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#while Astarion is like no I want to shell him
aro-tarot · 1 year
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I stayed up a bit longer since I finally got back to playing my gnome bard, my first character in BG3. Stopped the serial killer first since I heard you have to watch the long rests with that.
But then after I did Astarion’s quest. Stayed up a bit longer because of that.
And like, it’s one thing to watch the cutscenes in videos and to actually, like, play it. Even after seeing all the cutscenes, it still made me emotional watching it all. Can’t imagine how much more it might have been if it was my sorcerer who I’ve been playing more lately, and besides cutting a drow’s head off to deliver to be fertilizer, she’s more softer than my bard that started silly and started growing more caring as the story went on.
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bloodsuckingfiends · 6 months
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Need
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Summary: Astarion is desperate and needy, Tav takes care of him
Pairing: Astarion x Tav (gn!reader)
Warnings: nsfw, subby! Top Astarion, nipple play (male receiving), begging, praise, cream pie (so breeding if you squint)
Word count: 800
A/N: If this is in anyway awful, I blame it on the wine I drank while writing it.
It only really occurred when he was stressed, whether it be about the tadpoles, or Cazador, didn’t matter. He never explicitly verbalized it, but you had your suspicions that it came from the need to feel taken care of whilst still having some semblance of control in the matter. So after a long and arduous day of following dead end leads, that were supposed to be the answer towards everyone’s parasite, Astarion seeks out relief in the way that he’s rediscovering for himself. Which has led the two of you to seek each other’s comfort in the reprieve of his tent.
Your hands brush up his sides, pushing his ruffled shirt up and over his head, fingertips trailing back down his rib cage, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he discards it to the side. Astarion leans forward, guiding you to lay down on his bedroll, barely breaking the kiss that he had initiated. He needs this, his body craves it. To feel taken care of. To feel mindless, free to not think about the stress that paints each passing day of their lives as of late.
He sighs into your mouth, tongue curling around yours, wet and desperately searching. Searching for the heavenly distraction that is needing you. There’s the momentary press of his knee forwards, making space for him to kneel between your awaiting thighs. Your fingers delicately trail back up his sides before venturing across his chest, gently brushing against his nipples which earns a whine from the back of his throat and a cant of his hips against your own.
“You like that, huh?” you murmur against his plush, kiss-swollen lips.
He nods fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you continue to toy with him, gently pinching the buds between thumb and forefinger.
“Use your words, Star.” It’s no secret that this turns Astarion into a puddle before you even think about touching him anywhere else, and it nearly makes his heart beat again when you actively keep him present in the moment. That you make sure he voices what he wants in all of this.
He swallows, words barely making it past his lips before he moans, “Mmhm. Yes, I like it.” His brain is mush already, overwhelmed by your hands touching him so gently, and his painfully hard cock pressing against the confines of his trousers. You realize that the usually boisterous elf seems almost… shy. His cheeks and the tips of his ears ruddy with the blood he supped on earlier from you.
He drops his face to the crook of your neck, soft kisses press to your skin, just below the clotted punctures and faint bruise that he left earlier. He quietly huffs against your neck, mindlessly rutting his hips against the apex of your thighs.
“Tell me what it is that you want, my love.” Your voice croons against the shell of his flushed ear, fingers running through his soft curls.
”Please- need to be inside you.” He thrusts forwards, mindlessly seeking pressure against his arousal. Gods is he desperate, his voice on the verge of whiny.
“Take what you need.”
In an almost frantic state, Astarion strips the rest of your clothing off before discarding his trousers and undergarments. The moment his cock nudges against your entrance, he’s biting his bottom lip, stifling the sounds threatening to spill past his lips. He leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, face against the juncture of your shoulder and neck as he breaches your entrance, a soft sigh meeting your flesh. He almost loses himself, completely overwhelmed by finally filling you. Your very essence completely envelopes him, legs wrapping around his waist, one arm around his shoulders, and the other hand gently holding his head close.
Always making sure he knows, ”You’re so good to me Star.”
He whimpers, hips picking up and thrusting into you. One of his hands moves to grip one of your thighs, pushing it towards your chest to get impossibly deeper. All he feels is you, and all he wants is for you to only feel him too.
“Please- please let me come.” He pants, “Wanna fill you so bad.”
“Come for me, love.” You press a kiss against his temple.
A string of soft moans and whines leave him, and his flushed ears twitch as he empties himself deep inside, hips pressing tightly against yours so he reaches as deep as possible.
As he comes down from his high, he pulls out and rolls to the side, laying his head against your chest, “You didn’t come.” He states.
”Tonight was about you.” You tell him, fingers mindlessly dancing across his shoulders, soothing him further. All he deserved was to be taken care of
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vixstarria · 10 months
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What do you want to do with it?
My headcanon is that over the course of the in-game romance with Astarion, when you stop having sex in Act 2, he still pleasures Tav, but draws the line at himself being touched below the waist directly, gradually exploring and expanding his limits.
Up to you to decide how far in the game this might be appropriate.
18+, smut, Astarion x GN!Reader, Astarion x Tav, explicit, porn no plot, dirty talk, 'use your words', oral sex (male receiving) (kinda?)
Approx 900 words
AO3
Tags: @thisisew - I'm not sure this is what you signed up for, but this is what you're getting today.
All under the cut.
Astarion had just brought you to another climax, using his lithe, skilled hands.  
“I love doing that to you... Your moans, the way you arch against me...” He continued to kiss your neck and stroke your body, clearly not content to be finished with you yet. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered. You turned in his arms to face him and drew him into a deep kiss. Once he pulled away from you, he gave you an intense and sultry look. He looked like he wanted to say something but was hesitant.  
“Can we try something?” he said, finally.  
“Anything, if you think you’re up for it.” You tried not to sound too eager, your heart suddenly picking up pace again. 
“I thought we could put that tongue of yours to good use,” he grinned.
Oh? Just like that? Now? There had to be a catch, you thought. 
He took your hand and ran it down along his shirtless torso until it rested over the bulge beneath his pants. This was the first time you’d felt it with your hand in what felt like eternity.  
“Feel how hard I am for you? How bad I want you?” he breathed, hoarsely, maintaining eye contact. He held your hand there, letting you squeeze and lightly stroke his erection through the fabric. The material wasn’t nearly thin enough for your liking.  
"Gods, I miss your cock,” you found yourself saying. Astarion just chuckled in response, his lips curling into a playful smirk.  
“What do you want to do with it?” he drawled. 
“Mmm, everything.” You were caught very much off guard, albeit pleasantly so. 
“Be specific.” 
He guided your hand, controlling the pressure with which you groped him.  
Hmm, where should I start... 
“I want it in my mouth again.” 
“Details, darling,” he whispered, rolling onto his back.  
So that’s what it was going to be. Very well.  
“You want details on everything I want to do with your cock?” You flashed Astarion a devilish grin as you hooked one of your legs around his and sank against him, to whisper in his ear. 
“Every filthy little detail, love,” he breathed, pleased that you took the bait.  
“Nothing filthy about making you feel good like you deserve,” you purred. “First, I'd want to take it in my hand and stroke it, while I licked it starting at the base of your balls, tracing that beautiful vein that runs along its length with my tongue.” 
Astarion hummed approvingly. 
“Then, once I worked my way up, I’d lick and suck lightly just around the head.” Astarion laid back and shut his eyes as you continued to whisper in his ear. 
“Tease its underside with my wet tongue until you start leaking precum for me.“ You nibbled lightly on his earlobe as you said this, making him groan. “I'd lick it all up.”  
You were starting to breathe harder, getting carried away by your own imagery.  
“Gods, I want to taste you again,” you whispered, licking the inner shell of his ear. You were starting to grind against his leg. “Touch me,” you pleaded. 
“And distract you while you’re doing such a good job..?” he smirked, his breathing hard too. “I think not. Keep going.” 
You whimpered discontentedly but continued. He still held your hand on his erection, letting you stroke it lightly through the fabric.  
“Then I'd put my whole mouth on it, working it deeper and deeper in, inch by inch, until it hit the back of my throat.” 
“How fast?” he asked, starting to lightly roll his hips into your hand. 
“Slowly at first, running my tongue all around the head each time I got to the tip.” The look on Astarion’s face was of agonised bliss. “Are you laying or standing in this little fantasy of mine?” 
“Standing,” he whispered, without hesitation. You grinned at the certainty with which he said that. 
“Oh? With me on my knees before you? Is that how you want me?” you teased. 
“On your knees like the good, dirty little devil you are. Keep going.” 
“I’d cup your balls in one hand as I sucked you, playing with them.” 
“Like this?” he asked, guiding your hand lower on the bulge in his pants. 
“Exactly like that. Then I’d pick up pace, sucking you wet and sloppy, humming and moaning around you, until I couldn't do it anymore.” 
“Couldn't do it anymore? You’d give up after all that hard work?” 
“You are a lot of hard work, love. I'd need you to grab my hair and fuck my mouth yourself, as fast and as long as you needed, until you came.” 
“Came where?” his grip on your hand tightened. 
“My mouth, of course. I want to swallow every last drop of you.” Your voice dropped lower as you murmured in his ear: “Do you want me to look you in the eyes while I do it..? I will.” 
He groaned and pulled your hand away, pinning it over your head, as he rolled on top of you, trailing open-mouthed kisses up your neck, over your jaw and up the side of your face.  
“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?” he growled in your ear. “I’m going to be thinking about that ceaselessly. Until I finally let you do it.” 
“Good,” you said, biting his lip. “Now touch me again. I think I've earned a reward.” 
~~~~~
Hope you enjoyed, check out my other work
AO3
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bloodinwine · 8 months
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Bloodpop
Story Summary: It's Astarion's birthday and you made him a rather sweet surprise Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav ; Astarion x Reader
Warnings: 18+. Smut; Dirty Talk, Hair Pulling, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex
Word count: 2524 words
A03
Master List
It’s Astarion’s birthday….well, one year anyway since he reclaimed his own destiny and rejected Ascension for a life of his own.  A life with you. 
You spent weeks coming up with the perfect gift idea and even longer making it. 
It is near sundown, about the time he would be up. You’d adjusted to his schedule easily enough, but your excitement has you awake before him and you couldn’t keep it to yourself a second longer. 
“Astarion.” 
You run a hand down his arm. 
His eyes flutter open and he reaches for your wrist. He closes his eyes again and pulls your hand to his lips. He kisses your wrist, your palm, your fingers in sleepy, slow movements. 
A year together and the way he touches you still has you spellbound. More so, now that you’ve grown closer in love. 
“My star,” you whisper. “I have something for you.” 
“Mmm. Please say it’s you.” He breathes deep, his eyes still closed. He was always difficult to wake up. But he doesn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he parts his mouth slightly and slides your finger in. 
You feel his wet tongue press up against your skin. You watch as his lips purse lazily around your finger and he guides your wrist until they reach the hilt. The sight of him sucking on your digit sends a hot shiver through you. 
You try to focus on the task at hand, which is to give him his godsdamn birthday present, but then…maybe a surprise would be better. 
You pull your finger back from his mouth slowly and wet the bottom of his lip with his own spit. You relish in the way it makes his mouth sheen. 
“Keep your eyes closed then, love,” you instruct. 
His throat bobs from his low purr of approval. 
You reach into your pocket with your dry hand and remove a small candy on a stick. 
