling of political games and strategy, eventual total world annihilation, the works.

In-game, Sceleritas also suggests that with a partner by your side you ARE able to procreate regardless of gender. No clue if that is anything worth looking into or just a slight oversight by Larian (I kinda doubt it, though - this is wizard-land, if i can banish a dude off to the netherealms for two turns I don't see why I couldn't find a way to smash two dicks together and make a guy, somehow) but it's DEFINITELY something DU drow thinks about a length regardless. He wasn't interested in children before, but there is something almost prophetic now about spawning a child out of a murder demi-god and the undead creature he loves - definitely something he mental-gynastics into becoming a part of Bhaal's plan, not to mention pesters Sceleritas tiredlessly about. THRALL! Have you progressed in your task of finding a way for me to concoct a baby out of my dead beloved's seed and mine yet? Well then why the fuck are you wasting time filing in my taxes!

It almost doesn't sound too bad until you remember that Astarion has absolutely no way out of this relationship now (DU drow would rather keep him unwilling than let him go, he's not committing the same mistake as he did with Orin), no say over what they do, and that DU drow is in no way whatsoever the quiet, charming, loving weirdo he fell for. He talks over him, shows him off like a prized possession, talks about Astarion like he wouldn't last a minute on his own and requires him to constantly look content about his situation lest he becomes altered and puts him down further.

[spacebarbarianweird]

I haven't seen much of Astarion n Elf!Tav, so I was wondering what you would think about them together 🤔

Hi! I've got so many requests for headcanons I really felt like I couldn't decide which one to take next so I asked my subscribers to choose the race for me.

The most voted for Elf! Tav. Since I have separate requests for Drows and Wood Elves, this one is going to be about High Elves.

Hope you will enjoy it!

Astarion x High Elf!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You are young by Elven standards, still many years from receiving your adult name.

But you already have a lot of life experience - and there is sorrow in your eyes since many of your friends are already too old to accompany you.

And you know sooner or later you will be able to share company only among ones of your kind since the world will change too fast for you to grasp it.

You fall in love with Astarion at first sight. He is your Thiramin, a soulmate, a forever love.

Maybe you were together in your past reincarnations. Or in your past life, you met him as a mortal.

Or it's something new for both of you.

Astarion shrugs this idea away. He doesn't have a soul. He will never see his past lives in his dreams when he gets older (because he will never age), he won't reincarnate when he dies (because he is already dead). There is nothing, only the existence of the undead.

To have a Thiramin you also need to have a soul.

Which he doesn't.

But he still loves you. You are the first person he cares and loves. And unless you don't want him in your life, he won't go away

He also has come to terms with your mortality.

First, you will be around for many centuries. He has at least six hundred years together with you or even more.

Second, you will come back. Not right away, but you will. You will come to him, in your new body, and he will recognize you the same way older elves recognize their long-dead friends in children.

Post-game, you travel. Elven wanderlust takes you places - other continents and planes. Halrua, Kara-Tur, the Vilhon Reach, the Sea of Stars. Sometimes you settle for a bit, but never longer than a decade or two.

You speak Elven to each other. Astarion feels safe speaking his mother tongue to you.

You call each other "Salen Aester" and "Salen Thiramin": my love and my soul.

He likes teasing your ears, caressing and love-biting them.

You do the same to him, though, he wasn't comfortable at first.

But you just made him sit in front of you and allowed him to touch your ears while copying his movements.

He ended up a crying mess.

You also decide to spend some time searching for his family though it's difficult since he doesn't remember anything about his past life.

His surname is though of an Elven origin ("The one who learns by hand") sounds unfamiliar to most Elves you meet.

And Astarion is hesitant about searching for his past life.

"Whatever it was, I don't want it. I want the future. With you."

Once you turn 110 years, you return home to get the adult name.

And marry Astarion.

It's difficult for the elders to accept Astarion - a vampire, an undead, a person with no family or kin. 

But they do.

It's a sin to separate Thiramins, after all.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

[moonselune]

Congrats to you!🎉 Very well done.👏

If you are still taking requests, would you mind writing about all bg3 ladies reacting to their pregnant partner being threatened or kidnapped?

Thank you so much !! It's is actually mad to think it's all over now lmao. I really enjoyed writing this and tried not to make it too angsty

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the fields as you and Karlach walked hand in hand, your other hand resting gently on your growing belly. The peaceful moment, however, was abruptly shattered when a group of bandits emerged from the shadows, their eyes filled with malice as they pointed their weapons at you.

"Hand over your valuables," one of them sneered, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made Karlach's blood boil.

Karlach immediately stepped in front of you, her posture protective and her fiery gaze locked onto the bandit leader. "You picked the wrong couple to mess with fucker," she growled, her voice low and dangerous.

The bandit leader laughed, clearly underestimating the fierce tiefling. "I said hand over your valuables, foulblood, or dear expectant over there might not be expecting anymore."

The leader gestured for Karlach to look behind her and as she did she saw that two other bandits had snuck up behind you, one dagger pointing at your throat, the other at your bump.

A deadly silence fell over the scene as Karlach processed the threat. You looked at her calmly, you knew you could easily manoeuvre yourself out of the situation, despite being pregnant, but you had no control over what Karlach was about to unleash. Her eyes darkened, flames flickering on her skin, rising higher and higher as her barbaric infernal rage began to boil over. "You just made the worst mistake of your fucking life,"

Without another word, Karlach launched herself at the bandits with a ferocity that took them by surprise. She moved like a force of nature, her fists blazing with infernal fire as she dispatched them one by one. In the chaos you manages to disarm the bandits and hold them at dagger point, though that didn't save them from your beloved's wrath. Her anger was palpable, every strike a testament to her love and protective instincts for you and the unborn child.

As the last bandit fell, Karlach turned back to you, her expression softening as she saw you were safe. She rushed over, pulling you into a tight embrace, her hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline.

"Are you okay, my loves?" she asked, her voice filled with concern as her eyes darted between you and the bump

You nodded, laughing slightly. "We're fine, thanks to you,"

Karlach held you close, her hands gently caressing your belly. "I won't let anyone hurt you or our baby, ever" she vowed, her voice fierce but tender. "You're my world."

You smiled up at her, feeling the love radiating from her, you rested your head on her chest and looked up at her "I know, Karlach. And I love you for it,"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara

The underground passages of the Underdark were treacherous, but you felt safe with Minthara by your side. Her sharp eyes and keen instincts kept you protected as you navigated the dark corridors. An arm looped with hers as your other hand rested on your bump.

As you turned a corner, a group of hostile drow emerged, their weapons drawn and their eyes glinting with malice. The leader of the group, a tall and menacing figure, stepped forward, her gaze fixed on you.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" She sneered, his eyes flicking to your belly. "A pregnant surface dwelling scum. How interesting."

Minthara immediately positioned herself between you and the drow, her expression icy and her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "If you value your lives, you will leave us be," she said coldly, her voice like steel.

The drow leader laughed, clearly unafraid. "And why should we listen to you, Baenre? You've gone soft, protecting this weakling."

A dangerous glint appeared in Minthara's eyes, and you could feel the tension radiating from her. "I am anything but soft," she replied, her voice low and deadly. "And this 'weakling' is my partner and the mother of my child. You will not touch them."

The drow leader smirked, raising her weapon as if to strike. In an instant, Minthara moved with lethal precision, her sword flashing through the air. She dispatched the leader with a swift, calculated strike, their head rolling to the floor as their body collapsed.

The rest of the gang looked at their fallen leader and Minthara and decided to make a run for it, but Minthara was not so merciful, not when it came in regards to you and the baby.

She hunted them down with lethal and brutal grace, she paved your path with their corpses. As the last of the hostile drow fell, Minthara sheathed her sword and turned to you, her expression softening as she saw you were unharmed. She approached you quickly, her hands gentle as they cupped your face. "Are you hurt? How is the baby?"

You shook your head, a small smile on your face as you wiped a blood splatter from her cheek "No, I'm fine, baby is fine, in fact they were kicking at your violence, taking after you already I fear,"

Minthara let out a breathless laugh and pulled you into a protective embrace, her body tense with lingering anger and fear. "I will never let anyone harm you or our child," she vowed, her voice fierce but filled with love. "You both are mine, and I will protect you with my life."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The camp was a mess of panic and fury the moment Lae'zel discovered you were missing. The fact that you were pregnant only heightened her urgency. She remembered reading somewhere that extreme distress could cause early labor, and the thought of you in such danger while carrying her child filled her with a mix of terror and determination.

Lae'zel's search was relentless. She interrogated every lead, fought off numerous enemies, and never stopped for rest. Her fierce nature was amplified by her protective instincts, driving her to push through any obstacle to reach you. When she finally found you, tied up in a dark, dank cave surrounded by hostile enemies, she didn’t hesitate. She charged in with a war cry, her blade flashing with lethal precision.

Within moments, she had dispatched your captors, her chest heaving with exertion and relief as she cut through your bonds. You fell into her arms, your own tears of relief mingling with her own.

“Are you alright?” Lae'zel demanded, her eyes scanning you for any signs of distress or injury. “Is the baby…?”

“I’m fine,” you assured her, even as she continued to hover over you, her hands shaking slightly as she checked you over. “The baby is fine. It’s just… thank you.”

Lae'zel didn’t seem convinced. She kept glancing at your stomach, clearly still worried. “Extreme distress can cause early labor,” she muttered, more to herself than to you. “We need to make sure you’re not—“

“Lae'zel,” you interrupted gently but firmly, placing a hand on her arm. “I promise, I’m fine. The baby’s fine. We just need to get out of here.”

But Lae'zel wasn’t easily swayed. As you made your way back to the safety of your camp, she kept casting anxious glances at you, and more than once, she tried to subtly check if you were showing any signs of early labor. It was both endearing and exasperating.

When you finally reached the camp, Lae'zel insisted you lie down and rest. She hovered around you, attempting to discreetly see if you were dilated, until you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Lae'zel, please,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not in labor. I just need to rest.”

She frowned, clearly torn between her fierce protectiveness and the logical part of her that knew you were probably right. “I will not leave your side,” she declared, sitting down beside you.

“You’re sweet,” you replied, giving her a tired but affectionate smile. “But I need you to relax. We’re both safe now, thanks to you.”

Lae'zel grumbled but eventually settled down, though she kept a close watch over you, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign of distress. Despite her worries, the two of you finally managed to find some peace, her presence a comforting reassurance that you and your baby were indeed safe.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

"Shadowheart, can you come here, my love?" Your voice pierced through the calm ambiance of the campsite, pulling Shadowheart's attention away from her task of gathering herbs for your tea.

"Lover, I can't find the mint right now. Just give me a moment," Shadowheart responded, her tone slightly distracted as she continued her search for the elusive herb.

"Forget the mint, my love, come here!" Your urgency was unmistakable this time, tinged with a note of concern that made Shadowheart pause and straighten up.

"Just a second-"

"Shadowheart!"

Shadowheart sighed softly, realizing the seriousness in your voice. She abandoned her search for the mint and turned swiftly back towards the campsite. As she approached, a sense of foreboding gripped her when she saw the group of Sharran followers surrounding you, their weapons drawn and aimed at your pregnant form seated by the fire.

Without hesitation, Shadowheart's fingers flew to her lips and she blew a sharp whistle. In response, owlbear charged forth from where it had been roaming, roaring ferociously as it barreled towards the Sharrans with surprising speed.

Chaos erupted as owlbear tore through the Sharran followers, clawing and biting with unrestrained fury. Meanwhile, Shadowheart wasted no time in unleashing her divine power. With a swift incantation, she called upon her spirit guardians, ethereal forms shimmering around her in a protective aura of radiant energy.

As the Sharrans attempted to regroup and retaliate against the sudden onslaught, they found themselves thwarted at every turn. Any who dared to approach you were met with searing bursts of radiant damage from Shadowheart's guardians, forcing them to retreat or face obliteration.

Shadowheart enveloped you in her arms, shielding you from harm as the battle raged around you. Her eyes blazed with determination, her focus unwavering on ensuring your safety above all else.

Owlbear, now a blur of fur and claws, dispatched the last of the Sharrans with a final swipe, its victory growls echoing triumphantly through the campsite. The enemies defeated, silence settled over the clearing once more, broken only by the crackling of the dying fire and the happy chirps of owlbear.