You peel the wrapper away with your teeth. 
You put your thumb to his lips, prompting them to part.
He doesn’t question it. He trusts you.  
“You look beautiful, my love,” you coo. You enjoy the way his pointed ears twitch at his favorite words.
“Are you ready for your present?” You ask. 
He nods, with your thumb in his mouth, the corner of it creeps upward into a languid, half-grin. 
Whatever is happening to him, he likes it. 
You put the lollipop in your mouth first, to wet it for him. Its taste is coppery, metallic, with a tinge of sweetness. It’s sticky.  It’s you.  A bloodpop. 
“Happy Birthday, sugar.” You put the now-slick treat to his mouth, in place of your thumb. 
You relish the moment his tongue touches the candy. His eyes shoot wide with surprise.  
He’s fully awake now. 
He blinks, then pulls the stick from his mouth, resulting in a delicious pop of his lips. He stares at the candy, as red and round as his eyes. 
He looks back at you. He’s shocked. 
“You didn’t.” 
You laugh. 
“I sure did.” 
He draws the sweet back in his mouth, sucking greedily, the stick fixed tight to the edge already stained pink. His eyes flutter with pleasure. 
“ Delicious .” He nearly moans between his suckling. 
Something about the taste of your blood springs him to life. He stirs upright, the silken sheet slipping to his waist. The hard lines that lead to his pelvis peek above the hem. He’s bare and beautiful and it has you licking your own lips.
You can still taste your blood on them. 
“You’re so fucking pretty,” you say, but it sounds more aggressive than you intended. You can’t help it. 
Your greedy hand grips at the sheet, you want to pull it down. 
You want to see more. 
Astarion’s eyes narrow at your clutching. They travel up your arm until his lashes lift and his eyes fix on yours. All the while, he works that godsdamn candy in his mouth in a manner so carnal that you’re almost jealous of it. He pulls it away slowly, the shell of it teasing his lip. 
“Come here,” he says. 
At his command, heat pools between your thighs. You can’t resist. You crawl across the width of the bed, cool air brushing your backside as your little nightgown hitches up past your thighs.
“Stop,” he rasps, as you come within reach. 
You oblige.
He bends low, his mouth nearing as if he might kiss you and you really hope he will. 
His lips are just a breath from yours, you can smell your own blood on them.  
“Turn around.” 
You don’t listen this time. 
“Astarion.” His name comes out as a whine. You try to close the gap between you. 
He pulls back, ever so slightly, and the distance deepens your hunger. 
“Oh, my darling,” he sighs. “It’s my birthday, remember? Do as I say.” 
You can’t deny his first birthday wish. 
Your face heats as you turn and settle on all fours. You’re all too aware of your half-exposed backside, but suddenly it doesn’t feel cold anymore. 
“Good girl.” 
Your knees almost buckle under his praise. 
Then it’s quiet for a moment. Too quiet. 
All you hear is the sound of his sucking on your bloodpop followed by a rustling of the sheets. You feel the bed dip as he moves. 
Without warning, you feel his cool fingers trace up the back of your thigh and slip beneath the hem of your gown. His touch trails over your naked rear until it settles onto the small of your back. The movement forces the end of your dress up to hang around your stomach, revealing you fully. 
“Such a pretty present,” he hums approvingly. You can hear his teeth click on the shell of the candy, as if he’s contemplating on what to do with you next. The sound sends a shudder through you. You’re not sure how long you can hold yourself up. 
A depraved part of you wishes you could see his face taking in the view of your slick core. 
“I can see there’s more to unwrap.” His hand leaves your back and cards through your hair, until he has it firm within his grasp. 
“My star, I—” Before you can finish your plea, he pushes your head down against the soft silks. You’re forced to drop to your forearms and lift your posterior higher; it slaps against him and you feel the hard shape of his cock tease against your folds.
You groan with frustration. You try to bring yourself up to your hands, starved for more contact, but he still has you by the hair. You’re pinned to the bed, his other hand steadies you by the waist. 
“Oh my love, don’t you know?” His murmurs are slippery around the candy. “Presents are meant to be savored, to be opened slowly .” 
As desirous as you feel, your body melts under his words. You know he won’t leave you hungry. 
He untangles himself from your hair, and even as he frees you, you remain still. Eager to please him. 
His hand presses more firmly down the nape of your neck and along the arch of your spine, leaving a hot trail in its wake despite his cool touch. It feathers over your ass, then he squeezes hard. 
Your breath hitches.
“Unravel for me, love,” he beckons. His knee slides between your legs and nudges them apart.
You do as he says, but your eyes sting from how painful your need is. 
“My, my,” he pauses to slurp, “what a pretty, pink ribbon.” 
Your body quivers from just how lewd his words make you feel. 
You hear the wet sup of his lips as he plucks the bloodpop from his mouth. 
Your brain is hazy with want and when his tongue rakes wide along your engorged clit, you clutch at the silks as a desperate sound escapes you. There’s a burst of relief that devolves into a ravenous thirst for more when he pulls away. 
Your hips buck to meet him once again, but his grip catches you around the waist and he flips you on your back. Your body bounces lightly. You gasp with surprise but you’re immediately silenced by the sight of him kneeling upright between your legs, drawing them up and wide apart. His hand, clutching the bloodpop, is settled on your knee to keep him steady and it dawns on you that he’s just as desperate as you are. 
His lips are stained a bright red, almost the same shade as his eyes. Your gaze travels along the lines of his chest, to the sharp angles that direct you to his throbbing erection. His cock is so hard and swollen, it almost looks painful. 
Your mouth waters at the sight and when you meet his eyes they tell you everything you need to know. 
He’s about to lose it too. 
You sit up to reach for him. 
He holds you by the wrist, as if to keep you at bay, but his clutch feels unsteady. 
You want to taste him so badly, you can’t help yourself. You know he wanted you to be compliant, but you were never good at following the rules. You press a desperate kiss to the sex line by his hip as your fingers reach to tease the tip of his cock. It’s wet with precum and you spread it gently over his aching head. 
Astarion’s body trembles and his head is thrown back as he groans. You let out a laugh, a hot huff against his skin, now wet from your kisses. You savor watching him come apart, there’s little else that satisfies you more. 
“Look at me, please ,” you ask. You ask very nicely. 
He staggers at your request when he brings his gaze down. His hand rakes through your hair as your kisses become more urgent and sloppy. You’re practically slurping at him, staring into his eyes as you do. He looks drunk, seeing how thirsty you are. Your own need is so ripe, you’re half tempted to reach down and touch yourself, but you’ve waited this long. 
“I want to lick your cock. Please, can I?” 
You might be the one begging, but you thrill at his wordless surrender when he nods his head. 
“Thank you.” You smile up at him and he nearly sways at your appreciation.
He’s so beautiful. 
It takes the edge off your hot desire when your tongue runs from the tip of his cock up to the base. He pushes back your hair and you crane your neck so he can see more of you. So you can see him. You taste the hint of his salty precum and you lick and preen at him for more. He smells of brushed sage and sweat and your own spittle. You lap at him as greedily as he did your bloodpop, but you refrain from pursing your lips around him fully. 
His grip tightens and you can sense his composure crumbling. 
You hear him whine. 
You love that sound. 
You pull away. “What’s wrong, my star?” you ask, playing dumb.
You are relentless. 
“I want—” He chokes out. His eyes flutter before they draw wide. A small laugh escapes him, seemingly surprised by his own petition. He looks down at you. 
You tilt your head, questioning. 
He takes a steadying breath when he lifts his hand to put the bloodpop back in his mouth. He hasn’t forgotten it. The lust in his eyes narrows sharply to something more animalistic with the hint of your blood in his mouth. 
You’re yanked back by the hair and your neck is turned upward to him. The aggressive shift sends a note of pleasure through you as you bite back a moan. His hand caresses your bare throat and his eyes narrow on your neck vein. His hold settles firmly onto your collarbone and shoulder until he has you fixed. Then in one swift motion, he lays you down on a slope of pillows and your head grazes the headboard. 
You barely register the speed in which he’s moved you when his cock, drenched in your spit, buries straight into your aching core all the way down to the hilt. 
Your hips buck on instinct, your needy clit aching for more friction, and you let out a moan so loud and obscene that he can barely drown it out with his own mouth as it crashes against yours. His tongue laps hungrily at yours and you can think of nothing else but the way he tastes as he slams into you hard, again and again, in long, even strokes. He growls in your mouth and the sound has you thrusting your hips up to meet him with the same speed. 
You feel your orgasm rising, clawing its way towards release. Tears leak from your eyes from pure rapture and your heart swells with how much you fucking love this man. 
His mouth rips away from you and you cry out his name in mourning. You’re almost scared he’s going to stop. 
But he doesn’t let you go, and he’s still driving into you. Your view of him is hazy from how fucked-out your brain is and the tears in your eyes, but you covet the way his cock plunges in and out of you, and how your wetness has him lathered and drenched all the way up to the root.
You hear him chuckle darkly between his panting. “You like what you see, darling?” 
“Y-yes,” you whimper. 
Astarion half smiles from the way he has you crumbling. Any second now you’re going to…
He brings up the bloodpop and drags it hard across the path of your swollen clit. You nearly scream from the new sensation, but when Astarion brings the candy, now dripping from your wetness up to his mouth, it’s the way he sucks at it that has you break. Your thighs clamp around him and your orgasm has you babbling incoherently as it rips through you. Your vision spins out, you see stars. 
Astarion pulls out of you and brings himself up to thrust his cock in your inviting mouth. You feel him hit the back of your throat and your mouth pools with his spend. Your core stirs again from the predacious moan that leaves him when he comes. 
He withdraws from you slowly, your lips pursing tight to suck and clean him off properly. He sighs with pleasure and collapses back, landing on his elbows. The both of you are completely spent and take a moment to drink in the sight of each other.
“Happy birthday, my star,” you pant as you lick away the remaining spend on your lips. It’s only the start of the day for you two, but you’re not sure if you’ll have much energy for anything else. 
Astarion chuckles and bites down on the candy, a final satisfying crunch. His eyes are blissed out, half-lidded from the afterglow and he smiles at you with bloodied lips. 
He looks happy . 
“Thank you for my gift, love. I won’t forget it.” 
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charmandabear · 9 months
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Yule
Summary:
While snuggling by the Yule fire, you forget just how sensitive elf ears can be.
Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 2.2k Tags/Warnings: post-game spoilers, cunnilingus, blood drinking, p in v sex, spawn!Astarion, soft!Astarion, fluff and smut, Astarion deserves to be bitten too
Read it on AO3.
Enough people said they'd still be interested in reading holiday-related fics even after the holidays, so here you go! Huge shout-outs to Idylla for their incredible art used in the banner. Their modern!Astarion absolutely ruins me.
Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve
Astarion curled against you as the Yule fire burned low in the hearth. You knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake all night, despite his insistence to the contrary. It amused you even more because, as an elf, he didn’t really need to sleep. But he had grown so accustomed to it at this point, snuggling up with you each night as you got your mandatory eight hours, it was a harder habit to break. 
You had only just put the most recent batch of cookies in the oven, but you were a little concerned for what would happen when you needed to take them out. Astarion was much like a cat in that way; if he climbed on top of you, it was a crime to disturb him. You could lay there forever, pinned beneath his weight, and you’d thank the gods for it. 
You peered down at him, sleeping so peacefully. He almost looked like a cat, pointy ears occasionally flicking at the warm air that emanated from the fire. You could practically see his tail swishing contentedly. Ever since killing Cazador and reclaiming his freedom, he’d been so drawn to creature comforts, looking for softness and indulgence in all he could find. 
You ran your fingers through his white curls, scratching his scalp absentmindedly. He shifted in his sleep, subconscious nudging him into your touch. You would sit here all night if you could, nails dancing over his pale skin while he slept soundly. You knew that eventually your timer would go off and you would need to take this latest batch of cookies out. But for now, at least, you could just enjoy having him pressed up against your side.
You stared into the fire as your hand wandered, gently stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck. You marveled at how much had changed in these past few months. Karlach and Wyll ventured to Avernus to fight on the front lines of the Blood War, and while you missed them, you knew you were only a ritual away from seeing them at the House of Hope. Gale had gone back to continue his studies in Waterdeep, and Lae’zel found herself living a surprising life of domestic bliss with Shadowheart, newly reunited with her parents. You haven’t heard much from Halsin, Jaheira, or Minsc, but you were certain that they were finding respite wherever they were. 
As you’re getting lost in your thoughts, you stopped paying attention to where your hand flitted across Astarion’s skin; that is, until you heard a breathy moan escape his lips. You looked down and realized that you were running the tip of your pointer around the shell of his ear. You pulled away suddenly, embarrassed as you realized you were basically doing the elf equivalent of teasing his nipples. He whined at the sudden loss of contact, and you sat frozen, unsure if he was awake or not. 
He stirred, legs squirming against a definitive bulge growing in his loose pants. He sat up and blinked sleepily, gears turning as he put together where he was. He turned to you and suddenly his eyes focused, pupils wide like a cat focused on its prey. 
“If you wanted something, you could’ve just asked, you know,” he said in a low purr, and you could feel yourself clench in response to the fire his words stoked deep in your core. 
“Sorry love, it was an accident,” you whispered, trying to sound cool but the crack in your voice gave you away. 
“Accident or no, you’ve made your bed, so I hope you’re ready to lie in it,” he said with a grin, fangs glinting in the firelight. He launched himself onto you, kissing you roughly as he tangled his hands in your hair. You tried to regain your breath as you kissed him back, your hands scrambling for purchase on his clean linen shirt. Your body bent back with the weight of his as he shifted on top of you, prying your legs open with his knee. An unseemly moan escaped your lips as he pressed his hardness right up to the apex of your thighs. You ran your fingers through his hair, though whether it was to regain control or just hang on for dear life, you couldn’t tell. 
Between the heat radiating from the fire, the slight delirium from staying up all night, and the way that your arousal for this man made your head swim, you could barely think straight. He continued to roll his hips into you obscenely, and you could feel the telltale dampness seeping into your small clothes. You spread your legs a little wider, trying to feel that delicious friction through the several layers of fabric that separated you. 
You broke the kiss to take in a gulp of air, beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. His lips migrated to your neck, flicking the tip of his tongue along the puncture wound that had only recently closed up. A shudder surged through your body at the sensation and you squirmed involuntarily, your body urging you closer to his. You rolled your head away from him, presenting your neck as a silent offering as you had so many times before. He needed no further invitation and sunk his teeth into the sensitive flesh, your simultaneous groans of pleasure mingling together in your ears. You knew you were courting danger by letting him bite when you were already woozy, but it was worth the risk for the good it did you both. He always became a little more powerful, a little more dominant right after drinking your blood; for you, the feeling of him siphoning just a little of your life force away gave you an unmatched feeling of ecstasy.
He detached himself from your neck and looked down at you, panting. The sight of him post-feeding always sent you into a frenzy. His cheeks and ears uncharacteristically flushed, his bloody lips in a sedate half-smile, hair a tousled mess, and a wild look in his eyes like he was ready to devour you. You could only imagine what he saw in return; your hair splayed out beneath you, eyes glassy, mouth open in a suspended moan as blood trickled down your neck.
He ran a hand down the front of your blouse and you arched your back to meet his touch. He was still pressed between your legs, your knees hooked around his waist. He ran a finger along the waistband of your pants, causing you to whine needily.
“Tell me what it is you want, pet,” he purred, the predatory cat out in full force. Your hips bucked up against him as you grasped at the rug beneath you. He looked so gorgeous in the orangey firelight, his skin soft and glowy. You pawed wantonly at the hem of his shirt, any semblance of speech leaving your body. He grabbed your flailing wrists and pinned them above your head, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.
“Your words, love. Tell me what you want,” he growled, a little more forcefully than before, eliciting another desperate mewl. 
“Ah- I.. Astarion,” you pled with him and he grinned, fangs pressing into your lips.
“Yes?” The word was a breathless whisper. He looked down the length of his nose at you, crimson eyes piercing into you.
“I want you to taste me,” you squeaked out, writhing beneath the hard length of his body. He pressed his lips to your ear just as he pressed his erection into your mound.
“Good girl,” he hissed, and pushed off your chest to slink downward to your hips. He grabbed your waistband and slid your pants down over your ass, dragging his cool hands across your heated skin. He pressed his lips into your hip and you arched into him, yearning to feel him on every inch of you. Your skin prickled from the heat of the fire, his contrasting touch making you shiver. 
He traveled downward, each kiss pulling a new and more debaucherous sound from your throat. His lips hovered above yours and he relished in making you twitch with need. After a second of teasing that felt like an eternity, he swiped his tongue along your slit and you groaned in relief. He dug his fingers into your thighs as he gently lapped at your folds, making you feel more heated with each pass. He spread your lips apart with his dexterous fingers, tracing lazy shapes with the tip of his tongue.
Your fingers curled into his hair once more, hoping to regain control of your cantering hips. He pushed his tongue deeper into you and your breath grew ragged, your hips begging to fully fuck his face. He relented to your control, letting you grind on his lips and tongue to chase your own satisfaction. Your cries grew in tandem with the pressure that mounted in your core, and this time when your hands wandered to stroke his ears, it was intentional. He moaned into your cunt, a deep, primal sound that sent vibrations directly to your clit, sending you over the edge. He buried his face into you as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, thighs squeezing around his head.
He pulled away once the pulses had subsided and you delighted to see his disheveled face, your juices reflecting in the firelight. He roughly pulled you up onto his lap, pulling your still sensitive swell down hard onto his erection. You moaned into his lips, sharing the taste of you with him.
“You saucy little minx,” he growled even as you could feel his smile through the kiss. Your fingers fumbled at his waistband, desperate to free him and feel him inside you. He peeled your blouse over the top of his head just as you released his cock from his trousers, tip already glistening with precum. Your breath hitched at the sight of it, your pussy already aching to be filled.
The length of his cock teased your folds, and he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, the pad of his thumb skating over the pert nipple. You threw your head back, raising your tits up with a heaving breath just so he could latch on with his mouth, suckling gently. Your arms around his neck, you danced your fingers close to his ear, teasing him as much as you were asking him for more. He pulled off your nipple with a pop and stared red hot daggers into you.
“Careful love. Mess with the cat and get the claws,” he warned in a low and dangerous whisper. He raised your hips up and pulled you down in one fell stroke onto his stiffened cock. The cry he tore out of you was your most obscene yet, but you were already so wet and hungry for him that you slid down to his base without resistance.
You began to ride his dick, your knees pressing against the floor as he stretched you out with every thrust. Now it was his turn to toss his head back, leaving his pale throat open and vulnerable. You sunk your teeth into the cold flesh, your dull human incisors not actually piercing skin, but eliciting a delicious groan from him nonetheless. He kept his hands squarely on your hips as you bounced up and down, relishing the slide of him along your inner walls.
You wanted to see him lose himself in you. You wanted him to come undone like you were. You needed more of those breathy moans in your ear as he unleashed the predator within.
You nipped at his earlobe.
Almost as though an external force possessed his body, he slammed you down onto your back without pulling out of you. He pushed your knees up to your ears and pounded into you forcefully, the edge of your second orgasm rapidly approaching. Your tits bounced with the force of his thrusts, and it took everything in your power to keep your eyes open so you could watch him unravel above you. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his red eyes looked down on you, positively feral. You could see his fangs through the soft o-shape his mouth formed as he came, his orgasm sending you crashing into yours. You could still feel his cock throbbing inside you with each burst of his seed even as your vision slowly faded into black.
You awoke a few moments later curled up on some pillows and a cool washcloth laid across your forehead. Next to you was a glass of water which you gulped down eagerly.
Astarion came back into the room, face still looking deliciously flushed and bitten, with a small plate of cookies. He kneeled down next to you and held one up to your lips, and you accepted the snack without hesitation. He pulled the washcloth from your forehead and kissed your cool damp skin, his lips almost warm in comparison.
“Love, you can't scare me like that. I thought I fucked you into a coma. If you're feeling unwell, say something,” he said, red eyes full of concern. You wave it off with a shrug.
“What can I say? Maybe I like messing with the cat,” you respond with a giggle as you bite down on your cookie, teeth bared playfully.
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avocado-writing · 5 months
Note
First, I am absolutely obsessed with your writing. I go feral every time I get a notification that you've made a post. When you pick a request of mine I've been reblogging it multiple times so it's easier for me to find it to reread. Please keep up the good work. You are appreciated. 💛
I was wondering if you could please write how the bg3 companions+ Halsin, Rolan, Dammon and Zevlor would react to finding out that a Tav/reader with considerable facial scarring has been harboring feelings for them, but has been afraid to tell them because they're afraid they will be rejected for their appearance; something that has happened many times.
I know it's a big ask, so if it's too much please just pick the characters that you want. Though, I would appreciate it if you included Rolan.
Again, love your works! Make sure to take care of yourself as you go through your backlog!
hello lovely! i've actually written something similar to this for the ladies, so I'll just be writing for the men for this one!
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Astarion
When he finds out you’ve been rejected for how you look, goes on a long rant about how shallow people can be (definitely ironic). Cue the “I probably draw more looks than you” line.
This is all to show you that he doesn’t care how you look. He fell in love with your kindness first, your actions.
Absolutely reciprocates your feelings no matter what.
Drops little affections every day. “You’re perfect you know.” “My love, you are wonderful.” “You have my whole heart.”
Gale
He admires your brain and heart. To him, you are perfection. Honestly he confesses to you before you get the chance to admit your feelings.
When you tell him you feel the same but were worried due to past rejections he reassures you it doesn’t matter to him.
But if it matters to you he will ask if it’s something you’d like to try to fix or hide with magic, and will take the appropriate steps afterwards.
He loves you. He’d do anything to make you happy.
Wyll
Starts trying to woo you with romantic poetry recited or written out and left at your tent, which you assume must be for someone else - it takes his confession for you to realise he likes you.
You have a long heart-to-heart discussing your fears about how you look, where he takes the chance to confirm his feelings aren’t affected by anything, something you desperately needed to hear.
Holds you close every moment he has a chance to, giving you little kisses peppered across your face.
Halsin
Is confused why you think he’d care about your scars? They’re a sign of your life lived, the obstacles you’ve overcome.
He points at his own face. “They are a mark of pride, my heart. Nothing more.”