Shadowheart held you close, her heart pounding with adrenaline and relief. She pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, her touch tender and reassuring.

"Are you alright?" she murmured, her voice filled with concern as she checked over you, ensuring no harm had come to you or the child you carried.

"Thanks to you," you replied softly, your voice laced with gratitude and admiration for the fierce devotion she showed.

Shadowheart's lips curved into a small smile, her gaze softening as she looked into your eyes. "I won't ever let anything happen to you,"

You leaned into her warmth, grateful, though something else was on your mind.

"Can I still have my tea?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

This was so so so so so so so much fun to write, I love the pregnant reader requests, hope you all enjoy it! - Seluney xox

[sinizade]

Pam, The Necromancer Druid

Class: Druid (Necromancer subclass)

Normal Tav (evil ending)

Romance: Minthara

Besties: Midnight/ Scratch/ Owl bear

Pam used to live with her parents in the middle of nature, as druids they always taught her the way of Sylvanus and his ways so that nature always remained in balance, but since then the girl has demonstrated a spirit that is indifferent to life beyond animals, people have always been the source of her main contempt no matter what race they are. The girl always used to stay away from even her own parents, preferring to stay among animals and, no matter how hard her parents tried, they could never make her comfortable in her own home.

Her adolescence was lonely as she decided that the best way to please herself and her parents would be to leave home, she started to live in small huts that she used to set up in the middle of the forest and honestly, she lived well without being forced to. to live with all the stress that I experienced when I was forced to live with other people. Most of her time she spent in her wolf form, hunting, helping them, being part of a pack. Talking to some wolves she managed to be convinced that her place was with the people, as much as they loved her and she loved them, she should go back to her people and try to have a good life beyond the forest. Baldur's gate wasn't pretty, it wasn't pleasant, the smell of that place made her want to vomit and there were a lot of people who looked at her as if she were some kind of monstrosity, of course, she was dirty, half-naked and aggressive, but it wasn't a reason to treat her. her as a monstrosity, but the real monstrosities emerged when she saw a ship in the sky.

Pam is now forced to live with this bunch of chatty misfits, the only one who doesn't lose her patience in that environment is Lae'zel who only says what is necessary so that everyone there can at least get out of this situation alive and without becoming Illith, but that sanctuary, those refugees... That made her furious, how dare those hellish creatures? How dare a druid tarnish the sanctuary like that? She needed to get them out of there, she needed to end Khaga's existence and at first allying with that drow seemed like a good option... She was charming Pam needed to admit that, but she would never forgive herself if she killed those hellish creatures for no reason at all. Your best option was to eliminate Khaga in the bud, killing her and the shadow druids who were on her side, as for Minthara? She wouldn't be a problem if all that goblin scum were dead so Pam just knocked her out so she wouldn't cause any more problems. Her conscience didn't weigh as much as she thought it would, she actually felt relieved and after that massacre in the Grove she received even more relief from Minthara who seemed to develop an interest in her.

Minthara was right, what would be the point of going so far and not taking something in compensation? What's the point of almost dying so many times in exchange for nothing? Pam understood that that choice would weigh later, but she couldn't- She shouldn't allow people to destroy anymore... Being the Absolute would give her the power to improve things in her vision, improve life, improve the forest, with her beloved Minthara by her side, Pam would now have the power to take it all and finally bring true balance to nature.

Some extra information about Pam

Pam's grandmother was a Nymph

Pam can use her blood to create any type of plant and managed to improve this by studying necromancy, starting to use the blood and bodies of other people.

Pam's first time was with Minthara

Pam has a pet crow named Midnight

I also made a small time lapse of this art and posted it on my Twitter in case anyone wants to see it!

[thechaoticdruid]

[We'll Protect Each Other]

Paring: F!Tav x Astarion

Plot: While staying at an inn in the Underdark an unfortunate chain of events forces Tav and Astarion to protect one another.

Content Warnings: Fiercely protective Tav, Tav uses She/Her pronouns, Tav is kinda feral and unhinged, blood, gore, threats of/ literal genital trauma, we are going game of thrones up in this bitch, sexual harassment, brief allusions to Astarion's trauma, violence, so much fucking violence, death, Tav is heavily based on my own Tav Winnie. Oh and a little fluff.

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

Tav hummed as she sat at the tavern table, glancing down upon the suspicious letter she'd received last night. 

‘I'll see you soon, True Soul.’

Been a while since she was called that, almost everyone who had referred to her as a ‘true soul’ was dead now so being addressed as such was rather peculiar, but at the same time not completely unwelcome. Tav smirked slightly, the idea of a new foe to face sparked excitement. It had been so long since the human druid had a good fight.  Since the defeat of the Elder Brain she'd been staying in the Underdark, looking after a horde of hungry vampire spawn. Her days weren't uneventful in the slightest, but gods did she miss adventuring. 

Tav's lover was over at the bar getting the two something to drink. Since the Underdark has become home to seven thousand life-challenged individuals this particular inn had made preparations to feed them should any appear at the establishment. He tapped his claws on the table, waiting for the bartender to finish mixing up their beverages as an uneasy feeling coursed through his body. Astarion had felt unfamiliar eyes on him since he'd left to get him and his beloved some refreshments. His blood red eyes darted back and scanned the tavern. Tav was still waiting at their table and mostly all the other patrons there happened to be deep gnomes, all who seemed much more concerned with friendly banter. But then he spotted someone off in the corner. A tall half-orc whose eyes seemed trained on him.  Astarion wasn't exactly sure how he didn't spot the big oaf sooner, usually he was far more perceptive than this, but perhaps his hunger had him quite distracted. The elven vampire tapped on the bar table impatiently wondering exactly what was taking the bartender so long. 

Eventually the half-drow barmaid brought over the drinks.

“Sorry for the wait.” She said softly, “not used to preparing food for our night time visitors.” The half-elf handed him a cold mug of dessert wine and a warm mug of ethically precured lifeblood.

Astarion took the drinks before turning and making his way back.  The half-orc then made his move, walking straight towards him.  

“Have a drink with me, handsome?” The half-orc gave a flirtatious smile, making the elf internally sigh in annoyance.

“No, I think not. My partner is waiting for me, you see.” Astarion gave a forced smile before attempting to make his way back to Tav. A large green hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Come on! Surely you're not talking about the little rat’s nest of hair? Sweetheart, I could show you things that little human wench couldn't even dream of-”

The elf quickly slapped his hand away. 

“Oh, I highly doubt you could show me anything I haven't already done myself. Now bugger off.” Astarion growled out the last part, barring his fangs at the orc before stomping off. 

Tav glanced up as Astarion took a seat next to her. He had a look of discomfort on his face, but quickly bushed it off as he noticed her attention on him.  “I'm back, my sweet.” Astarion smiled at Tav, setting their drinks down before planting a kiss on her cheek.

“You okay, doll? You seem uncomfortable.” Tav put her hand on his shoulder only to receive a small smile as his hand covered her own.

“I'm fine, love. Just a little annoyed by the wait is all.” Astarion squeezed her hand gently, not wanting her to worry. 

“Okay….” Tav said before looked back down at the letter, taking a sip from the wine Astarion had brought her. 

“What's that?” Astarion asked, sliding an arm over her shoulders before taking a sip from his own mug and internally sighing.

Rothé blood….

“Just an ominous threatening letter left by gods know who.” Tav said casually, nearly making Astarion spit out his blood. 

“Ah darling, perhaps you should be a just little more concerned about this?” 

“I'm not afraid. Let them come get me! I've been itching for a good fight for ages!” Tav clenched her fist, a wicked grin spread across her face. 

“Oh Tav, you know what that bloodlust look does to me.~” Astarion flirted leaning closer against his love. “But maybe we should be at least a bit more careful?”

“We’ve dealt with plenty of baddies before, Star. It’ll be fine!” Tav insisted.

“Need I remind you that there are only two of us now since the others have all gone their separate ways.” Astarion sighed, “I just worry for you, my dear.” 

“I know babe.” Tav planted a kiss on his cheek affectionately before saying,”I'll tell you what, once we get everything sorted out with the other spawn we'll recruit some new traveling companions and go after that ring of the sunwalker thing I heard about.” This brought a smile to the vampire’s lips. 

Large footsteps were heard stomping over to the table. Astarion glanced up seeing the half-orc from before approaching them.

“Sorry about my behavior before sweetness. I've just never seen such a breathtaking looking creature such as yourself. So, how about you ditch the runt and i'll take you somewhere we can get you something better to drink…. Perhaps someone?~” 

“Are you daft? I told you to bugger off!” Astarion snarled, glaring daggers at the large male. Astarion kept his arm around Tav in a protective manner, but it was more so for his own comfort truth be told. The half-orc was really making him uneasy. Tav could feel Astarion shake a little. 

“Hey, no need to be like that, I just want a piece of that tight little elven as-”  The half-orc was suddenly silenced by a scimitar pressed dangerously close to his groin.

“You really don't want to finish that sentence, big guy.” Tav said calmly, not even looking up at the green bastard. “You know I’ve been really itching to slit someone's throat lately, but you….I think I might have fun with you…” She said before finally turning her head towards him, a sadistic grin spread across her lips. 

“Y-You better watch yourself y-you little b-b-bitch!” He whined out the last part feeling Tav press her blade harder against his clothed crotch.

“Oh I like this!” Tav breathed out, voice unhinged and full of bloodlust as the half-orc began to shake in terror. “A big stupid creep thinks he can push me around just because I'm small…It's almost cute how pathetic you are. I should cut you open and show everyone what you really are inside. A gutless coward!” Tav stared at him intensely. The wicked grin spread across her lips didn't falter even for a second, until eventually she sighed.

“But it'd be rude to get blood all over Lyn’s nice clean floors.” Tav said, speaking of the half-drow bartender. “So you're going to leave now and never come near my lover again, or I'll cut your cock off and shove it down your throat. Understand?” Tav spat, nearly stabbing the blade of her scimitar through the orc’s pants.

“Y-Yes m-ma’m!” The half-orc said in a high pitch tone. 

“Good boy.” Tav pulled her blade back, “now get the fuck out of my sight.” She growled, causing the green creep to turn and make a run for it, slamming the door on his way out of the tavern. All the gnomes had seemed to halt their chatter and look over to the two lovers.

“Tav…” Astarion muttered in an irritated tone, “I didn't need you to defend me! I had that completely under control!” He fussed, clearly embarrassed because of the scene Tav had caused. 

“I'm sure you did sweetie, but you can't just expect me to sit by and do nothing when some pervert keeps treating you like a piece of meat.” Tav said calmly. 

“Darling that orc was huge! What if you hadn't been quick enough!? What if he comes back!?”

“Honey, I can literally turn into an owlbear.” Tav rolled her eyes. “I know you’re capable of kicking ass, Star. I have no doubt about that. But I don’t protect you because I think you're weak. I do it because I love you.” Tav said sweetly, placing her hand against his cheek. “And sometimes it's okay to need someone to protect you…” She looked down at his trembling hands. Fear began to stir in her gut, worried that he might have been triggered by the situation. Astarion simply place his hand over hers and relaxed into her touch. 

“I know. I love you too…It's just…I want to be able to protect the both of us…” Astarion glanced off to the side.

“You can! Babe, you're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for! You practically carried our team the entire time we were worm brained!” Tav placed a second hand on the other side of his face. Astarion rolled his eyes with a slight smile.

“Gods Tav, you're such a bad liar.” 

“I'm not lying!” Tav chuckled, “I'm pretty sure you have more kills than the rest of us combined! You're so stealthily and quick! The fuckers never saw it coming!” 

“Well perhaps I could be willing to allow you to win this little debate. Granted you continue to list off all of my many talents, or you can just call me beautiful and we can head upstairs for the evening?” 

“You're beyond beautiful, my Star.” Tav purred. 

        •~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The night was quiet as Tav and Astarion rested on the top floor of the Inn. Both of them snug in their bed. Astarion always had a tendency to curl around Tav as she slept and he tranced. However, tonight Tav lay there, eyes wide open. Her mind for some reason wandering off to a memory brought on by today's events.