Spends a long time holding you, whispering praises to you, especially when you’re making love. Nothing he likes more than pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear and telling you how lovely you are, voice gravelly with desire.
Will make you feel like the most treasured thing in the world.
Rolan
The two of you are skirting around each other for a while. You too scared to tell him, him too proud to confess to you.
Perhaps one day you have a bad experience with a stranger’s reaction to your face, and he finds you crying. Asks what’s wrong. When he finds out, he’s furious.
“I can’t believe they’d care about something like that. You saved this city, they should love you like I do.”
And just like that he’s said it, and you’re overwhelmed. Leads to him choking out his feelings for you, cheeks even brighter red than usual. You tease him a bit, and kiss him. He’s never been happier.
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feyascorner · 7 months
Text
10 | The Fangs Between Us
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summary. “The damage you’ve done to my stomach is plenty. Thank you, darling,” he frowns. “And if I may: It isn’t completely fair to place all the blame on me, is it? I might’ve been intoxicated, but I wasn’t deranged enough to miss the way you kissed me back. Aggressively, might I add?”
You roll your eyes. “I was trying to bite your lip off.”
“I would believe you if you hadn’t made such teasing sounds when I bit back.”
warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks, suggestive content!!!! (new warning hehe)
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
parts. TFBU masterlist
a/n. actual????? communication????? after 45k words?!?!?!?!?!? or is it...this chapter is literally them being loser teenagers i love them
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To you, his touch is like a drug.
His breath, cool against your hot skin, presses against the shell of your ear as something dangerously close to a whine escapes your lips. You can feel him grin as he lowers his head and places a long kiss on your collarbone. His slender hands slide up your back, grinding you even closer than you already are as he mouths at every nook and cranny of your body. It’s almost like he wants to consume you whole. To drink you until all that’s left is a shuddering mess, your body still begging for his own.
White curls tickle your chin as the strings on your shirt finally come undone. His tongue brushes against the peak of your bare breast, and your eyes meet him in a lust-clouded haze, lips pursed as you swear you could reach your peak just by the way he looks at you. It’s so intimate, so vulnerable, so pleasurable that your eyes half close when the palm of his hand smooths against your clothed core.
He stills, lifting his head to kiss his way up to your neck again. As much as you want to beg him to resume what he’s been doing, he doesn’t let you. Instead, his fingers bring your face to his.
“Don’t hide from me.”
You shudder. You think you know plenty with how flushed your face is, but he doesn’t seem to care. He lowers back down your chest, grinning as he lays his cheek on your skin teasingly.
“If you look away, I’ll stop, my love.”
“Are you insane? Of course, he’s staying here!”
You lurch up from your pillow as the earth-shattering reality of the morning sun blares you awake. Cheeks burning, you rub at the bags under your eyes, humiliated in the face of nobody but yourself, as you hear more voices from downstairs. None of which even try to keep it quiet. You stare down at your legs, lips pursed.
Only still half-awake, you can practically feel his hands on your waist.
Curses. What are you? A prepubescent teen?
With a loud groan, you force yourself onto your feet. Considering how your dreams will only add to your stress, you might as well.
“Oh, thank gods you’re here. Tell him we’re not taking Astarion with us to the celebration, will you?” Shadowheart hisses as you descend the stairs, still half asleep. “Our wizard seems to have gotten the wrong idea about the leech upstairs.”
You swear Lae’zel snorts.
“It was only a suggestion. I wasn’t sure if we’d want to leave him alone here…isn’t that merely an invitation for him to run away?” Gale rubs his temple with his thumb, clearly exhausted.
You’re fully aware of Astarion’s nightly escapes into the city, but you don’t tell them that. It’s better not to cause a panic.
Shadowheart shrugs. “We’ll tie him to the counter. Hells, we can just lock him into the basement.”
Gale sighs. “He’s not a dog.”
“He acts like it,” Lae’zel grumbles, sinking her teeth into an apple.
“We could ask the Duke to spare some of his soldiers for the night. Make them keep watch while we’re at the party,” Shadowheart offers. “Anything to keep that dirtbag here instead of there. Isn’t that right, Tav?”
Gale’s eyes meet with yours. There’s a sort of expectancy in them that makes you squirm in your shoes as they bore straight into your soul as if he’s aware of your deepest secrets. There are bags under his eyes, surely from having to balance Astarion’s less-than-likable presence with all his other responsibilities in rebuilding the city. A part of you feels guilty for the work you’ve dropped on him, but both parties know it’s for the best.
It’s been made glaringly obvious that you and Astarion shouldn’t be anywhere around one another. It’s only a recipe destined to end in a yelling match or…
Your cheeks flare. Last night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.
“We’ll keep him here. Lock him in his room like Shadowheart said,” You finally blurt. “Can you send the invitation back with everyone who’s going? I have someone to visit in a few minutes.”
“Very well,” the cleric smiles, obviously pleased with your decision. Gale only frowns. “I’m glad that’s settled.”
So are you.
You hear the door of Astarion’s room open upstairs and decide you shouldn’t stay any longer. After rushing goodbyes to your companions and another questioning glance from Gale, you scramble to fly out of the house, barely grabbing your bag in the process. The contents weigh more heavily than they usually do, and for good reason. Hopefully, younger vampires feed less than fully grown ones because otherwise, the squirrel you found the night before won’t be able to satiate Berry’s appetite.
It’s hard not to wonder how she’s doing for most of your day. You were initially planning to visit her last night until the unfortunate ambush Petras released onto your already sore limbs. Even now, you constantly rub at the ache of your thighs and arms. The healing potions did plenty, but they couldn’t do everything.
She must be starving, you think. You grit your teeth.
Fortunately for you, however, when you arrive at the Highberry residence, Berry seems perfectly fine. In fact, she’s helping her adopted siblings arrange decorative plants around the house, likely to liven up the place after what’s been happening the past few months. There’s a sense of calm here that doesn’t currently exist in your own household. The scene makes a soft smile pull at your lips, which is more than welcome.
“You didn’t visit last night,” the young girl finally says when you’re with her by the window, far enough from the siblings to be out of earshot. She looks up at you sheepishly. “I thought you might’ve gotten attacked.”
She picks at her fingers.
“Were you worried?” you stifle a laugh, and she shrugs, albeit flustered. “I brought you some—prey. You must be hungry.”
“Not really,” she still takes the worn sack and clutches it close to her. “I went out to find food by myself.”
At this, your eyes widen. “What? You left for the forest? You know that place is dangerous, Berry; it’s not safe for someone as young as you.”
“I’m a spawn. It’s probably safer for me than you,” she squints, and you can’t bring yourself to deny it.
“...You’re still a child,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Where’d you learn to hunt anyway? The last time I checked, you could barely fight off a few forest animals.”
Her face flushes red, but she huffs regardless. “The haggard taught me.”
“Hag?...”
“Your friend,” Berry perches either of her arms on the windowsill, staring out at the passing civilians on the street. She whips her head to you and points at either of her fangs, opening wide. “He’s been teaching me to hunt with these.”
“Astarion?” you blink. “He taught you? Willingly?”
It’s rather hard to believe.
“No, I had to follow him. By the time he noticed, he didn’t have much of a choice,” she says proudly, puffing out her chest. Then she deflates again as if she just tasted something sour. “He got two big bears last night but wouldn’t share…So, I had to get my own squirrels because he told me I’d starve otherwise. That old hoot is selfish and mean.”
Well, it certainly sounds like him.
“You could’ve gotten hurt,” you scold her gently.
“Maybe by him.”
You want to say that she’s wrong and that Astarion wouldn’t hurt her, but the blasted comb flashes back in your mind, and reality sits heavy in your throat. So, instead, you bite your tongue.
“Have you found any of them yet? The other spawn?” she pushes herself off the wall to stand straight.
“I did—if fighting them counts.”
Her face falls and a part of you regrets even alluding to what happened last night. She begins to fidget with the sharp ends of her nails again and stares at your shoes. “There’s too many of them.”
You’d most certainly know.
“We have the Fist fighting for us,” you assure her, albeit pathetically. Even in your own ears, you don’t sound entirely confident. “And besides, the murder count has been decreasing as of late. If we keep going at this rate, we won’t have more than a body every two weeks—”
“It won’t work that way, though. They’ll just keep coming back.”
Were children always this perceptive?
You’re not sure what to say.
She clenches her fists. “Not all of them are bad, you know.”
“I know, Berry. You’re not a bad person at all; it’s just that—”
“I meant the siblings,” she blurts, finally meeting your eyes. “Aurora…she was nice. She was nothing like Petras.”
Aurora?
You’re suddenly leaning down to her, shoulders tense. “You’ve met the other siblings? Since when?”
“Only once, months ago. Petras tried to convince the others to stay here with him, but they said no,” her brows furrow. “He was furious that day.”
Of course. Why didn’t you realize that earlier? Petras, Dalyria, and Leon were the only ones of the main spawn that remained in the city, and being so swept up with their antics, you’d forgotten to ponder on the motivations of the others. You swallow the dry lump in your throat as realization slaps you across the face.
“So not all of them want to go through with the ascension?” you gasp. Berry pauses but nods slowly. 
Help. You could ask them for help. Surely, if they don’t want another Cazador running rampant in the city, they’d be willing to stop the ritual as a whole. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek as your mind races. Were they even aware of what Petras was up to? How many lives he’d taken?
You take her hands to stop her from picking at them, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Berry, where are the other siblings?”
“They told Petras they were leaving for the Underdark like they promised you.”
Gods, bless this girl. Somehow, she’s been more helpful than any other resource you’ve had the past few months—including the Duke, and your vampire spawn. You’d think she might be a blessing from the heavens if it weren’t for all the other bullshit they’ve thrown your way as of late.
“Tell Cora I dropped by,” you smile brightly. Though it’s rare nowadays, you feel almost hopeful. “I’ll come back in a week. Stay put until then.”
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By the time you realize how much time has passed being cooped up on your bedroom floor, the sun is already setting. You reach for a candle, flicking a match against the box before lighting a flame to illuminate the pages sprawled around you. In anyone else’s eyes, you might look nearly hysterical, but to you, it feels as if the weight of the entire city is on your shoulders again. In a way, you suppose it is. Unless you want more than just a couple dozen bodies on the city streets in a few months, that is.
Your eyes scan over Dalyria’s drawings for what seems like the millionth time. And for the millionth time, you find nothing. Since the last time you obsessed over her journal, there have been a few additions to your collection: some books on ascension, vampires, and, for some reason, a book on vampire lords. 
You’re not sure you see the point in picking up this particular book, considering the spawns’ master is long dead, which means none of them can become a true vampire unless they were to ascend—the exact scenario you’re trying to prevent. But perhaps spending an entire day at the library blossomed a newfound curiosity within you. 
There isn’t much in there you don’t already know from first-hand accounts Astarion would recall on the nights you couldn’t fall asleep. There are parts, however, regarding the vampire spawn they can compel that lure your attention.
“Vampire spawn were the masters of stealth and charismatic cunning,” you read mindlessly. “...vampire spawn would seek vengeance on their creators.”
Vengeance. Is that what it was when he tried to strangle you?
Your jaw clenches, and you feel a sort of buzzing on your lips. What an asshole.
Quickly, you shut the book with a slam as you decide that dwelling on information you’re already well accustomed to is a waste of time. You’d likely be a better source of knowledge than the book itself because of how basic its contents tend to be.