“I assume he belongs to you.” The drow’s eyes leered over Astarion lustfully as she spoke about his as if he was nothing but cattle.

“Excuse me? I don't appreciate you talking about my friend like he's a fucking piece of property.” Tav snapped, stepping in front of her companion protectively. Of course she'd see him that way. The drow treat all their men like cattle. The fact didn't make Tav any less insulted. 

“Now now. No need to speak like that. I only wish to make a trade.” The drow said calmly, however her stare seemed to harden a little. “What is your name, spawn?” 

“It’s Astarion but hold on!” Astarion put his hands up as if to keep some distance between him the drow. 

“Astarion, I've dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a little girl.” She purred. Tav shot the drow a look which she ignored, red eyes locked on Astarion’s mouth.

“Let me get this straight, you want to be bitten?” Astarion asked, a look of confusion and disgust filled his face. Normally he would jump at a chance to sink his teeth into a willing person, hells part of him wanted to drain this bitch dry because of how she talked about him, but this drow pretty as she was her blood smelled worse than death itself! Just being in her presence was enough to make him want to gag! 

“To feel my life’s essence slipping away, to dance on the edge of death, yes I want it.” She said, nearly swooning. “I'll even compensate you. A potion of legendary power. It's not for sale, but it's yours if you bite me.” 

“I will have to decline.” Astarion said immediately.

“Excuse me? This is a once and a lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it!” 

“I gave you my answer!” Astarion spat. The drow woman ignored him and immediately turned to Tav. 

“Can't you talk some sense into your obstinate charge!?” She demanded.

“He said no. The hells do you not understand?” The druid snapped.

Gods, Tav couldn't help but think back to her first encounter with Araj the drow blood merchant. This incident today reminded her far too much of it. Except this time it might have been worse. The fucking orc actually tried to put his hands on him.

Tav furrowed her eyebrows and glanced back over to Astarion’s peaceful looking face. She knew he could handle himself in a fight, but the situation was different. These sorts of things really got to him. Tav ran her fingers gently through his hair. She needed to keep safe no matter what. Sleep took Tav eventually and she snuggled into her vampire’s embrace, enjoying the coolness of his skin.  And for a while the two were at peace, blissfully unaware of what lurked in the shadows.

It was probably about midnight when Tav woke up. She whimpered and felt around the bed for her lover, only feeling emptiness in his place. 

“Astarion?” Her eyes slowly blinked open and Tav sat up. She glanced around the room discovering the vampiric elf was nowhere in sight.  She tried to rationalize that Astarion was probably just up and around since he didn't need as much rest as she did, but Tav couldn't help but feel anxiety creep its way into the back of her mind.  She got to her feet before slowly feeling a dagger be pressed against her throat. 

“Nice to see you again, true soul…” A familiar feminine voice spoke softly in Tav's ear, causing her to grit her teeth as she looked back. 

“Araj? The hells are you doing all the way out here?” Tav sneered. 

“I needed to see you again. I require your help.” 

“I told you before, you aren't getting any more of my blood and if you even think of bringing up Astarion so help me-”

“This isn't about him, darling. This is about you. I am on the verge of something extraordinary, but I need one key ingredient. Your heart.” Araj slowly dragged the knife down her throat and down between her breasts.

Tav rolled her eyes before chuckling.

“Sweet, but you know I'm spoken for.” In a swift motion the druid slammed her foot down on the drow's own before grasping hold of her wrist and forcing the blade away from her body.

“You idiots! Get in here and help me!” Araj suddenly shouted, prompting the door to open, revealed two half-orc male’s and a female. 

With them was Astarion bound with silver chains wrapped around his body. Cloth was tied around his mouth, preventing him from speaking, but Tav could very clearly hear him whimpering in pain. The silver was burning his skin! 

“Now cooperate or else! I'll make sure our darling bloodsuck-” Tav didn't even give the drow a moment to speak any further before knocking the blade from her hand and slamming her fist into her face with enough force to knock Araj to the floor. Araj hit the ground with a thud, seemingly knocked unconscious from the blow. The druid’s eyes quickly went back to Astarion who was struggling and letting out muffled cries of pain, but despite this he looked far more pissed off than afraid.  That didn't calm the rage that was stirring deep inside Tav however, and the fact that the same gods damned perverted orc from before was holding onto Astarion's silver chains just pushed her over the edge. 

Without even thinking Tav dropped to the ground transforming into a huge direwolf before letting out a deep bloodthirsty snarl and lunging right for the familiar half orc. Her jaws sank right into his groin, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream.

“Bloody hells! Get that thing off of him!” The female half-orc shouted. 

“But the vampire!?” The other male orc replied.

“He's tied up you dumb fuck!” She shouted before turning to attack Tav. Tav yanked her head back hard, tearing a chunk out of the half-orc’s flesh and trousers. The half orc continued to scream as Tav spat his unmentionables out before he tumbled over and began to bleed out on the floor. 

“That crazy drow bitch better pay us good for this.” The remaining male half-orc muttered before charging at Tav alongside the female. 

Tav quickly dove under his legs before bucking him to the ground with her back and darting right for Astarion. Astarion shook his head as his wildshaped lover approached him with a doglike whine and sunk her teeth into his chains, trying to he them off him. She was only able to allow one of his arms to slip free. Astarion quickly tore the cloth around his head. 

“For gods' sake Tav! Look out!” He shouted, before suddenly the female half-orc slammed into Tav from behind, wrapping her arms around her in a headlock. 

“I've got her! I've got her!” The female orc shouted. Tav growled loudly before turning round and sinking her teeth into the orc female’s shoulder. In the struggle the two ended up tumbling down the stairs and out the front door of the tavern.  The half-orc male was about to run off after his female companion when suddenly he noticed Astarion had somehow slipped free from his bindings. The vampire’s skin was quickly healing from the burns left from the silver, and his eyes almost appeared to be glowing red. He clenched and unclenched his fists revealing sharp claw-like fingernails and the next thing the half-orc knew were icy fangs piercing his throat.

Outside the tavern, Tav and the female orc were still going at it. The half orc threw a punch to Tav's head knocking her back before she took out a blade and took a stab at the direwolf only for Tav to dart out of the way at the last second and take a bit at the orc woman’s leg. 

“You godsdamn mutt!” She yelled, kicking Tav in the face before plugging her blade into her back.

Tav howled in pain and backed up, blood trickling down her back and staining her fur.  She let out a pained whimper as she looked up at the half-orc.

The she-orc smirked triumphantly.

“Not so high and mighty now are you, druid?” She huffed starring Tav right in the eyes. Without another word Tav lunged at the orc with a monstrous growl, sinking her jaws into the green female's head. 

“GODS DAMNIT!!” The half-orc screamed. Tav sunk her claws into her shoulders as she stood up on her hind legs and dug her teeth into the orc's skull.  Then with a harsh whip of her head Tav snapped her opponent’s neck. The druid then released the orc, letting her drop to the ground.

Tav dropped back down on all fours with a sigh, panting a little from the fight. She turned her head and yanked the blade from her back. Luckily in this form she wouldn't actually be harmed. But she was honestly feeling far too tired to stay in her wildshape now. Slowly she transformed back, taking a moment to regain her strength. 

“A-Astarion…I-I need to get back to Astarion…” Tav told herself. 

“I'm afraid you won't be seeing him again.” Araj suddenly stepped out from the shadows, blade in hand. “I am not leaving without your heart!” She hissed. 

“Oh for fucks sake! Don't you ever get tired of being a psycho!?” Tav hissed, she quickly reached for her weapon, but this time Araj was quicker.  She stabbed her blade into Tav's leg making her freeze. 

“What….W-What is this!?” Tav sputtered, suddenly feeling her limbs begin to tingle and go numb. She tried to move, but her body just felt so heavy. 

“A paralysis potion I've been keeping for a rainy day. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to use it. I have no idea what affects it will have on your heart unfortunately, but I can't let you get away.” Araj stopped as she watched Tav whimper and squirm on the ground. The silver haired female wiped her blade clean off the potion before she then undid the buttons on Tav's shirt, exposing her chest.

“Now I'll need a nice clean cut. I don't want to damage your heart too badly.” The drow licked her lips before dragging the tip of her blade over Tav’s chest. “Just close your eyes and it'll be all over…” Tears began to form in the corners of Tav’s eyes, heart pounding so hard she was sure it’d burst right out before that damn drow bitch would even have a chance to cut into it.

“Get away from my Tav.” Astarion suddenly growled out, appearing behind Araj who quickly turned and struck at him with her blade. 

“Not until I have her heart!” Araj hissed.

Astarion ducked out of the way, unsheathing his own blade and taking a swing at her.  His dagger barely nicked the side of her cheek as she dodged, drawing a few drops of blood.

“Gods below, it's even more foul smelling than before!” He made a gagging sound.

“Mock me all you like! It won't stop me!” Araj took another stab at Astarion aiming right for his throat, but he quickly grabbed her wrists and pushed her back towards the ground. Now that he was free of the tadpole his vampiric strength returned and it gave him an edge in battle.

“You know darling, I think I may have had a sudden change of heart. I may just bite you after all.” Astarion said, forcing a grin upon his face. 

“What-” Confusion flickered over her face for a split second, immediately being followed by Astarion sinking his fangs into her neck, but instead of drinking her blood, he tore her throat right out.  

Astarion immediately spat out any of her blood that had gotten into his mouth before watching her drop to the ground, a twisted smile plastered over her face. “I-Incredible….” She choked out before suddenly coughing up an alarming amount of blood. 

 He quickly disregarded her lifeless body and swiftly moved to Tav who was still paralyzed on the ground. 

“My love, are you alright?” Astarion knelt down and cradled her head with one hand.

“I-I can't m-move….S-She got me with a paralysis poison…” Tav croaked out.

“Hang in there lover.”Astarion frowned, looking down at Tav with worry. He immediately scooped her up bridal-style. “I'm going to take you to Dalyria. She should be able to cure this.” Astarion carried Tav back into the tavern. Several of the patrons were whispering to each other. Some seemed deathly afraid of Astarion and his love. The vampire spawn simply ignored them.

“I don't think we're going to be welcome here any longer, Star.” Tav said as Astarion set her down on a sofa near the tavern fireplace.  

“Forget them, darling. We're leaving anyway. Now sit tight while I grab our things.” Astarion said, kissing her forehead before quickly going upstairs to get their packs. Tav sat by the fire, she could see the barmaid Lyn giving her an awfully ugly look. 

Good gods, it's not our fault we were attacked.

Tav rolled her eyes. It didn't take long for Astarion to return with their things.  Tav weakly nuzzled her face into his neck as Astarion scooped her back up into his arms. Tav stared up at him with adoration as he carried her out. 

“You did it, you know.” She hummed.

“What are you on about?’ Astarion glanced down at her.

“You protected me!” Tav exclaimed with a weak smile, “and thank the gods you did. I was sure I was a goner.”

“You give me far too much credit, my love. I still allowed you to get injured. You did a much better job than I.” Astarion huffed. 

“You kidding? You just saved my life Astarion and this isn't even the first time.” Tav insisted. “Look, from now on no more arguing over who protects who. We protect each other and that's final.” 

“You're being awfully demanding of someone who can't even move her arms, my dear.” Astarion chuckled, “but I am grateful all the same.”

He planted another kiss upon Tav's forehead before continuing on to meet up with his sister and hopefully cure his beloved’s ailment.

The two set off, leaving the tavern to deal with three battered corpses and a mysterious trail of blood…

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

Note from TheChaoticDruid: Phew! Finally got this thing out! Honestly despite finding her a very shitty person and absolutely despising how she treats Astarion I can't help but find Araj interesting. The whole thing with blood and heck the creepy shit you find in her basement makes me want to know more about her. Kinda went a little overboard with this in terms of violence I guess, but I kinda wish there were more bg3 fics with some action in them. Also, I may have kinda ignored how silver and vampires work in DnD, but BG3 plays fast and loose with lore so I guess I will too. Hope you like it!