You stare at the cover, which simply illustrates a set of fangs. Cliche, you think, but it’s effective.
The room suddenly feels too quiet.
Fortunately, the uncomfortably loud growling of your stomach snaps you out of your trance.
Shoving the book under your bed, you swing the door to your room open to pace to the kitchen. Hopefully, there’s some dinner left over from last night—-worst-case scenario, you have to eat one of those days-old fruits gathered in the bowl on the counter. You don’t have much time to ponder, though, because you hear a familiar groan from downstairs as soon as you reach the top of the stairs.
“Will you please stop leaving dead animals in the cabinet? As grateful as I am that you’re feeding on them rather than our friends, it bloody reeks, Astarion!”
Shit.
Astarion stares up at you with wide eyes on his way up to his room while you blink down at him wearily. Gale continues to mutter mindlessly about whatever trouble the spawn has caused in his sacred kitchen, but Astarion doesn’t seem to pay him any heed. You feel naked under his gaze, but you think putting on at least four more layers of clothing wouldn’t even scratch the surface of how you feel.
“Good morning,” he blurts.
He never greets you. Not like this, anyway.
It’s not even morning.
Fortunately, he looks just as confused at his words as you do.
Searching for a response that won’t come to you, you refer to the lamest solution. A scapegoat, if you will. “I need to walk past you.”
Astarion immediately nods. “Right. Yes, of course.”
He stands to one side of the narrow stairs, and you cautiously squeeze past him. Has it always been this much of a struggle to fit two people on the stairs? It’s terribly awkward as you shuffle by, holding the air in your lungs in hopes that he doesn’t recognize how uneven your breath is. You’re sure he does, but it was worth a try anyway.
Suddenly, Gale is standing at the bottom of the stairs in front of you.
“Where are you going? I thought you needed a healing potion for your stomach,” he aims at Astarion with a raised brow.
The said spawn coughs. You almost choke on the air.  “No, I—I’m alright now.”
“Are you sure? That bruise was pretty nasty, my friend. Letting something like that fester will surely only hinder you…”
Astarion closes the door to his room. Slams, more like.
You glance at Gale pitifully, who only crosses his arms with a sigh as he turns to return to the kitchen. “He’s moodier than I was when I was going through puberty.”
Wordlessly, you trail behind him until he resumes whatever dish he’s cooking up inside a pot while you reach for an apple. There’s a comfortable silence as you perch yourself on the counter, legs gently swinging as you chew, cringing whenever you feel a mushier part of the fruit. Gale lifts his ladle to his nose and takes a quick sniff before nodding in satisfaction. He then puts the lid over the pot.
“I’ve never seen Astarion as awkward as he was earlier,” he comments, and you cough.
“He wasn’t that charming in the first place,” you grumble.
“I never said he was charming. Just that he isn’t awkward.”
“Maybe he’s still drunk from last night,” you scoff, blood boiling at the mere thought of how he acted. A strange sense of pride spreads through you, knowing you hit him hard enough to do some damage, but you still think you could’ve hit harder. All those months pent up should’ve garnered far more strength, surely.
“Or perhaps it’s from the kiss.”
You do choke on your apple this time.
After you wheeze out whatever apple chunks were lodged in your throat, your head whips in the wizard’s direction. “Gale, you–”
“It wasn’t voluntary, I’ll have you know,” he cuts in, crossing his arms. “I just happened to leave one of my books on the couch, which I only wished to retrieve for my nightly routine of reading at least 100 pages.”
You’re at a loss for words. Your face deepens in color, even as you beg it not to.
“I, of course, being the most fortunate lad I am, had to walk into the room when his tongue was halfway down your throat.”
You nearly shriek. “There was no tongue!”
“Well, that’s certainly a relief!” he laughs. “I likely would have had to pry my eyes out with one of Lae’zel’s swords otherwise!”
On any other occasion, you’d bite back at him, but you’re too busy drowning in your own humiliation to register half of his words. A blessing and a curse in this case.
“It didn’t mean anything!” you blurt, even though he never really asked. “It was—he kissed me. I punched him afterward, too.”
Gale raises a brow. “Really? It appeared to me that you were kissing back, though it might have just been the angle. Quite passionately, too, but that might’ve been the trick of the light…”
You slap your palms over your ears, praying to the gods that he shut his mouth for once in his damn life. “It didn’t mean anything!”
“Does he know that?”
“He hates me! And he’s kissed hundreds of people—I doubt one stupid kiss even bothers him.”
“Yes, but it’s a kiss from you. His ex-lover,” Gale shoots back. “And he doesn’t seem unbothered. Neither of you do.”
“So what?” You know exactly what, but it’s difficult to acknowledge at the moment.
“Tav,” Gale says carefully. “If you’ve—by any chance—begun to grow accustomed to his presence again…and I don’t blame you at all, by the way. I’ve become rather fond myself of forcing him to listen to magic lectures that nobody else is willing to listen to; however…if it’s becoming something more on your end–”
“It’s not,” your tone is more stern this time. Colder. “It never will be.”
“Really?”
“Do I need to punch him again for you to believe me?”
“That’s not quite what I’m getting at. I just witnessed the tension between the two of you, and it would be irresponsible of me as a friend if we didn’t work through what you’re feeling before things start to get out of hand.”
You groan, throwing your hands in the air. “There is no tension, Gale!”
“Now now, I might not be the most experienced out of all of us in romantic affairs, but I’ve had my fair share of them. With a goddess, no less! It would be wise if you heeded my advice and discussed what the kiss meant to both of yo–”
You clap a hand over his mouth, words gritting through your teeth. “Stop saying it!”
His response comes out muffled against your palm.
“Fine, I’ll talk to him. I’ll go up to him right now and tell him how I’ll bury him alive if he tries anything again. Would that be enough to shut you up?” 
Gale smiles. You don’t return it.
The angry march up to Astarion’s room should’ve been enough to wake up your other companions, but it doesn’t. You knock heavily on his door, foot tapping impatiently as you glare at Gale, who stands halfway up the stairs, grinning from ear to ear in a pathetic attempt to be encouraging. It only makes you want to shrink into your shirt.
When Astarion fails to answer after multiple knocks, you decide you have no time for this. “I’m coming in. Please don’t be naked.”
The door doesn’t even have a lock. His room is empty except for the cold air that hits your cheeks. You realize that the window is swung wide open, allowing the moonlight to pour onto the wooden floors where he’s left his cloak in favor of what you assume to be usual nightwear. You pull the door behind you and cautiously step into his room, eyes glazing over the rest. It’s a stark contrast from your own. Despite how much time he spends in it, there isn’t a speck of dust or an article of laundry where it shouldn’t be. His bed is neatly made, his chair pushed into his desk, and if it weren’t for his books organized on his desk, you’d think nobody even lives here.
You slowly inch toward the window, running your fingertips over his books. They’re worn but somehow still well taken care of. You can feel how old they are, yet their pages remain perfectly intact, without a single crease on any corners. 
When you reach the window, you finally notice the vines growing on the sides of the building that protrude just over the window sill. You hear soft thumps from the ceiling, resembling the pace of his footsteps. Or at least, what do you think they’d sound like if he made any sounds while walking.
The asshole knows you’re here. Of course, he does.
With a wary glance at the vines, you firmly grip both hands on the roots and slowly lift yourself off the windowsill. Thankfully, the stones making up the building make for good boosters to haul you up toward the rooftop, even though your instincts suggest you’d likely fall and die an unfortunate death here. Still, somehow, you manage to haul yourself onto the roof's edge with a final groan.
You slump rather unceremoniously onto the angled edge, and the slight snicker from the other occupant of the space doesn’t go unnoticed. You glare at him, and Astarion only grins, leaning back on both elbows. “Should I have lent you a hand?”
“I can climb a wall, thanks,” you snap, crawling to a spot that allows you to lie back and stay a generous distance away from the vampire spawn. The tiles of the roof feel cool against your skin. From only two stories up, you can see a full four streets further than you usually can from your window, where only a few people now shuffle through the city given the time of night. While you think it should be peaceful here, all you can focus on is the undead individual lying a good few feet away from you, staring up at the sky rather than the city.
“As much as I enjoy all the colorful insults you throw at me, I was hoping for some peace tonight,” he finally says.
“This is my rooftop that I paid for. I’ll go where I please.”
Astarion sighs, his eyes still gazing up at the stars. “Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence tonight? If it’s about the dead animals, I’ve already told Gale I’d store them outside from now on—”
“Last night didn’t happen.”
There. It’s like a weight off your chest. At least, it should feel that way.
He stops, moving to stare from the stars to you. “And since when could you manipulate the very essence of time?”
“Don’t get smart with me unless you want another repeat of yesterday. Maybe I’ll knock out a fang this time,” you hiss.
“The damage you’ve done to my stomach is plenty. Thank you, darling,” he frowns. “And if I may: It isn’t completely fair to place all the blame on me, is it? I might’ve been intoxicated, but I wasn’t deranged enough to miss the way you kissed me back. Aggressively, might I add?”
You roll your eyes. “I was trying to bite your lip off.”
“I would believe you if you hadn’t made such teasing sounds when I bit back.”
This boils your blood just enough for you to tear your gaze away from him and back onto the city. “Just forget it happened.”
“Must I?”
“Yes! It was clearly a lapse of judgment!”
“It was,” he affirms. From the corner of your eye, you can see him put his chin against the palm perched on his elbow, fully turning on his side to face you. “An exciting one. I thought I knew you well enough that I could trust you would never kiss me again.”
You glower. “I was bleeding half to death—I was barely conscious. For all I know, I thought you might’ve been someone else.”
You can both hear the obvious lie in the statement, but neither points it out.
“I do wish you’d stop doing that,” he mutters, staring through lidded eyes. “It’s hard not to pay you any attention when you constantly smell like fresh bait. It’s like seeing an entire feast before you but being unable to have a taste.”
“Yes, because I wanted to get attacked by your brother.”
“Right. That.”
He stares up at the sky again. Hells, if he stares any harder, you’d think his damn eyeballs would fall out. His white curls blow gently against the breeze, and from here, it appears like nighttime was really made for him. Or do all vampires just glow during the night?
“For all it is, I’m truly sorry.”
Your eyes resemble barrels as you turn to look at him. He’s now occupied with his hands—those flawless hands of his that, by some miracle, don't have a single scar on them even after all the two of you have been through. Those very same hands you’ve once loved and that you’ve grown to hate.
“I, of all people, should know what it feels like to have someone forced upon me. And if I had any sort of control over my body at the time, I assure you what happened last night wouldn’t have happened.”
Though it’s not the main point of his apology, you find yourself focusing on the implications. He would’ve never kissed you if he was sober. You know this—you’ve known this—so why you’re so preoccupied by this confession, you have no idea. Internally kicking yourself, you steel your mind to remain calm. He hates you. You hate him. Simple. You only notice, moments later, that he’s still talking.
“---and I’m aware we aren’t on good terms,” he says, softer. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stoop down to the levels of the dirtbags I had to deal with for two centuries. I might have questionable morals about all else, but in that aspect, I’m unlike them.”