[lunastrophe]

Drow Lore 🕷️ Drow Terms Of Address (part 2)

More terms of address for drow characters and (Lolth-sworn) drow - drow interactions. This time a few tips on how to address your drow lover in various types of relationships 🖤

🕷️ Choosing A Lover - in a Lolth-sworn drow society, a female always makes the first move. In theory, she is free to sate her physical desire with whatever partner arouses her attention. In practice, though, it is not always that simple. Sometimes things get complicated: when the person she wants has already been claimed by another female, or is subjected to someone more powerful, or is a member of a rival noble house, or (in case of females) has much higher station than her.

Drow males cannot choose their lovers, at least not female ones. In a Lolth-sworn drow society, they have no right to consent - or to refuse to consent, for that matter. They are simply taken by females and they are expected to comply and satisfy them, since rejecting (or disappointing) a female is customarily punished. It is not uncommon for females to torture or even kill their male lovers on a whim.

Typical (female) drow pickup line is probably something similar to kla'ath ussa, jaluk ('serve me, male').

🔹 Drow can refer to their lovers as: xi'hum ('pet', 'plaything'), seriso ('lover'), m'ranndii ('mate'), also mrimm d'ssinss ('female lover') / mrann d'ssinss ('male lover').

Mrimm d'ssinss means literally 'inspiration of seduction / allure / charm'. Both mrimm d'ssinss and mrann d'ssinss are terms that may indicate some dose of admiration - they also sound quite intimately, like half-purrs, half-whispers.

🕷️ Lover Of A Noble Female - matron mother's chosen mate is called ilharn ('patron'), but she is free to take as many lovers as she wants to. A male lover who is not the patron of the House, but enjoys the matron's favors, is called parzdiamo ('male playmate'). A lover of a noble female with more or less established status can be called zil ('consort').

Being attached to a powerful female is often seen by drow males as a way to raise their social status - patrons (or favoured consorts) usually have rivals seeking to undermine their position.

Males born or adopted into noble houses, especially the most talented or promising ones, are treated in many ways like their matron mother's property. Matron mother has the right to decide which females can or cannot have them, and she may even "borrow" the most valuable males to females of other houses - in exchange for favors, information etc. Such males are sometimes "borrowed" for breeding purposes.

🕷️ Lover With Feelings - developing genuine feelings for your drow lover may be a very bad idea. Such a thing is not only dangerous (according to drow, all trust is foolish), but it is also seen as unbefitting a drow and forbidden - and can be punished with torture or even with death.

It applies especially to female-male relationships (the fact that Lolth really, really hates her ex-husband may have something to do with this aspect of Lolth-sworn drow culture).

Drow do fall in love, though - very rarely and mostly with other drow, since they tend to perceive non-drow as inferior. According to Drow of the Underdark, 3.5e: "the sudden urge to consider someone else's well-being is a strange and frightening experience [for a drow]. Many drow react violently to love, seeking to destroy the object of their affections before they are further "corrupted" by the odd sensations. Those who don’t become violent usually make every effort to either impress or dominate the object of their affections, depending on their relative social standing. (...) for even the most loving drow sees little difference between intimacy and possession."

🔹 Drow can refer to a loved one as 'che ('loved one' - or at least as close as a drow term can get to the meaning of this word) or 'chev ('beloved'), or even quor'vlosara ('soulmate').

🔹 Drow can also use terms of endearment like ussta ssinssrigg ('my love / longing / passion' - ssinssrigg traditionally means all these things, also 'greed' and 'lust'), or ussta alurlssrin ('my love' - alurlssrin means unselfish, deep love; it is a term introduced to drow language by Eilistraeans, so probably not widely known in the Underdark).

🔹 (From BG2) ussta mzilst ssin'urn ultrin ('my most handsome / beautiful conqueror') - words of a female drow who has fallen in love with a man from the surface.

In a Lolth-sworn drow society, lavishing your drow lover with sweet words and tender gestures is something that should be done only in private - being discovered can mean torture and / or death for one or both of you.

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

[escxelle]

about astarion and love

"astarion would never buy flowers for you like wyll or wax poetry for you like gale" etc. etc. blah blah blah

i hear people say this all the time and they always say it as if that's a bad thing.

like have you considered that not everyone wants traditional grand romantic gestures? astarion doesn't offer a fairytale romance, declaring his love from the rooftops of a burning building but he does offer a loyal companionship, a soft gentle romance that's just as meaningful.

you can yap yap yap all you want but i got the line "i'll be here when you're ready. i'll always be here, my love" in the final camp scenes which, yes, does show his committment and loyalty to you. he doesn't kiss you in the epilogue but he does hold your hand and he says that whatever the future holds, you'll be facing it together.

because astarion needs a companion more than a lover and honestly if you say that he needs a friend more than a lover after he confesses to you in act 2 (before you defeat ketheric in moonrise), his reaction is so much more meaningful than if you select any of the romance options (imo at least). he cares more about your companionship than he does your romance so no, he doesn't do traditional grand romantic gestures that you see in fairytales but that does not mean he cares about you or loves you any less than any of the other companions do.

soft astarion does exist canonically in the game so it's not ooc. his softness isn't like the other companions because astarion's trauma is vastly different to any of the other characters in the game. and no this softness is not infantilising him.

if you choose to romance astarion then you've chosen a lifelong loyal companion, who yes, will sometimes most likely kiss and tease you, flirt and sleep with you but that is not the main takeaway from that relationship. he probably won't even tell you that he loves you that often (like in the actual game itself) but it will be in his actions and his other words.

even in the game, astarion tells you that he wants you to see him as more than sex because he has a very difficult relationship with sex and romance. hence why he will decline having sex with the drow twins, hence why he's fine with you sleeping with halsin and he even asks if it's because the two of you haven't had sex in a while etc. etc. there are so many other examples i can list here. and furthermore, if you do choose the "you need a friend more than a lover" option after his act 2 confession, he says that he's had countless lovers but he cannot remember ever having a single friend.

i personally headcanon astarion as demisexual and demiromantic (yes i'm largely projecting but shhh) maybe even aroace so that your relationship is more of a queer platonic relationship because his post-game scenes are focused more on your companionship than your love or sex life (and because of all the other examples i used). me having this headcanon does not mean that i am infantilising him either by the way, you don't have to have sex to be an adult.

anyway, i'm rambling at this point but astarion is so dear to my heart so it upsets me so much when people just boil his character down to "hot sexy flirty vampire" or say that his romance is boring compared to the others because he doesn't love you like the others do etc. etc.

soft astarion my beloved <3 and yes he does exist (and no for the third time, this is not infantilising!)

(fyi i am only talking about spawn astarion here, ascended astarion can go rot in a coffin for all i care)

[baldursgaysart]

Long lost!!!!

So, I finally got around to painting my Tav and Durge romancing Minthara. This took longer than expected but it’s been a long time in the making. I had my wife help write out my vision and backstory for them since I’m not very good with words. I hope you enjoy this! I was told it’s like an A24 poster 🤣

Tav and Durge Backstory:

Names:

Vierna: Light colored Tav character

Brimaia: Dark colored Evil Durge

Vierna and Brimaia are both reincarnations of one of the only truly loving and romantic relationships Minthara ever experienced after Ketheric Thorm’s trickery forced her into consuming an Illithid tadpole and altering the course of the rest of her life.

The events of Baldur’s Gate 3 are actually Minthara’s eternal Purgatory.

Vierna grew up as a noblewoman in Menzobarranzan, who was aware of the Baenre family, but had no real ties to it. She met Minthara in the goblin camp and was completely transfixed by the skill, prowess, and cruelty of the night warden. She fought alongside her as they both eradicated the once peaceful druid grove; proud of their accomplishments in the name of the Absolute.

When Vierna again found Minthara at Moonrise Towers, and beheld the terror and desperation in her eyes as she turned to meet Vierna’s gaze, she knew their bond was already so strong that they did not require an Illithid tadpole to read one another’s thoughts. It was written plainly on their faces. They needed one another.

For months the pair fought and slept together, ending the tyranny of Thorm, and allowing Minthara vindication after all she had been through. They gleefully stole away the lives of countless vile creatures, cultists, and would-be dictators, until they at last reached the Netherbrain.

Their companions were losing their life force and strength as they did their best to hold the Netherbrain back, and Vierna and Minthara realized it would be up to them to finish the job.

Just as hope seemed to be within their grasp, Minthara was hit with a near lethal blow from a Mindflayer. Vierna knew she could not allow her lover to die this way. Not to the very creatures who cursed her life in the first place. Boldly, she watched as the Mindflayer reached its tentacle out to finish Minthara off, but at the last moment she dove in front of her and took a fatal hit. Minthara had to carry on with the fight as the portal opened to her, with the knowledge that although the Absolute could never harm another again, she would be alone in the world once more.

What Minthara and the other companions were not aware of was the fact that all of this, everything they had suffered, had been a form of Purgatory. Every year they would lose consciousness as the Netherbrain careened into the Chionthar, but when they woke they would be right back on the Nautoloid, or in Minthara’s case, back in the goblin camp. Only something different occurred after the loss of Vierna. When a beautiful; dark skinned drow entered her sanctum, Minthara realized there was something different about her, but she could not quite place what it was.

Bhaal had played a cruel joke on Minthara by resurrecting her fallen lover as a monster known as the Dark Urge. It was not enough for Minthara to watch the love of her life die before her very eyes. No. Now she would have to brave Thorm and the Absolute all over again, while wondering every night whether her own beloved would take her life in a murderous blackout. Vierna, now going by the name Brimaia, however, would never lay a harmful finger upon her darling drow. She would much rather take control of the Netherbrain with Minthara at her side, and force all in Faerun to be subservient to their new queens!

[baldursyourgate]

honestly the frequency in which Minthara talks about her mother is... a lot, all things considered. Which is quite interesting.

I don't think I've come across any other drow character that mentions their mother that much. Sure, when you've just left your birth place where you've lived your entire life up to that point, it's normal to talk about your former place of resident and the culture, which also comes with the people but... mommy dearest?

no one:

minthara every 2 seconds: "In menzoberranzan-", "my mother-"

In game, we've seen her mention that her mother taught her how to survive the perils of drow society, how to "guard her heart from those who cannot be trusted", even going as far as attempting to kill Minthara to really drill the lesson deep in: even the one who once nearly died to save her from an assassin attempt could one day turn against her. There's no true trust nor unselfish love in Menzoberranzan.

And then in that same interaction, her mother gained new scars to heal from, courtesy of her daughter. It's definitely not wise to try and attack someone who was trained to be a Baenre soldier (insert navy seal copypasta here), but perhaps that one lesson is too important for Minthara's mother to not teach her child. Even if it means she'd be harmed in the process.

Love is making sure your beloved survives. Makes sure that they're tough enough and understands the treachery, the "drow way" of living.

Reminds me a lot of Zak and Drizzt's fight in Homeland. Only that the ending was different. Drow familiar love is fucked up lmao.

I haven't really seen drow mothers investing this much effort into grooming/training one of their daughter (they just get sent to school when of age or raised by their sibling when young, if they have an older one?)... unless the daughter is either A. the first born (see: the relationship between former Matron Mother Quenthel Baenre and her first daughter Myrineyl) or B. divinely blessed chosen or talented (like Yvonnel 2.0, or Liriel and Gromph Baenre) or C. genuinely emotionally invested in their child (like Zak and Drizzt - he thinks the only way his son could've survived is to know of the brutal "way things are" out there, even if it means he has to demonstrate it himself).

Makes me wonder what is the case with Minthara.

[tikvin]

Eshra's greetings and some banter

-39—-20(negative)

"Out with it"

(sigh) "What?"

(tongue click) "And here I thought the day was going well"

-19—20(neutral)

(slight smile) "Yes?"

"You wish to chat?"

"You have my attention"

21—40(medium)

"I am listening"

"You have something to say, yes?"

"How can I help, my dear?"

41—100 (high, exceptional)

"What is it, my dear?"

"Your secrets are safe with me"

"You look like you have a secret to share with me"

"What bothers you, friend?"

Flirty:

"Well-well, haven't my day just got so much better"

"My attention is all yours, dear."

"Ah, I do like the sound of your voice, you know"

Romanced:

(leaning in slightly with a soft smile) "Hmmm?"

"My, oh my, remembered of little ol' me?"

"Got tired admiring me form afar, love?"