Still wide and unblinking, your eyes slowly relax as you soak in his words. It’s been a while since you’ve heard him so sincere (in a manner that isn’t insulting), and it feels like a breath of fresh air. For a moment, you want to deceive yourself that you’d never reached Baldur’s Gate. That you and your companions are still camping in the woods, and Astarion is still only learning to care for another. That he never went to Cazador’s palace, and you never needed to stop the ascension.
You would’ve indulged in such fantasies months ago, but now, they feel too artificial to derive joy from them. They feel too hollow. Fake. Like biting into a poisoned apple. You can sense him waiting for your response, and it takes a moment, but you manage to mumble it out. “It’s fine. I did kiss you back. We were both not in our right minds. Just…forget it happened.”
You don’t know how to decipher the look in his eyes, but you’ve long given up on how to do it in the first place. Because every time you think you finally understand him, it turns out to be a mask or a plot to deceive you. And every time, you don’t see it coming. It’s better not to try at all because it means he has no way to lie to you in the first place.
“Very well,” he says numbly. “It never happened.”
Both your heads turn to look up at the dark sky. The stars twinkle overhead, glistening in their own respectful glories. There’s one in particular that shines the brightest, floating right beside another that dims compared to all the other stars. It seems to drag behind the brighter star like a shadow, always following but never truly acknowledged.
You pity it.
“Why did you quit music?” he asks suddenly. “I thought it was…your passion.”
“I can’t see the beauty in it anymore,” you say simply.
Astarion hums. “A shame. I was rather fond of your lyre.”
The brightest star almost appears to move again. The darker one trails right behind.
You raise your brow. “Is this where you run off to every night? To stargaze? It’s pretty, but doesn’t it get boring?”
“It’s not pretty at all, darling,” he grins, attention never leaving the sky. “I watch every night, hoping that the dimmer star dies out before the brighter one notices it’s there.”
Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova @madislayyy @lordfishflakes @nicalysm @djarinsway @tinystarfishgalaxy @brainz00 @hopeful-n-sad @ohdeerieme @madisban @chrismarium @chonkercatto @fanfic-share @bitterbeanren @sleepyred1703 @miskouly @ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm @divineknightmare @bangtanbecks @carolinelec @aelieknox @bluelovesleep @catching-fire-in-the-wind @moonlight-stay @thatbeanieboss @atotalmess-lol @lavender-romancer
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roguishcat · 3 months
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🦇 Batstarion week - Day 7🦇
Day 1 - Falling asleep in unusual places, Day 2 - Cuteness aggression, Day 3 - High fashion, Day 4 - Cameo with another character, Day 5 - Feeding your Batstation, Day 6 - Bat cuddles
Day 7 – Any prompt (I decided to go with my version of Happily Ever After)
Astarion looked at his lover. Hair tousled, you lay on lightly crumpled bedsheets, one arm on the pillow whilst the bat lounged on the other. So unkempt, so disheveled, and so very precious to him.
Rising gently and being mindful of his claws so as to not to wake you up, Astarion crawled on his elbows until he reached the hollow at the base of your neck. With a content sigh, he made himself comfortable, pushing his snout against your skin. Inhaling deeply, he flicked his tongue out for a taste, feeling snackish but not wanting to disturb your sleep.
“Mm? Star?”
Astarion stilled. Beady eyes flicked to your face as you stirred and raised your hand to tickle his side. He chittered and nipped at the offending fingers. He would not permit such treatment even from his love!
And then you felt a gust of magic as Astarion’s hands grasped yours, holding you down against the bed.
“Tsk, cheeky pup. Attacking me when I can’t retaliate,” he admonished you playfully, kissing the side of your mouth.
“What can I say? I don’t play fair,” you giggled and tried to get away from him only to have Astarion reposition himself to pin you down completely.
“Good. Neither do I,” he said, cool breath ghosting over the shell of your ear and making you shiver.
“I have to admit,” you smiled as he slowly kissed his way down, “that although you make an adorable bat, I missed spending time with you.”
“Darling, I’ve been around you constantly,” he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“I know.”
He paused, looking up and into your eyes.
“I admit, perhaps I got a bit carried away. I could not help but enjoy the advantages.”
“You just like being waited on hand and foot,” you snorted.
“How dare you! Are you insinuating that I’ve not been helpful?”
“I am stating it outright,” you smiled. “You’ve been a lazy little bat.”
“Little?” He lifted his eyebrows. “Well… perhaps that form is small. However,” he thrust his hips forward, making you bite your lip to stifle a moan, “I am not.”
And this was the last thing you said to each other for a while. However, the suggestive sounds emanating from inside your bedroom – a growl, a groan, a gasp -and a happy sigh could only mean one thing.
Happily ever after.
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mashiraostail · 3 months
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"i got you something" with Astarion please!! maybe fluffy ??
I luv writing fluffy Astarion hes the best
You were poking a stick through the pile of dirt you’d made in front of you, you threw some rocks at it. You started to build it up again, not caring about the dirt under your nails, you lean to sit against a tree to be more comfortable as you dig and drag the twig through the exposed Earth. 
“Why the long face?” You hear Astarions voice behind you.
“Who said I have a long face? You can't even see me."
“You’re playing with a stick in the dirt.”
“Fair enough..” You drop the stick and sit up, “I'm just bored.” 
“Ah.” He winds his path around the tree and stands beside you. 
“We’ll be in the city proper in a few days.” He nudges your shoulder with his leg, “are you…excited?”
“Making small talk?” You look up at him, “are you about to sprout tentacles?”
“I asked a question.” He deadpans, “shoot me.”
“I am excited.” You snort and lean a bit of weight on him, “I’m sure once we get there I won’t be excited anymore. But the thought is nice. Are you excited to see it in the daytime?” 
“You know,” Astarion elects to sit beside you, “I think I am.”
“That’s good. It’s good to be excited. I remember when I was younger I would steal these lemon tarts from this sweet shop near the lower city. They were like my favorite thing in the world. The idea of even seeing that place now excites me. It's a good memory, and I don't have many of those." You pick some dirt from under your nail, "honestly it's been a long time since I was in the city." You turn your head to look at him, "it was simpler back then."
"I can imagine." Astarion looks at you too, "no world ending problems to solve."
The way you sigh at that, how deeply your shoulders sag, actually leaves him feeling a bit....guilty? Sad? He's not sure.
"No, the only big decision I had to make was dinner, where to sleep." You turn your face from him and rest the crown of your head on the tree behind you. He can feel your hair tickling his ear. "Sublime uneventfulness."
He swears he can see tears welling up in your eyes. He doesn't say anything, he can tell you wouldn't want him to.
"It must be harder for you." You say it softly, "with how many bad memories you have in the city."
"I feel more comfortable there." He confesses, "it's familiar, no giant monsters or goblins...well not usually. I know my way around there." He shrugs, "it feels..safe almost."
"I know the feeling." You nod, then you stand up.
"Good night Astarion." You look...forlorn. "Thanks for checking on me."
He looks up you, surprise rarely graced his features but it did now. "Of course darling."
"You're much sweeter than you let on you know." You drop a hand into his hair, he feels your thumb drag a short line over his forehead right above his eyebrow. You can feel his forehead scrunch up under your thumb.
"Eh," He shakes his head, "not to most."
"That's what makes you so great." You thumb at the shell of his ear as you pull away, "coming?" You hold your hand out to him, and offer to hoist him up.
"No I....want to sit a while I think."
"Suit yourself." You kneel and press a long kiss to his temple, "Sorry I got all..glum...there's a lot on my mind."
"You don't need to apologize." He looks up at you, "This isn't easy, you're more cheerful than most would be...given our circumstance."
"You're right." You give him a half hearted smile, "thanks Astarion, you always know what to say."
He sputters at that, "you'll make me sick. Stop." He swats your hand away from his face, he's just glad to hear you laugh.
"Right." You sit back on your haunches as your laughter fizzles out, "sorry." He puts a hand on your wrist and you grin at him, "I leave you to it, little star."
He scoffs at that but doesn't push you away, actually he holds onto your wrist until you're too far for him to reach anymore.
"Goodnight darling." He's just barely grinning at you.
*
"Hey Astarion," You're walking over to his tent, welcoming yourself in, and sitting in rapid succession.
"How can I help you darling?" He was toying around with a dagger, balancing it on the ball of his hand, shredding a small sheet of parchment with its sharp edge.
"I was thinking about today, and I wanted to ask a favor."
"I'm a terrible person to be indebted to." He waves the dagger at you, "you never know what I'll ask for in return."
"I'm not worried about it. I was thinking you could go skulk around the lower city, try to get some information on the Gondians and the steel watch? You're the best at skulking."
"Why, thank you." He puts a mocking hand on his chest, "you're so sweet to me."
"I figured you would like that option better than what I'm doing today." You shove his arm as you chuckle at his theatrics.
"Well what are you doing today? Would I find it so terrible I'd want to be parted from you?"
"Going down to the guildhall, trying to make some friends."
"Oh....Skulking does sound better." He nods, "alright, I'll do that then."
"Perfect," You laugh, "you can head out whenever you like. Thanks in advance, I owe you."
"I'll need that in writing." Astarion stands up, "I'll leave soon and see you back here tonight?"
You nod at him, "try to write some stuff down, get as much information as you can." You also stand, "feel free to take a buddy. Wyll, Jaheria and Karlach are coming with me. The others are up for grabs."
"Oh wow, such a wonderful select." Astarion rolls his eyes, "I'll do well on my own. Thank you."
*
Truthfully, when he can see everyone else is already back at camp before him he feels a bit sour.
Then he sees you all patching up.
"Astarion!" You seem happy to see him, "I was starting to worry."
"Oh yeah? Well I am worrying, currently."
"Dont worry!" You wave, "you should see the other guy." Your lip cracks and begins to bleed as you say it. "I'm going to go patch up at my tent, then I'll find you? You can tell me what you found out today."
"Alright do you....need help?" He offers, he isn't used to being this way, but the way your face brightens at the offer makes him feel like the adjustment will be worth it.
"No, no don't worry!" You're grinning, 'you must be tired too, rest up and then we can find each other. Alright?"
He watches some blood trickle down your chin, "I hope it's not as bad as it looks." He smudges the small stream of blood with his thumb, "find me later."
Karlach snickers as he walks away and you shove her off the log she was perched on.
You're mostly cleaned off when Astarion appears outside your tent, calling your name.
"Astarion?" You poke your head out, "it's good to see you."
He kisses his teeth and turns his head away from you, "it's hardly been ten hours."
"So? What did you find?" You elect to ignore his comment and move over to make room for him.
"Well..how are you feeling?" He scuffs his boots off the ground, "what even happened? I thought you were going to make friends?"
"We were...ugh...we always run into trouble." You lament, rubbing your forehead, "such a headache."
He sits beside you, "Did you get ambushed?"
"Aways in the most irritating places." You sigh, using a cloth to wipe some of the dirt off your face.
"Did you kill someone?" He sounds affronted, "what happened?"
"Gith."
"You killed someones!" He gasps, "I should have gone with you!"
"I know, I'm sorry." You laugh a bit, "I wish you'd been there."
"Well I.." He seems to trail off, "you had it handled I'm sure..and besides I..."
"You?" Your head tilts at him, "what's the matter? Did you find anything?"
"Yes actually I did and so I was thinking it actually was good I went my own way today." He rummages through his pack, which you only noticed he'd kept on him at this moment.
"I brought you something, from the city. I saw it and I thought of you. I figured it wouldn't hurt."
"You got me a gift?" You perk up, "careful, I might start to think you like me."
"It's certainly more than that." He procures a bundle of something, wrapped in a cheese cloth, "here, open it."
You pull the waxy twine holding the cloth shut and it falls open around his hand, reveling a few small lemon tarts, decorated with red berries.
"I don't think they're from the same shop but..I figured you'd like them either way." He can hardly look at you.
"Astarion..." You reposition to sit on your knees, "how did you remember? I barely talked about this once.." You pick one up, a grin splitting your face in half.
"I don't know I just...saw them in the shop window and remembered." He certainly wouldn't say he spent the better part of the day hunting for them.
"You're so sweet." You take the bundled cloth from his hands and set it down, "thank you for always thinking of me. Now I really do owe you." You clasp your hands around his.
"Oh no.." He kisses his teeth, "this one is..on me...but don't get used to it." He glances at you, "do they look okay?"
"Astarion they are sooo cute and little, they're perfect. Thank you. Honestly thank you, this is like the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me."
"I'm pretty sure I've saved your life before." Astarion raises his eyebrow at you, "but I appreciate the praise."
"This is different than that. This is different than anything. You listened to me, and you remembered, and you went out of your way to do something kind for me. Thank you Astarion, really thank you."
"I'll get a big head." He warns you, but you can tell the attention is embarrassing him. "I...like listening to you any way."
"You're sweet." You let his hand go and break one of the tarts in half, "here, try it with me."
"No, I got them for you-"
"I want to share, honest. It's like giving you one of my favorite memories."
"Only if you insist." He takes the smaller half anyway, "I never ate much around the city after Cazador... I don't remember the last time I had something like this."
"I know you'll like it, they're the best." You promise, "here, cheers me." You hold your half up and he scoffs, but taps your tarts together anyway before trying one with you.
"Oh my god it tastes just like how I remember," You groan, covering your mouth with three fingers as you talk, "this is the best. What do you think?"
He actually finishes chewing before he speaks, with much more tact than you, "that is very good, I can see why you liked them so much back then."
He watches you take a bite of another one, you see him smile, but his eyebrows scrunch up a bit too.
"What?" You ask, around a mouthful of tart, "something on my face-"
"No, no," He waves, "I just...I've never seen you so happy."
"Ever since I started fighting, adventuring and all..." You set the bitten tart down on the cloth, "I realized that sometimes the little things are the best things you can get, and that you should seize every little crumb of happiness because who knows when you'll get another? But this...this was like the best thing ever..I think I could have lived like Gale, in a big tower with everything I've ever wanted, and one of these would still put me over the moon."
"Really?" Astarion moves to sit closer to you, your knees touch.
"Really. Thank you Astarion."
"Don't thank me." He looks at the wall of your tent, "just enjoy them."
"I definitely will." You smile at him, and lean over the gap between the pair of you. The kiss is chaste and fast but the taste of it lingers on Astarion's lips.
"Will you stay with me tonight?" Astarion isn't sure why he asks, he's never asked before, "you can have your tarts and we we can fill each other in."
"I'd love to." You grin, "you like me wayyy more than you let on." You finish the abandoned tart and he scoffs.
"I don't know where you get the idea to pretend I don't like you. I've done nothing but sing you praises since we met! I think your wonderful, and you're the first person I've ever done something nice for on purpose and-" His mouth snaps shut, "I don't know what's come over me. I think I'm ill."
You snort at that, "yeah, love sick." You lean over and kiss him again, and it lingers in a way that makes Astarion feel warm, warmer than he ever has since dying.
"It's okay Astarion, I think you're wonderful too."
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atsadi-shenanigans · 2 months
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Tightrope and Lace
Astarion has a proposition: you’d look lovely in rope. And you shouldn’t be the only one who gets to dress for the occasion. Rated extremely Explicit.
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Like a lotta questionable decisions in your life, this one also starts with four words.
“I have a proposition, darling.”
Okay, so that’s five words. But Astarion uses “darling” the same way the man deigns to breathe, so it don’t count.
It’s an hour after sundown. The last traces of pink light smear low on the horizon, behind the lit towers and buildings of the city. Warmth still clings to the stones of y’all’s townhouse, and your hair is still damp from your bath.
Astarion pads up behind you, and his cool fingers trace softly down the back of your neck. A shiver races along after them. Which he know’ll happen.
“Uh huh?” you say all non-committal, because the last time he said that to you it involved a phial of arsonists oil, the city watch, and the stray cat incident.
Y’all are still in your sleepwear. Well, he is. Soft, loose trousers and his bare chest against your back. You actually had to throw on a mumu (they call it a shift) after bathing, and that bitch is see-through in direct light, but y’all ain’t expecting visitors and it’s chilly enough you don’t want to walk around bare today.
(Fuck the heat.)
That mumu is thin enough you feel the first stirring of his intent against your ass.
“Uh huh,” you say, much more interested.
He nuzzles in, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. Down the side of your neck to drag his teeth over the fain scars you now carry there.
Feeding and fucking ain’t always synonymous with him—sometimes a man is just plain old hungry. It often is, though, and his cock is definitely starting to pay attention.
“Come back to bed,” he says.
“I’m hungry.”
He hums. Nibbles at you again and his hands move to your front. One lifts to cup a breast, while the other trails down, down to slip between your legs.
“So am I,” he says and he had to’ve practiced that line.
Except you’re up and washed for a reason. The night market is opening, and y’all are getting low on provisions. You want soup, goddamnit, and y’all are somehow out of both onions and fucking salt. Plus, if you get there soon, you can grab yourself a chicken before they all get snatched up (thank you Gale for teaching you how to defeather and dress them little dumplings).
(Ooh, chicken and dumplings sounds great.)
So you, very reluctantly, push his hands away. Turn in the circle of his arms—you don’t get a chance to talk before he leans in for a kiss. He’s gentle, this evening. You fall into it a little, until his teeth find your lower lip.
This’ll get out of control (y’all have fucked on this counter more than once already). And you need provisions.
So you break off. He tries to follow, and groans when you don’t let him.
“So selfish, leaving me here like this,” the man whines.
And the idea blooms in your mind. Your breath catches and a tendril of warmth shoots between your legs. Astarion, with his fucking vampire hearing honed in on your cardiac uptick, raises an eyebrow and a sly smile slides across his face.
“What if, um,” you say. “What if you weren’t the only one left wanting?”
“Oh?”
Your cheeks are warm. You bite your lip (and catch how he stares).
“What if we got the rope?”
The rest on AO3 cause I don't wanna get thrown into horny jail.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months
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Nobody’s Fool Part 2 (Astarion x GN! Reader)
Synopsis: Astarion surprises you at the dock and an impromptu sleepover occurs. You and Astarion talk about why you worship Selune and your history.
Content warning: Deceased parents, work camp, Dead dove, mentions of attempted SA
Author note: thank you so much for all the love! This will probably have a few more parts so I hope you enjoy! Also I am writing him as super awkward on purpose
Not my pic- if it is your, please let me know so I can tag you! @casualya
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 You sit and skip rocks across the murky water- the rest of your companions are in their respective spots inside the dilapidated buildings. You usually spend time with Karlach, but, for whatever reason, Shadowheart seems to enjoy taking whatever company you have. Thankfully Karlach is actually your best friend and loves you, but it still hurts. 
 You know you could ask the others- you are sure one of them would want to spend time with you. Hells, Gale even commented on the Beach being a fun place and you didn’t think to invite him. Maybe it’s because the last time went so catastrophically that you don’t want to put yourself in that position again.
 Or because it would never be the date you had envisioned with Astarion. You had your blanket packed up next to your tent with a bottle of wine- you had a pouch to collect shells. You thought it might be fun for him to have something from a different place and shells are always so fun to find- at least from what you remember before the Mine. Your parents used to take you all the time and you would collect seashells together. 
 It’s the last time you truly, truly felt loved outside of praying to your Goddess. You don’t feel like you fit in with the other Selunite Clerics, you try your best, but there is always someone more desirable, more interesting, and you are just eh.
 There is always a Shadowheart that stands out in the crowd- deservedly so- she is a rare gem. You are just like any other gem Astarion has seen over the last two hundred years. 
 Sure people liked you, but it was never the people you liked. It was always the ones who were overbearing, hell bent on settling down and having a housewife. That isn’t what you want, but the men who want adventure and to be best friends, lovers, etc. want the more exciting individuals 
  The tears fall without your permission and you release a sigh of despair. You let your shoulders shake and your heart ache- it is better to release the pain in your chest than power through it. It will be better to get it out now while no one is around and you don’t have to be so wildly embarrassed about being emotional. 
 It’s not that you are still hung up on Astarion- you actually find it’s easier to keep boundaries if you don’t talk to him for tooo long. Just long enough to not make him feel left out, but not too long that he feels like he is special to you. 
 Of course, it hurts you to do that. You feel like he deserves to be special to someone- it just wasn’t meant to be you and you need to hold onto all of that specialness for the person you are meant to be with. 
 But what if you don’t want to be with anyone else ever again? This is your first big big crush, ever! What if you are never capable of developing feelings like this again!?
 You skip another rock pitifully across the water and watch as a fish jumps out to get it- only to be eaten by a bigger fish right after. 
 Typical, you sigh, my rock was given to someone just for someone else to receive the benefits. 
 It’s probably a good thing you are by yourself- you are quite the bummer today.
 “There you are- I have been looking for you just about everywhere, Darling,” a familiar voice says from behind you. 
 Oh great, you think, trying to collect yourself enough that it’s not obvious you are crying, he probably wants advice on how to make things right with Shadowheart. He never comes over and this is the first night Karlach is-
“I bought this for you,” he says awkwardly as he sits down next to you on the dock, “I thought it might help while uh fighting- so you don’t have to use up all of your magic like you did the other day.”
 You had felt like shit and slept through a whole day- you had overextended yourself with healing the day before and it had really taken a toll on you. You began feeling better today, but Shadowheart still took over the healing matters which you appreciated. 
 You look at Astarion’s hands and you are shocked to see an Amulet of Restoration. You have always wanted one, but they are ridiculously expensive. You had been eyeing this one while you were visiting the Myconoid Colony- you didn’t think anyone noticed. 
“I- I don’t know what to say.”
“I think the typical response is, ‘Thank you’, but I would like to request a very kind adjective at the end.”
 Astarion wiggles his eyebrows at you and you snort, shaking your head. 
“Thank you, beautiful,” you tease and notice how his face becomes slightly more lively and the tips of his ears grow pink.
 How silly- he probably gets that descriptor all the time. 
 You put the necklace on, it’s warm against your skin and it helps to heal the cracks in your chest. A sigh of relief leaves you as the weight of the world seems to lift ever so slightly. 
 You both sit there in silence- you are unable to come up with any topics of conversation. Your brain just feels icky and tired. You also wouldn’t even know what to say anymore. You haven’t really talked in a while- a whole week to be exact. Time seems to move differently on this journey- a week feels like months. 
You mostly expect him to get up and leave, but he never does.
“So- uh- the water is�� dark.” 
 You don’t know what surprises you more- that Astarion attempted to start a conversation first or that his small talk is truly truly terrible.
 Either way, you may need to use this necklace sooner rather than later so you don’t die of shock.