(raising an eyebrow with sly smile, she looks expectantly)

Romanced (rejected Bhaal) Will include all of regular romanced lines and additional:

"Since I stopped hearing the song of your blood, your voice got so much clearer, my love"

"To be free, to be loved, what more could one ask for? Well, to hear your lovely voice right about now, I suppose"

"My joy, my heart, what troubles you?"

"My darling, I am at your service" (bows jokingly)

Romanced (lost to Orin)

(looks a little lost) "Ah—? Oh. Yes. What is it?"

(in solemn tone) "Speak to me"

(agitated) "What!?" (snaps out of it) "No— not like that— I'm sorry, haven't got much sleep lately. Did you want something?"

Romanced (accepted Bhaal)

"My most beloved victim"

"Oh how I crave to crawl under your very skin"

"I hear the song your blood sings for me so clear. Beautiful."

Banters:

Considering Eshra is more observing than prying type, I don't think she would initiate them much herself. Except maybe environmental ones and a bit of flirting here and there. I have just a few so far.

(Shadowheart/Eshra)

— "Do you dye your hair, Eshra?"

— "Hm? What makes you think so?"

— "I mean, isn't drow hair usually white or blond?"

— "Why, thank you for calling me special, my dear"

— "That's not— Nevermind"

(Eshra/Wyll/Gale. Underdark, after Eshra's amnesia revealed. Requires fighting at least 2 drow enemies, Minthara included)

— "Say, is drow hierarchy really as ruthless and strict as it is described in tomes about Underdark??" (G)

— "Gale, dear, I have no idea. Although the drow we encountered so far left only a bad taste in my mouth"

— "Afraid that you too did something cruel in your past?" (W)

— "Concerned I was a snobbish insufferable brat"

(Eshra/Tav Temple of Jergal or any temple ruins)

— "This feels familiar... somehow"

— "Hm? Were you a church worker?"

— "Of sorts, I think..."

(Lae'Zel/Karlach/Eshra on the elevator thingy on the way to monastery)

— "What a sight. We should stop for a nice little lunch, take it all in." (K)

— "Is the worm gnawing at your grey matter? We must find a crèche and be purified." (L)

— "Lae'Zel is right... A lunch after being freed from our wrigglers would be much sweeter, don't you think?" (E)

— "Chk. You're both are way too frivolous." (L)

(Minthara/Eshra shadow cursed land. Requires Eshra being recruited before meeting Minthara in act1)

— "So, my suspicions were correct."

— (sigh) "What are you talking about?"

— "The moment we met. I thought something isn't right about you. You look like a drow, but you're most certainly not one. So what are you, iblith?"

— "Careful, Minthara, don't make me regret not slitting your throat in that goblin camp, the moment our dear leader looked away."

— "You would've died in attempt."

That it for now! Will post more banters some time later.

[drowxiv]

Another shot I've been wanting to get for a long time. I'd tried drawing this exact concept multiple times but could never quite nail it, so it was very cool to see it come to life through gpose. My OC, Durafein was originally created by my partner but I've adopted him and occasionally explore his story with permission and lots of input from his creator. Durafein was a drow living on the surface disguised as an elf. He managed this with an amulet he inherited from his house, it was a subtle and unfamiliar magic that only seemed to react to his bloodline. It made him very difficult to detect without the use of powerful magic, and for the sake of his own survival, he tended to avoid those kinds of people. He had little interest in integrating with society and was content to survive on the outskirts, making money the best way he knew how - as an assassin. For his own safety he often kept others at arms length. Those who got too close to him usually met untimely ends, either by his hand or a rivals. Over the decades he occasionally struggled with the duplicity of his identity. When the lines began to blur and the lie began to feel real he'd pause to reflect upon his true identity. That was something he never wanted to lose.

[pursuitseternal]

“Possessing:” jealous, possessive Astarion in a double smut update for “Our Blood is Thicker,” featuring a first-time flashback 💞

Astarion x Cordehlia (F!OC) | E | 8.7 K possessive and first time smut

Summary: the Shadow-Cursed lands resurrect more for Cordehlia than an old enemy— more memories and griefs that Astarion can’t recall. If only there was some way to show Astarion their past… memories that kindle the same possessive desires of the past and new professions of… love in the present.

CW: angst, longing, jealousy, possessive Astarion, Kind Uncle Vibes Halsin, arrogant young Astarion, first time hand job, first time fingering, teenage sneaking for sex, inappropriate tadpole use if you squint, absolute feral rutting once the memory is done.

Previous Chapter | AO3 | Masterlist

Chapter 10: Possessing

🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️

Astarion could feel the rage building in his love, shuddering with tension off their leader. They all could. Waves of scarlet temper fluctuating as the Drow inside Moonrise Towers insisted on talking despite Cordehlia’s death stare… insisting on talking with Astarion. This Araj… as she introduced herself with the overconfidence of youth and privilege.

Cordehlia hated her already for both. And more.

Her companions held their breath, watching for those quick and deadly fingers of hers to reach for that shining dagger. And they all wanted to close their eyes the moment they heard the Drow, some expert in blood magic and potions, slather her attentions on The Spawn who pressed at Cordehlia’s side. “I’ve always dreamed of being bitten…”

“Uh oh,” Wyll bemoaned under his breath, taking the opportunity to grab at the she-elf’s elbow and whisper in her pointed ear while the Drow was busy making all her intentions known to Astarion. “Have care, for as much as you would like to run the monster throgh, it would not make things easy for us. Unless you wish to face Ketheric from the inside of a cell…”

“Or dead,” Gale added in her other ear.

Cordehlia gave a single, unwilling nod, rolling her shoulders and crossing her arms. Just as the expert in all things sanguine returned her dark eyes on the rest of them. “Can’t you talk some sense into your charge?”

Cordehlia’s fiery eyebrows raised slowly at that. “My charge?” she spoke between pressed lips. A wave of rebuke held back barely by their need to remain inconspicuous. “My vampire is his own being, he can choose who he bites, who he fucks, whom he loves, who he kills…”

“I’m sure he truly believes that,” the Drow laughed. Disparaging.

“Want a demonstration?” Cordehlia added quickly, a single corner of her mouth turning towards a smile.

“It’s alright, darling,” Astarion turned to meet her stare, caught somewhere between aroused and intimidated himself as it turned to lock those narrowed, hungry, enraged eyes on him.

“Oh, oh I see,” Araj gave a disparaging laugh. “You think he’s yours. All yours. I promise, I’ll leave your lover’s lower regions untouched, I only want a bite. In exchange, I’ll give you a potion so great, you’ll never find another like it in the realms…”

“I’ll thank you to never mention my lower regions again,” Astarion hissed.

“And he said no to you,” Cordehlia snapped, closing one step between her enemy and her beloved. “You can keep clear of us, Drow, of me, my companions, and my vampire. What need do we have of watered down power like blood potions when we have the blessing of the Absolute. I wonder why they keep you here at all.”

That made everyone behind her stiffen, every set of eyes scanning for enemies. Just in case.

But Araj laughed. “Fine, linger in your ignorance with your lover. Savor it while your bodies still haven’t burst into a mess of tentacles. See how romantic your nights of coupling are then… True Soul…”

Three sets of hands pressed against Cordehlia’s back then, but only one pulled her into his arm, tugging her along and back into the halls of Moonrise Towers. “Gods,” Astarion scolded her gently right into her ear as they paused on the outer walls of the tower, “your jealousy nearly got us all killed.”

Was he… angry?

She snapped her neck, turning to scowl right into his face. But that raging expression melted the moment she looked into his. He was so soft, so adoring, head tilted slightly as those crimson eyes widened and brushed over her face.

Until they rested on her lips, pursed tightly.

“That pleases you?” she managed to rasp as her tempers cooled.

“To hear you might just risk bringing the whole army of the Absolute down on us because some other female is pining for me to take a bite?” he smirked wickedly, completely possessive and naughty as his eyes looked to her neck. “And they say romance is dead, darling…”

Just as his palm cupped her cheek, tilting her face so close to his, her warm breath filled his undead lungs and coated his tongue with her taste… Gale cleared his throat.

Loudly. Distracting. Intentionally.

“Need I remind everyone that we stand literally on the precipice of the Absolute’s power? That Ketheric Thorm and his army are literally everywhere…”

“And all you two want to do is fuck,” Karlach burst in with a laugh. “I mean, it’s not a bad plan, it’s just not a plan to take down our enemies, soldier.”

Cordehlia rolled her eyes, gripping the back of his neck in her gauntleted hands. Unable to deny herself just a quick kiss, even at the heart of their enemy’s domain. “Fine,” she sighed. “We find the secret to bringing down this… General, but if anyone comes to try to take any of you from me,” she tapped a finger on Astarion’s perfect, aquiline nose, “especially you… they will find it very hard to think with a dagger buried in their skull.”

“Again, such poetry, such romance,” her vampire purred, his arms struggling to release her. Not that he wanted to either.

They made their way back inside the Tower, and thoughts swirled in Cordehlia’s head, the haze of memories beginning to pierce through that constant blanket of lust Astarion seemed to draw about her at all times.

“Right,” she huffed under her breath. “Let’s go find this imposter who calls himself the General….”

“Imposter?” a deep voice rumbled quietly as Halsin turned around. “How do you mean?”

Cordehlia stopped, the others continuing a few paces ahead. “Ketheric is dead, weren’t you there? Did you not fight in vain glory for his defeat alongside Harpers and Druids and Elves? Did you not see the countless souls sacrificed to put that monster in a tomb?”

“I did,” his pale green eyes scanned her face with all the wisdom and insight three-hundred years lends. “You speak as one who knows of such things yourself, young one.”

Cordehlia’s mouth shut tight. Locking her lips in silence, keeping whatever it was that simmered behind her silver eyes within her.

“I may have joined your band to help break this curse that darkens the land, but make no mistake,” he paused before turning to follow, “I will help do whatever is necessary. But to do so, I need to know more than I can read on your own wizened face.”

She shrugged, pushing past the enormous Druid to rejoin the others. “In good time, perhaps…”

But her words dried up the second she stood on the edge of the gathering in the throne room.

He was there. In flesh. Ancient, grey, undead flesh.

Ketheric Thorm, half-elf, great general, and dead no longer.

Cordehlia heard nothing as she watched with frozen horror the scene before her unblinking eyes. An ax, launched from the hand of some goblin about to be punished for their failure, sliced right into the General’s armor. His great, gauntleted hand pulled it free, as if it were no more than a dull knife in butter.

Immortal. Just as they all had said… back from the dead…

And as she tried to steel over her face and steady her nerves, she forced more of those shadows from her past deep down inside her. They would have to be ignored. For now.

It wasn’t until they were back on the shadow-cursed trails, sent to find the mysterious relic that granted the immortal Ketheric Thorm his power, that Cordehlia finally felt her tenuous hold on reality and on her past begin to slip.

It was a century ago… a lifetime ago, a time when she wandered between losing the love of her life and falling under the spell of bloodlust the Bone Picker loved. Before she found herself totally alone. Not-quite widowed, but decidedly orphaned.

And now, her feet traced the same paths and vaulting roots from dying trees he must have…

Her father.

She kept herself busy, hurrying at the front of the group as they moved headlong into the dark and cursed forest.

“We really should make camp,” Shadowheart commented, “there are many dangers ahead, and we wouldn’t wait to face those exhausted.”

“A wise idea,” Halsin affirmed. “We can get a new start with the dawn… or,” he grinned a bit sheepishly, looking at the lands cursed to eternal darkness, “…if not dawn, at least when we are all rested.”

A few laughs sounded from the group as they headed for safer ground. But not Astarion. And not Cordehlia. She gave that smile that didn’t meet her eyes, holding her shoulders slumped down as if she carried that massive, invisible weight. He could almost feel it himself, just by looking at her. Slowly, he drew nearer, falling within earshot. Within arms reach, should she need him.

But she kept her attention on the Druid, locked in as they headed up the path. “Halsin…” she added, voice shaking just a bit, “you… fought to bring Ketheric down… the first time I mean?”

“Giving up your claim of being an imposter?” the Druid teased, instantly regretting the jovial tone as he saw the lines of her face. As he read her pain. “What troubles you?”

Cordehlia glanced beside her, face easing to find Astarion at her side. First in her heart. Always at her side. “These… ruined battlefields, where so many lives were lost, you’ve been here, Halsin. Tell me, did you fight beside the elven hosts?”

Halsin stopped short. That weight in her voice flooded with knowledge. He froze, nearly mid-step. “I thought you looked familiar…” he commented, almost to himself, eyes scanning the she-elf.

“Why?” Astarion interjected, curious if not a tad bit defensive at the familiarity.

“Of course, Star Elf, red hair that shock of brightness. A temper to defy the gods. You’re the daughter of General Aquilae, aren’t you? You’re just as ferocious in battle, just as passionate and hot-tempered.” The Druid tilted his head, starting to walk again. “I am… sorry for your loss. Sorry his sacrifice must feel like it's in vain with Ketheric back from the dead…”

“Don’t assume to know how I feel,” Cordehlia snapped, chin jutting up, barely meeting the large male’s chest-height. But fierce in demeanor. “Sorry,” she relinquished, that defiance instantly retreating back inside her carefully crafted shell.

“Quite alright. You’re in pain, grieving. But even grief heals, all things heal. Nature will heal, as hearts will too,” Halsin grinned gently, “but it takes time and… many ways of seeking solace…”

Astarion couldn’t fight the way his eyes tweaked in suspicion, hackles raising at the informality. As long as it was his tent that her solace was sought for…

“Aquilae…” Astarion let the name roll off his tongue. Something inside his mind thawing, something creeping into the light. “Is that… your name?”

What normally would have made a tender smile come to her full, pink lips made them scowl instead. “For once… for once, it would be a boon to have you either remember your past, or not ask such obvious questions.” She bit at every word. Her shoulders squared at him, armored and taught.

Those crimson eyes narrowed at her, his mouth hardened into a flat line. An exterior of equal adamant to resist her anger. And to hide his hurt.

“Well, darling,” he shook his head quickly, derisively. “I apologize for my shortcomings,” his gaze darted to the Druid who still lumbered beside her. “And I’ll leave you two to… reminisce correctly, then.” The vampire pushed his way between them, heading for the bustling group as they hurriedly and anxious made a small camp, setting magic wards and torches against the Shadows.

Cordehlia’s heart sank, her stomach knotted, making her want to puke right there and then on cursed grounds, watching him stride from her so quickly.

That exterior of injured pride, that mask of indifference hiding his own pain. Pain she caused. Pain flowed from her own.

Halsin cleared his throat softly. “He means a great deal to you, the Elf. The others gossip about your past constantly. Your Wizard, in particular, seems rather… put out that Astarion has meant so much to you,” the Druid sat himself down on a log, the wood creaking beneath his sheer mass.

But Cordehlia was too uncomfortable to do anything more than sway in place as her eyes darted between her Druid and the rest of her party. Not as if she were watching for every pissed-off dart of her silver-haired vampire in the mix.

“I… believe I know your history, or at least as much of it as the rest do…”

She scoffed, fingers beginning to unbuckle her armor methodically, absentmindedly. “More than he probably recalls,” she huffed under her breath. “If only… things were easier. Not just the tadpole and the Absolute… but with him.”

“Nature does not have regrets, young elf, only growth,” he smiled slightly, his scarred face turning with that wise happiness. “Besides, for as much as you resemble your father, the General…”

“He still seems like the pampered, arrogant, devastatingly handsome son of our High Lord and Lady?” she sniffed, suddenly feeling the warm pull of those years, however ancient they may be.

“I suspected as much. Your father only ever spoke to us briefly, to the point, not unlike his formidable daughter when she feels the need…”

That made Cordehlia grin softly once more.

“He had said once, on the eve of battle, he regretted risking his daughter to lose another… that you had already lost so much of your heart, an engagement to the next High Lord ending in tragedy.”

Halsin paused, turning to follow her own sharp, unerring gaze into the mess of companions. Watching as her eyes followed her lover through the crowd, her whole being growing heavier with grief each second that passed.

He let her breathe in silence a moment, waiting for her to speak. At last, something seemed to ease within her. “He was my everything, Halsin. My childhood playmate, my first kiss, my… first of many things…” Her voice was steady, aching with grief and joy mixed into one weighty tone. “He defied his parents to ask for my hand, well… his weakness for planning ahead worked that once, for as much… shame as it could have brought on us both. But I didn’t care. I had him.”

“The son of the High Lord and the daughter of the General must not have been such a match to frown upon,” Halsin sounded.. wistful. Cordehlia wasn’t sure. But she turned to look anyway. “At least now, for whatever darkness you both have endured, you share in one another’s burdens. But you can’t fault him for how he has… survived his pain by pushing down his memories. They will return, in time, as all things…”

“In nature heal,” Cordehlia finished with a laugh. “You’re rather predictable, Druid.”

“Three-hundred and fifty years, and you learn the value of consistency, young one,” he laughed, standing from the log. “Now, we better return before your vampire’s jealousy turns its hungry attention on me as a threat.”

Cordelia gathered the plates of her armor she had removed, walking them towards camp. And then she paused. Cursing.

Of course… as it had been of late, since that night in the Emerald Grove, all her things were in… his tent. Her stomach sank. She… wasn’t ready to face him yet. Wasn’t ready for his chilled anger or his glare of simmering rage, or his little frown of hurt.

But she swallowed her dread and headed towards that stretched structure of red and rose fabric.

It was already so dark, just the flickers of torchlight dancing to show her the way. Pausing, her hand hesitated before it pulled back the flap so she could enter. Cordehlia swallowed, why was she so nervous, he night not even be inside. Might be out hunting… or helping… or…

Before any other thought could make her hesitate longer, a pale hand shot out at her from within, wrapping its cold, undead touch around her wrist, and dragged her inside his darkened domain.

His tent was blacker than pitch. Even for her elf-eyes, it took her a moment to adjust her sights. But she could feel him around her, grabbing her from behind, hand around her chin, arm clutched around her waist, as he pulled her within.

“I didn’t think you’d come, darling…” his voice chilled her marrow, all the jealousy she had imagined inside him biting his words. “Thought you’d be too busy strolling down memory lane with someone who could walk with you…” his lips pushed against the edge of her ear, nipping it with his fangs, “just as you’ve always wanted…”

“You know what I want…” she murmured, arching against the confines of his body.

“Hmmm,” he taunted, and she could feel his breath trailing down her neck. “I thought I did… I’m surprised that you’re here, not indulging in some time with your warm-blooded companion who knows you… and most likely wants to… know you.” His mouth sucked on her ear, “carnally, to be clear.”

“Tch, tch,” she forced her body to twist in his hold, landing the point of her elbow in his gut to make his grip ease. Savoring the little grunted “oof” he made. “Don’t think so low of yourself, my love,” she breathed, scanning the way his face twitched between suspicion and arousal. “As if I could take anyone else, now that I have you back with me at last…”

She meant it, every word. Those eyes soft with sincerity, those lips already slightly puckered to invite him closer.

But he still had too much jealousy gripping his undead heart, too much ice flowing in his veins yet. “You’d rather have someone remember, I know, someone who knew your name, your father, someone who recognizes the family resemblance of your temper to match your hair… someone who can match the… intimacy you seek with your memories in the same way they might with your delicious body.” He pouted, those full lips of his frowning in taunting disapproval. “If only there was some way for us to share thoughts and memories, mind to mind…” he turned to give her the full power of his gaze then, and it made her lose her breath with his beauty, his intensity. That rakish cant of his brows and the haze of hunger in his eyes.

Her brows raised slowly, her smile spreading. “What are you suggesting, Astarion?”

He let his fangs show, his hands gripped into the soft flesh of her upper arms. “Show me, show me everything. Use the parasite, link your mind to mine, for I’ll be damned if anyone…” he growled with a snap of his jaw, “anyone lays a claim to you more than me.”

“Why, Master Ancunìn,” she smirked, running the pads of her fingers down that sharp cut of his jaw, “jealousy does rather become you.”

He stiffened beneath his touch, the muscles of his jaw tweaking as he clenched.

“You’re… not just jealous, are you?”

His eyes cast to the side. Just enough hint of remorse, of regret and longing softened his face.

“I… can’t explain it,” he whispered, almost sounding frightened to let the words out. “All I have known for so long is to manipulate, to do as I was commanded, to use my body and bury my mind, my feelings so far down, I… forgot what it was to think or feel for myself.”

His hands began to wander, to stroke her smooth skin and taught muscles beneath her shirt.

“And then, I found you, or rather, you found me. You forced me to confront those parts of me I neglected in order to survive. You made me rediscover what it meant to want a person…to want anything for myself. Like how you almost tore the throat of that vile Drow today, just for assuming you could compel me to bite her fetid flesh.”

He breathed, that jealousy still crept close by, his fingers insistent on her flesh, even with all the vulnerability that flooded his voice.

“I… should say thank you, my darling, but I would rather show you my gratitude. Rather stand at your side as equals, knowing everything that makes you… you.”

“That makes us… us,” she added, a smile soft on her lips. Her hand held his, pulling him down along with her, sitting on the mess of his blankets and pillows he called a bed. Before he could even settle completely, she crawled in his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist, cradling his cheek in her palm. His eyes bore into hers, the intensity, the possessiveness, the curiosity burning bright in the deep red of his eyes. “What would you wish to see?” she asked softly.

“Show me your father, show me you… show me our first moments, our sweetest moments, our most sensual, our most painful,” he rasped, brows furrowed with his ardor. “I want to recall… everything…”

She paused for a breath, eyes closing as if she searched those memories. Finally, her silver eyes opened, her gaze was languid, distant, and desirous. “Open yourself to me,” she whispered so close to his own parted lips.

A single brow arched in humor, “That's my line, darling…”

Before she could tease him or roll her eyes, their minds smashed into one another, their tadpoles humming as the world around them instantly disappeared….

———

“What do you have to say for yourself, lordling?” General Aquilae stared at him with those piercing dark eyes. Sharp like the eagle, the bird of prey after which he was named. “Son of the High Lord, caught watching our daughter bathing, you know there will be repercussions even your parents can’t pull enough strings to free you from…” The warrior’s voice rumbled like thunder, towering over where the young elf male stood in his study.

But Astarion gave no ground, arms crossed over the pale green of his tunic, the golden threads of its intricate embroidery catching the firelight as night began to fall. His sharp features smiled slightly, his deep violet eyes dancing as he watched the warrior pacing back and forth, that silver shock of hair barely tamed, same as he was as a youth, barely more tamed than the willful elfing that ran about with his daughter.

And now… now they would be inseparable. They had to be.

“You know what you have done has sealed Cordehlia’s fate as much as your own, little lord?” the general added. His voice sharp, direct.

“I would hope so, Commander,” Astarion purred in reply, “I thought my affections for your daughter were on… full display this afternoon.”

General Aquilae pressed his thick fingers into his temples, rubbing them as if to ease a headache. “You know, Astarion, most young males court their intendeds with letters or poems or art or song… not their cock in their hand as they watch them bathing.”

Astarion shrugged, coolly and casually. “I have never been like most young males, Commander. You have always known that, as loyal friend of my parents, their faithful General…”

“You can leave your parents out of this, boy,” the general straightened. “What will you do to make this right by Cordehlia? Leave her to the shame you’ve inflicted? To the gossip and the ostracization of her peers?”

“I intend to make her mine, General,” he replied. Steadily, those hard, smirking lines of his face easing as his smile dropped.

The commander turned to round one more time across his study, his boots falling harshly against the wooden planks of the floor. Until he drew up short. “It’s close, but you need to be clear, Ancunìn. You’ll make her your what? Mistress, whore…”

“Bride.”

It was a simple word. Uttered so clearly, so matter-of-factly, all ears that heard it frozen.

Her father. And Cordehlia. The sneaky she-elf who peered through the smallest chink in the wall, who held her breath to hear two men discussing her future. But at that word, her heart soared, scared, excited, terrified and… something else she didn’t know. Something that stabbed her like a hot poker in the gut and flooded her abdomen with heat. She could see Astarion’s face perfectly from here; he looked so regal, so confident. So happy. Especially at making her father draw up short and stop, at a loss for words.

“Well, General?” Astarion grinned, smiling so self-assured, so cocky, “do you need me to repeat, sir?”

“No,” the older elf cleared his throat loudly and repeatedly. “Thank you.”

Astarion bowed his silver-tousled head. “If that is set arights, then perhaps I can break the happy news to my intended myself?”

“Firstly,” General Aquilae raised a single thick digit at the boy, “I will set you straight on this point, lordling. You are both far too young by the rights of our people to marry. Prepare yourselves for a long engagement, one where you had better show her nothing but the respect and devotion befitting a female of our status…” he narrowed his large silver eyes down at the boy, “even if it is still beneath your own, Master Acunìn.”

Astarion flashed a bright smile, a deferential bow of his head and shoulders, hand placed graciously over his heart. “On my honor,” he crooned, magnanimous in tone. Just like his parents. “The lady and I will wait for years, for decades, if that is your sage guidance.”

“Not decades, no,” he sniffed in rejoinder. “Don’t be so grandiose, boy. Five years hence at most until you may wed, unless any unexpected, little… surprises… come up in the meantime…”

Violet eyes wide, Astarion remained still at the implication. He swallowed hard, much to her father’s satisfaction. “Yes, General,” he murmured in reply. The meaning was clear enough.

General Aquilae almost laughed at the submission, the immediate effect of discomfort that smacked the boy across his pristine, handsome, and youthful face. It would be enough to scare the boy into caution for the time being. And that would be enough for now. “Allow me to fetch your intended, then.” He crossed towards the door, but paused when the boy gave that signature boisterous giggle.

“No need,” he giggled again. “Cordehlia already has her ear pressed to the wall, eyes peering through keyholes, I shouldn’t wonder…”

That violet, glinting gaze looked right at her… where she had one eye locked through the crack in the wall. A smile dancing on his thick, parted lips.

Quickly, she moved and held her breath, flouncing her gown and making her way as if she were simply strolling by the study door, a little book in hand as if she were lost in reading. Her father threw open the dark wooden door. “Daughter,” he ordered. No other words needed. His lined brow furrowed to see her, in fact, so close to his study.

“Yes, Father?” she lilted, tucking the book neatly against her chest as she folded her arms. “Is… is there something the matter?”

“I’ll let you find out for yourself,” he replied, walking out the door, “but no, nothing the matter.” His rough hand caught his daughter’s fingers from her book, giving them a tender squeeze before he left them to it.

Her heart raced, slowly turning to face that smirking youth in her father’s study. The one who went toe to toe with her father, and lived to tell the tale.

“Astarion,” she beamed, open and exuberant to see him against her better judgment to be coy. “It is late, you know.”

“No better time for a man to call upon his beloved, his intended…” he grinned, all feline and subtle, striding to shut the door behind her. “I don’t need to regale you with all the negotiations do I? You were listening ever so intently from your little hiding spot, weren’t you?”

“Of course,” she smiled, taking a few steps away from where he felt so close to her. Crossing, she sat on the little couch near the fire. And she regretted it the instant he sat immediately beside her. “I… I suppose I should thank…”

“Don’t,” he interjected. “Tch,” he sucked his teeth, a habit of his when teasing her lately, “I told you I would get what I wanted, Cordehlia.”

“And, what was that?” she forced her face into a blank, innocent expression. Wide-eyed and pouting, hiding the laughter that bubbled inside.

“You,” he slowly seemed to lean in. “Despite my parents’ plans for a marriage alliance… despite your father’s hesitations…” his eyes cast down the front of her down, scanning the intricate weave of laces and ribbons that held her in, even as her chest heaved with panting and her bosoms threatened to spill out the top. “Despite even your own thoughts of self-inadequacy…”

“Oh, I do not doubt my own measure, Astarion,” she chided in reply, “I doubt that I will be enough to satisfy you and your… ambitions.”

“Wanting great things out of life means nothing if I can’t share it with you, my…” he whispered, that edge of pretend leaving his silken voice. A single finger pressed under her chin, feeling her throat swallowing and her jaw bobbing as she nervously met his gaze. “Hmmm, what shall I call you now?” he grinned. “My friend seems too unromantic. My intended, my betrothed… those seem so cumbersome.”

“Something simple, sweet and flirtatious,” she smiled, leaning into the heat of his touch, more of his fingers beginning to sweep over her cheek. “Nothing too saccharine… just a little something… darling…”

“Oh,” he gave that secretive half smile of his, “aren’t you just darling? So sweet and yet deceptively strong… that hint of irony behind it.. yes. Yes, it’ll do nicely, darling…”

Her eyes darted away, feeling so hot, cheeks flushed and burning, his hand still holding her face. But that heat swirled in her gut, her mind still reeling over the events of that day, and while her skin was clean from bathing, her mind had turned to only images and questions that were so, very dirty. “So…” she paused, feeling his face drawing nearer, his breath washing over her. “What was it you were caught doing exactly?”

Astarion’s eyes flashed, wide and dilating as he stared at that impertinent grin. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean… I wish to know… what… you were doing while you watched me,” her voice grew quieter, deeper in her throat the more she spoke.

“I was… pleasuring myself,” he managed to say, watching her cheeks growing pinker and pinker.

“Show me,” she whispered. Her chin jutted out in that over-confident way of hers.

Astarion cocked his head, a single corner of his lip curving slightly. “What?” he drolled.

“Show me… what you were doing…” she whispered, eyeing the door shut beside them, pure mischief in her silver eyes. “Show me, please…”

“I do so like it when you ask so sweetly,” he raised his brow, grinning widely as he leaned towards her breathtaking face. “So refined and smoothed over your edges, and yet…” His fingers pressed on her chin, tilting her upwards and drawing her close to his lips, “I still see that willful, feral playmate of mine who never once treated me like the son of the High Lord…”

“Quit your stalling, Acunìn,” she snapped, smiling all the while. Her body was pulsing, hotter than the fire before them should have made her. Her skin grew tighter the more he touched her.

“I can show you,” he whispered, smirking as his eyes darted towards the door. “But I’ll not do it in your father’s domain. Not when I’ve just garnered his dissenting approval.”

Her breath grew heavy, her dress suddenly too tight. “Where… when…?”

“It’s your home, darling. Can’t you think of someplace quiet… someplace intimate…”

“The gardens,” she couldn’t reply quickly enough. “I can slip from my terrace, if you meet me.”

“Then I shall be there,” his voice was thick, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. It made her stomach knotted and fluttery. Made her skin burning and her blood pounding. Whatever it was she was about to learn, she could barely wait the few moments it would be to sneak away.

Then he kissed her, more than just the little pecks as children. More than the courtly press of his mouth on her gentle fingers. He spared her nothing, for she knew full well already the twist of his tongue around her own, the sucking of his lips and the clack of his teeth against hers. But this kiss, this devoured her. Sucked her breath and filled her tastebuds with him alone. Until she forgot to so much as breathe.

A loud footstep outside the door made them suddenly draw apart, the turn of the handle making Astarion shoot right up from the couch to stand coolly at the mantle, a chilled, contented smile on his lips as her father returned.

As if those lips weren’t just consuming his daughter.

“It’s late, Master Acunìn,” the General commented, always direct, always commanding.

“Yes, well, there will be many years ahead of us for goodnight and goodbyes, isn’t that right, my darling?” the young elf nodded his head to his future bride. Who, very wisely, kept her flushing face away from the sight of her father.

“Yes, Astarion,” she replied, all joy and music in those two words. “Goodnight to you both,” she stood to dip a curtsy. “I am ever so pleased with our arrangement,” she added, smiling as she made her way from the room.

“As am I,” Astarion replied, locking eyes with the General. “Goodnight, my future bride and father. I can see myself out.”

“So long as you don’t see yourself back in, boy,” her father laughed under his breath. A cold sort of laugh, wisened by experience past the machinations of youth. “You have years for that. The blink of an eye for our kind.”

Astarion nodded his head, eyes still fixed on his exit. Careful not to give away the racing of his heart in anticipation. Gratified that his instincts were sharper than the General, the aging elf whose eyes he could feel until the moment he shut the door to their home behind him.

It would be an easy deception, to head down the path towards the road and double back to the little garden. The moon was bright, and the stars even brighter. Hanging arbors of bright purple and rosy blooms covered the walls and trellises.

She had chosen well, a secluded spot, hidden and muffled. He watched her room, a little cutaway on the ground floor, as he had before. Her shadow moving in the light, the flicker of candles gutting out as he heard the door to her terrace open.

He peered out from behind the arbor, her eyes instantly setting on him, her mouth parting in a smile. Hoisting her skirt, she ran over the little tiled terrace, scrambling, almost vaulting over the balustrade to land in his arms.

“I can’t believe you did that, Astarion,” she panted, instantly pressing her lips against his. “You’re so much trouble…”

“Yes,” he breathed in between her moving lips, “but aren’t I just worth it?”

“Show me what you were doing and we will see,” she growled into his mouth, his hands already skating over the silks of her gown, pawing beneath the edges of her robe. His fingers traced down her arm, weaving into her hand. Pulling her, they reached the little bench, nestled among the hanging vines of sleeping flowers. All was quiet and shadow. The air was cool against their burning skin, the stone of the bench even colder as they slammed into it, tumbling down to sit side by side. Pressed so tightly together, her leg draped between his. His arms pulled tightly around her waist.

“First day giving me your word you’ll be mine,” he panted, “and already all you want to know is how to pleasure me?”

“Well,” she shoved him away, hand planted firmly on his chest. “I already know how to tease you, to best you, to anger you and calm you…” she tilted her head with a sultry, knowing smile. “I’m sure there is much I have yet to learn… and I am eager for you to teach me.”

“You’ve come a long way from flinging mud in my face and threatening to tattle on my father, darling,” his words tickled her cheek as he hovered over her ear. “If you wish to learn, this lesson will be completely… hands on.”

“Save your wit, Astarion,” she hissed, a smile on her face, her hands already straying over the soft fabric of his tunic. “Need I remind you, after today, you had the advantage of knowing the sight of me… all of me. I have yet to have the same pleasure.”

“All in good time, after all…” he pulled away to stare into her eager eyes, so bright as they caught the starlight, “we have years ahead of us now.”

His hand covered hers, sliding it lower, letting her fingers brush over his belly that clenched as he struggled for air. Astarion said nothing, just giving her that half a smile that made her blush. His eyes watched her face blanch as he moved her hand even lower, to press it against where he was hard yet again that day. Slowly, he moved her fingers up and down it, her mouth hanging open slightly to feel its length from where it met his pelvis to the tip that pressed somewhere down the leg of his breeches.

She swallowed hard. Her breath was harsher than ever. Than even after sprinting.

“Well,” he finally purred as he kept their hands working over him slowly. “I only saw the parts of you that glittered in the water above its surface, and I have never been more jealous of some dewy drops on your skin before.”

Cordehlia smirked, beginning to move her hand more freely, fingers tracing the rounded edges of whatever it was beneath. “Now poetry? I prefer you razor wit…”

“How about nothing more than the sounds we make all on our own?” he breathed, his hands pulling the laces from his breeches free. She felt it shift as the fabric released. That hard thing twitching as he reached inside. She couldn’t look away, the sight of him making her mouth water.

And her body even hotter than she had ever been in his presence, in his arms before.

She shut her jaw, clenching it as she watched his hand wrap around its width, watched as it jerked and twitched as he beat over it back and forth. “It’s not like you to hesitate or to balk when something is… hard.”

One hand shoved his shoulder, the other wrapped to join his grip around that… thing. She exhaled as she squeezed, the skin so smooth, the whole shaft so hot and pulsing with the beat of his heart. And so hard as he had joked. Rigid and silken, hard and smooth. Her touch straying towards its tip, she saw it dripping, little white, almost clear drops as she touched it. She swept it in her fingers, tacky and slick over that fleshy tip.

He groaned as she did so, and instantly she pulled away. “Sorry,” she hissed, her cheeks growing even redder in shame to hurt him.

“No,” he panted, grabbing her hand back to encircle that tip again. “The opposite, it felt amazing, the way you touch my cock…”

“Oh,” she smiled, reapplying the same sort of stroke over that little slit, feeling it seeping again as she touched him. “So…” she tilted her head, meeting those dilated, violet eyes, “…you like this?”

“Mmm, very much, even better than when I touch myself and think of you. The real thing is so much better,” he groaned again as she stroked harder, faster, like he had before. Head thrown back, he closed his eyes, savoring that no-longer-timid touch.

“What happens next?” she asked, somehow breathless herself.

“The best part,” he replied through clenching teeth. “Whatever you do, don’t dare stop…” he was growling, his hips raising as she kept that beat. He rocked on the stone bench, hands gripping into the edge. She watched as he contorted, seeming to be in agony, that cock in her hand growing harder and hotter, but she didn’t dare stop. Like he asked.

She felt it shudder in her fingers, his body clenching as he groaned. Collapsing forward, he kept shaking as noise after pained and panting noise came from his mouth. More of that sticky white drips shot from him, and Cordehlia held her breath, so certain she had hurt him.

A fear that was dispelled the moment she looked at his face now. His slack-mouthed smile, his eyes wide and glowing in the moonlight, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her against him. Lashing his mouth to hers, he muttered such sweet things into her lips. “That was…” he paused to breathe, “amazing. You were perfect. Better than I had dreamed…”

“It looked painful,” she replied, breaking away with a push on his chest again. Turning her head, she looked where the stones of the terrace were discolored and wet, where his cock still dripped a little more of that gleaming whiteness. “And you call that pleasuring yourself?”

“I assure you, he grinned, brows raising, lips quirking, “it is quite the opposite of painful.”

“Hmm,” she hemmed, skeptical as she turned to look back into that face.

“You look like you need some.. convincing…”

His hands wrapped around her waist, slowly starting to gather up the thin silks that covered her perfect, pale skin.

“I think I can show you, if you let me,” he crooned, mouth smiling wider.

“You’re going to teach me how to… pleasure myself?” Oh, she was so haughty, so confident and daring. Even when she was wrong, it was stimulating.

“Really?” She kept that hand firmly on his chest, even as her body gave her away, her hips sliding slightly closer as his hands pulled her skirts to her knees. “I take it this knowledge was not garnered from first… hand… experience…” she tested him.

“No, no,” he shook his head, smiling with reassurance, “I read it in a book, a most fascinating book…”

“So fascinating that it made you pursue release in… pleasuring yourself after?”

“Seems like you know more than an elegant, righteous she-elf should…” he touched her skin then, sliding two fingers higher from her knee. “You weren’t watching me, were you?” he taunted, fingers tracing back down only to dare higher beneath her skirts.

“No, that seemed to be your duty, my darling,” she laughed as she spoke, low and slick. Her breath came heavier. Her skin flamed hotter the higher he touched.

Then, she looked right into his eyes, all that taunting evaporated, her smile softened, her eyes wide and pleading as she could do nothing more than breathe and lean back even more.

And he kept touching, awed by that look of trust and… love. And then, he slunk those fingers beneath the thin line of her undergarments.

She was… wet. Hot. Those folds he had read about, observed in drawings… it was so much better now. But he needed more.

His other hand gripped her knee, pulling those strong legs of hers apart. A gasp tore from her throat as she let him. Her fingers clutched at the back of his head, locked into his hair as if she was about to collapse.

And then, his touch slid inside. Her eyes shot wide, her face contorting like his had, now she knew why.

He slid those fingertips back and forth, dragging that hot slick more and more through that seam. At last, he circled through that point at the apex, drawing his touch over that hard little spot. Just as he had read. But the way it made her clench and groan was even… more magnificent.

Her cheeks were so pink, her forehead beading with sweat. “What… is that…” she managed to speak, breathless and deep in her throat.

“Give me you hand, sweet Cordehlia, and you can tend to your own needs when I can’t be with you in the shadows.”

She obeyed, keeping that one grip tight around his neck. But the other slipped in to join his so quickly. Pushing harder, sweeping faster, his fingers tried to keep up with the way she was… touching herself.

“Gods,” he groaned, “how does it feel?”

“I… can’t…” she panted, eyes shutting hard as she groaned.

So he slid his fingers in deeper in… in her quivering walls.

“Ah!” she mewled, forgetting they were still in danger, forgetting anyone could hear them.

But Astarion didn’t care, not when she clenched hard and tight around his fingers, not when his cock was pulsing again, aching for another round of his own release.

She shook so hard, she almost pulled him down, her arm releasing instead to hold herself up. Her eyes looked at his body again, settling on where his cock still stood hard and twitching in his lap. “I want to watch you… watch you touch yourself while I…”

“Yes,” he growled, hand slipping from her skirts, rubbing that slick that coated his whole hand over himself. “Gods, Cordehlia,” he couldn’t keep his eyes open, not needing much more than a few more pumps on his cock to set him nearly off again. One last glance of her face wracked with ecstacy, the sound of her orgasm as she beat her own fingers into that hot slick he could smell… it was enough.

It was more than enough.

He watched as she bit her lips and screamed through them, hearing that wet squelch of her fingers beneath her skirt grow somehow wetter sounding.

She was divine. Worthy. Beyond compare. Worth all the wagging tongues of the nobles and disapproving scowls of his parents to make her his.

His.

And with that, he groaned and came again. Harder and more intensely than ever before. Spurting streams of his cum covered the tiles and dripped from his hand.

He looked at her then, her eyes glazed with lust, with sated desire and yet burning up for more.

He was hers as much as she was his…

And he would never be the same.

————

She released his mind. His mouth hung open, his breath ragged.

His heart warmed over, despite being dead, all fluttering and hot. Maybe a fragment of his soul returned to him, he wasn’t sure. The way her silver eyes beat open, that ember of desire in them from the memory of so long ago… it made him realize just how achingly hard he had become.

More than her blood in his stomach, more than the sight of her bathing… it was an ache in his groin and his chest that only one thing could satisfy.

And he could smell the same need between her legs, could hear it in the way her heart raced and rapped in her chest.

Swift and sure, her hands clutched into his shirt, grabbing him hard and pulling him. To make him climb on her body, to cover herself in the only remedy to quell her burning. She pushed his clothes off his skin, his voice reduced to a growl in his throat. Those eager, dexterous fingers ripped his own clothes off, relieved only once he was freed. Once they both were freed, nothing but their skin and desire to share.

“I was your first,” he rasped, crushing her with his body, consuming her with his mouth. “The first to know you, to touch you…”

“To taste me and pleasure me and have me…” she purred, “and I you.”

“And none shall have you like I have… like I do…” Astarion groaned, slipping his fingers into her, just as he had perhaps a million times before. Her arousal was so hot and plentiful, all resistance was gone.

As if her body was made for him. The same way a key can slip so perfectly into its lock.

After those memories, he wouldn’t be surprised if it were so. “You enjoyed learning from me,” he grunted into her mouth, the visions of their memories still flaring in his head. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she sighed back. Her hips bucking hard, riding each crooking touch he made deep inside her.

“Your little shakes of excitement, your wide, innocent eyes and pink little lips wet for me…”

“Yes,” she sighed again, arching and clinging hard around his neck.

“Your lips, your breasts, your honey-dripping cunt… Gods, I want to fuck them all, make every inch of you mine, make them swollen and marked by my bite…” he looked down at her then, teeth glinting as he gave a wide-mouthed grin. “Not the Druid, not the Wizard, not a single one that looks at you would doubt you are mine…”

“Astarion, I’ve been yours,” Cordehlia said, hands gripping hard as she shuddered, feeling her own juices beginning to gush around his fingers, his thumb commanding her with all the dexterity he plied, all the knowledge of her body he now recalled from centuries.

He crooked his fingers even harder through her orgasm, working and fighting against every time she bore down in ecstacy. Panting, she softened around him, beneath him. Yielding to every part of him, body and soul. “Your turn,” she rasped, face nestled against his shoulder. Her hand gripped around his cock, slick already from the drips that already leaked from its tip.

Hips bucking into her fist, his lips peeled back to bare his teeth. “May I?”

“Bite me a dozen times so everyone sees your markings? Yes,” she snickered, rubbing over his shaft just a little faster until he groaned. From her touch or her words, she wasn’t sure. But she loved it either way.

The base of her neck, the throbbing of her jugular, the crest of her collarbone… one after another he nipped and drank. Each bite making her fist clench so tightly around his cock, he had no choice but to let his body rut into her grip. His tongue lapped all over her own ivory skin, her crimson blood thick in his throat as she pleasured him.

That age-old touch that commanded him, pleasuring him as only she could. Thousands of forced lovers over hundreds of years, and for once, he reclaimed that feeling of intimacy, that near-first-time thrill he thought long dead. Making love to one he wanted. One he…

“I love you,” he whispered between her blood-dripping breasts.

“I have always loved you,” the reply couldn’t leave her lips fast enough. Her fingers gripping into the locks behind his pointed ears, pulling his dripping copper-tanged mouth to hers. Furious. Crazed. Matching that possessiveness stroke for stroke with her tongue, nip for nip with her teeth on his lips. Her hand dragged through the pooling blood on her body, running that warm, thick liquid over his cock.

Making him shudder as she ran her touch up and down it again. He groaned with that hot slick gliding over his length. The scent of her blood was too delicious to resist. “As fun as it was to cum all over you when we were young, I’d much rather be invited inside, my love.” He tried to sweeten his voice, but that play on his cock already had him undone.

She only chuckled, guiding him inside her so quickly, he barely could tell what was her fist and what was her folds until her thighs clenched tight around his waist, her hips bucking hard against his own. Riding him with every little bit of passion she had stored inside for him alone.

Possessing her for centuries. Making certain he never forgot now that he was hers to possess as well.

[spacebarbarianweird]

I know you probably have a deluge of requests, but may I add Astarion/Male Drow Tav headcannons to the list? SFW or NSFW, either one!

Ok, I usually don't do M!Tav but I think it would be a nice change since I mostly write fem!Tav (and especially OC Tav). Besides, relationship with a Drow is always an interesting gender dynamics!

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x M!Drow!Tav

You are that third son who is up to be killed since you can't be used even for giving your mother-matriarch more female descendants.

You were spared though and given to serve Lolth.

The day of your iniciation approaches and you know one thing for sure.

You will fail the Lolth test. You will be turned into a deranged monster, a Drider, and suffer from madness and pain till your long elven days come to an end.

You decide to run.

Besides, there are rumors about drow men who have managed to do that.

It takes you almost a year to find your way to the surface and you immediately get blinded by the sun.

You don't know how to make decisions for yourself, you are afraid of the Lolth curse, and you see spies and scouts in every Drow you encounter.

And you have no fucking clue how to lead this small party of weirdos you end up with.

You still try - you are so desperate to make it work, that you become a leader (and even think your mother would have been proud of you, after all)

Even though you are the smallest in the group (what, 5.2 is absolutely normal for a male drow! You are even called 'tall as a woman'!)

Astarion tries to play on your own insecurities, your fears, your anxieties.

Sweet words, praise. You don't need much to seduce a young drow.

But Astarion has one trait he hates to admit.

He enjoys taking care of others.

And he enjoys taking care of you - and he is actually ready to fight drows should they come for you.

It takes him some time to realize he, indeed, loves you. And he isn't sure how you'd take his confession.

Well, he expected anything but not tears.

But in the end, you forgive him and you end up together, promising to protect each other from evil.

Though, Astarion almost decides to ascend. Mostly because he isn't sure if a spawn can protect his beloved from Lolth.

He still makes a choice not to ascend and you end up cradling him through the night since he needs to mourn all the decades he's lost.

Once it's all over, return to the Underdark is out of the question. And you decide to get somewhere far enough not to think of your clan coming for your soul.

And somewhere Astarion can walk freely.

NSFW undercut

You are at the bottom. It wasn't actually something you'd discussed, you just ended up on your fourth in the clearance while having your ass pounded.

Sometimes Astarion is tender, sometimes he's rough - and you don't actually know what to expect from your lover.

Ever since his vampiric strength has returned, he often makes love to you standing. And the session can last for a very long period because he can't get exhausted.

Probably, the most embarrassing moment for you was when Astarion offered to give you a head (since you didn't finish).

The way your cock disappeared in his mouth and the way he maintained eye contact were unexpected, that's for sure.

Later, you asked Astarion to teach you how to give a blowjob, and you enjoyed the process much more than you initially thought.

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