“It’s exceptionally dark,” you add, “I bet there are all kinds of beasties down there.” 
Astarion’s feet get a little further away from the edge of the dock and he chuckles nervously. The water is quite unsettling and you hope you didn’t scare him too much. You don’t think you are ready for him to leave yet. 
“Oh, you think so? Like what?” 
 This is… odd. He wants to keep talking? You feel like you are usually dragging the conversation along and now that you have had time to thoroughly analyze all of your previous interactions- you still don’t know how you had been so blind.
 This is not within the norm.
“Well- I heard,” you look left and right before making eye contact again, “a Kraken may live down there.”
 Astarion groans and you laugh heartily- Gale has been talking about Kraken’s all day and Astarion had looked so annoyed by the end of the journey to the Decrepit Village that everyone steered clear of him. No one wanted a piercing insult on their psyche that evening.
“Not you too!”
“Did you know-“
“Please- no!” He says in exasperation, “any more fun Kraken facts and I may let myself become one’s meal.”
 You shake your head and play with your hands- trying to find some way to keep the conversation going. It’s pathetic, but you don’t want to stop talking to him. That tiny piece of hope doesn’t want to. 
“What do you think it’s blood tastes like?” You ask, “the Kraken, I mean.”
 You don’t necessarily know why that particular thought seems to interest you, but you look at the water and think. You don’t look at his face, mostly worried you might have offended him by even asking. Is that something you can ask a Vampire?
“Would it be more mammal or fish-like?”
 Astarion looks equally as curious regarding this line of thought.
“Well, I tried a fish when we were near the Grove- it was atrocious, truly,” Astarion shudders, “I can’t imagine a Kraken is going to taste that much better.” 
 “Fish really tastes that bad?”
 Astarion nods with a scowl, “it’s not nearly as bad as the bugs and rats Cazador fed me, but I still have no desire to indulge in that again.”
 You blink a few times, unsure if you heard him right.
 “Rats and bugs?” You ask, “I thought you always fed off of people.”
 Astarion throws his head back with a cynical laugh.
“That was a good one, Darling.”
 “I wasn’t joking.”
  Astarion looks perplexed and then seems to be immediately flooded with shame- beginning to get back up and make his leave.
“On that note-”
“Wait,” you get up quickly, “we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, okay? But there is no judgment from me- ever. I promise.”
 You both stand there, staring at each other, and he is searching your eyes for any sign of deception. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he sat back down. 
 You aren’t sure how close you should sit next to him, so you give yourself and him a relatively decent-friend sized gap. 
 You can still be his friend- that you can do.
“Cazador would have me bring the prettiest souls in all of Baldur’s Gate,” he scowls, “he would ask me if I wanted to dine with him and if I said no, he would flay me. If I said yes, he would sooo ‘generously’ give me a putrid, dead, rotting rat.
“You are the first thinking creature I have…”
  You aren’t really sure what you are supposed to say in this situation. You have never been a Vampire Spawn before and you certainly haven’t had to drink putrid blood. Rotten food and such, sure, but you have a feeling expressing empathy and your own experience would not be perceived well. 
“I am really sorry you had to do that.” 
“It doesn’t matter- I will never have to do that again.”
“True.”
 You both sit there quietly and just enjoy the silence- the sound of gentle waves flowing through the air is soothing and it’s calming. You enjoy his company- immensely. You will let yourself soak into it for a moment.
“I made a mistake,” Astarion breaks the silence, “going with Shadowheart the night of the party.”
 You are frozen and entirely unsure of how to respond to that. Does he mean he should have accepted your offer or does he just want to talk about it?
“Oh- I’m sorry it wasn’t enjoyable for you.”
  He stares down into the murky water and doesn’t say a word. The silence is heavy between both of you and you don’t want to ask the question that is weighing heavily on your mind because you honestly don’t think you want to know the answer. 
 It was probably just that the sex was bad or they didn’t end up having as much chemistry as they thought.
 “He said your name in the middle of the act itself!”
  You feel the tips of your ears heat up and your heart begins to hammer in your chest when Karlach’s words resurface.
 No- it was probably an accident.
 “When you asked me to walk on the beach that night,” he whispers, “what were your intentions?”
 You feel like a stone has dropped on your chest again with his words and you really have no desire to answer them, but you probably should.
“My intentions,” you say meekly, “were to take you on a date. Don’t worry- it won’t happen again.”
“You,” he sounds stunned, “you didn’t invite me to go to the beach with you for sex?”
  You hadn’t even thought about sex if you are being entirely honest. You have never been intimate with anyone before- some stupid chastity thing you had felt was important as a youth and now you are picky.
“Oh- no that was very far from my mind,” you say sheepishly, “I had other activities in mind, sex was not one of them.” 
“Like what?”
 You feel embarrassment course through your veins- you really shouldn’t be talking about this with him. Maybe they are all in on this big joke and when you share what you were going to do, they will all laugh around the campfire. 
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you say with a pinched smile, meeting his unreadable expression, “come on- we should head back to camp.”
 You don’t catch the frown on his face as you get up to walk away. 
    *************************************************
  You are going cross eyed as you try to read and continue to zone out.
 Why did Astarion ask you so much about your date plans three days ago? Why has he been unusually atune to your recent needs? Why does he consistently keep your favorite alcohol on hand lately? 
 A lot has changed within a few days. You still spend an exceptional amount of time with Karlach, but Astarion has begun finding times to get your undivided attention too. It is as if he is helping Shadowheart with developing her relationship with Karlach.
Maybe he feels guilty for things not working out between them and is “taking one for the team”. It is likely that- there really isn’t any other reason for him to be spending time with you and you refuse to believe he has just suddenly developed feelings for you.
Have more bizarre things happened in your life? Certainly- there is even a tadpole in your head to prove it. Astarion having feelings for you is never going to be one of those bizarre things and you would be a fool to suddenly have hope now- even with the Amulet of Restoration warming your skin. 
 KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
 You are jolted from your thoughts when an incessant knocking pulls you back to reality. You blink a couple times and rub your eyes- yawning while telling the other individual to come in. You are hoping it is Karlach- she had been spending time with Shadowheart and she seems to be quite smitten. It is not Shadowheart’s fault that she is beautiful and wonderful nor was it her fault that Astarion was more attracted to her- you just want Shadowheart to be happy.
“You sound awfully tired, Darling,” stunning ruby eyes are peering at you from the shadows of your tent, “I can leave you be for the night if you would prefer.”
 It would probably be for the best, but the ghost of tears on his cheeks makes you think otherwise. He needs someone right now and in spite of your efforts, you still adore him. There is a book in his slightly shaking hand.
“Oh, no! That’s alright- you are welcome to sit and stay here as long as you need.”
 He smiles softly- something you have never seen before- and he sits down next to you. Both of your knees touch as you get back to your book and he begins to read his own. You are struggling to read your page even more now. 
  His cologne consumes you inside of your tent and you feels like you could begin to cry- you want to cuddle into him. You want to melt into his arms and know what it means to fall in love, be in love, and be loved in return. However, he does not want you. He needs you and that is wildly different than wanting.
“What are you reading?”
  Your mind goes blank all of a sudden.
 What are you reading?
 You turn the book over in your hand to look at its cover- how are you going to explain not knowing the cover of your own book?
“Shar’s Teachings of Loss.”
Astarion looks bewildered by your choice of literature and you snort with a roll of your eyes.
“Shadowheart gave it to me and I told her I would give it a try.”
“Why?”
“Because it can help me understand her better,” you say with a shrug, “and maybe I can help her see that there is more to life than darkness and suffering.”
 The silence in the air is thick and unsettling- not in a dangerous way, but as if you opened a Pandora’s box for Astarion.
“Why do you care?” His voice sounds sharp and judgmental, “she would rather slit her own throat than bother to read Selune’s doctrine.”
 You sit and think for a moment- why do you care?
“I guess I realized that Shadowheart fell into Shar’s lap because she was a victim of circumstance,” you say slowly, “and I suppose if I had been in her shoes- I would have fallen into Shar’s Doctrine as well. I was just lucky enough to be found by Selune first.” 
 The silence continues and you try to go back to reading your book, but it’s no use. Your brain is entirely distracted by his presence in your atmosphere.
“Why did you begin worshipping Selune?”
 You hate to admit how giddy you feel that he is asking you questions about yourself. You are so used to being the one to keep conversations going between both of you that you honestly are still surprised when he makes an effort instead. 
“My parents had died in the mine we were being forced to live in by some Ravengers,” your voice is barely a whisper, “they became really sick and then they were just gone.
“I ended up getting sick a few weeks later. I was hallucinating and I was in so much pain. I knew I was dying and I was… I was okay with that. I wanted to be free and with my parents again.
“But then a girl who was only a little older than me began taking care of me and praying to Selune every night that I would live. 
“A week later, when I was on my deathbed, Paladins and Clerics of Selune freed us from the mine and I lived.”
“And you have worshipped Selune ever since?”
“Gods no,” you laugh, “when I turned 22, I left the church and I was very angry. I couldn’t understand why I lived and my parents didn’t. I couldn’t understand why we had ever been put in that mine in the first place when Selune had been capable of saving us. I joined a local thieves and assassins guild in Althkalta for about five years. 
“I was laying in bed one night with the leader of the guild- he had drugged me and… well I remember looking up and seeing the moon. Right as he was about to, uh, enter me?” You chuckle nervously, “he was burned alive by the moon. I had abandoned her, but she never abandoned me. I realized I had become someone I wasn’t.  I left and returned to the church after that. I have been there ever since.” 
“Darling,” Astarion gasps, “you have been holding out on me. I can’t even begin to imagine the amount of luxuries we could have stolen together by now.”
You smile awkwardly, “Oh I am not sure about that- I was quite miserable doing that, unfortunately. I am a bit lame.”
“Well- if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”
 It’s back to being entirely silent and it remains that way long enough for you to finally finish three pages of the book. 
This is so depressing- the book. No wonder Shadowheart is so guarded and paranoid 80 percent of the time. You would be too if you were brought up to believe this nonsense.
“I can’t see you being a very good thief or assassin,” Astarion says awkwardly, “for what it’s worth.”
 You blink a couple times and look at him for a moment. You begin to laugh like a mad man- his expression is so serious and he certainly isn’t wrong. You were terrible at it and you still aren’t sure how you are going to bring back Nere’s head. 
“You would be correct! I was horrendous! Most of my targets remained alive- some I even warned beforehand because I didn’t feel like the contract was fair.”
 Astarion snorts, “what do you mean fair? I don’t think any part of that work revolves around being ‘fair’.” 
“It most certainly does not,” you sigh, “one time a guy tricked me into thinking he was a good person and then he went on to kill eight people. You could probably imagine how great that felt.”
 Much to your surprise, Astarion continues to ask you about your misadventures- both as a cleric and as a horrible excuse for a rogue. It leads the way for some of his own stories to bleed in- snatching a beautiful necklace from someone for Gold so he can buy the nicer wine one night and other shenanigans like that. 
 You tell him that you are rather terrified to have to decapitate Nere and it isn’t something you really want to do. Astarion offers to do it for you so that you can A. Not embarrass yourself and B. Not have to do something you really do not want to do. You would be remiss if you said it didn’t make your heart beat with joy. It is very white knightish of him and you are still a person who adores a good fairytale at the end of the day.
 At some point you fell asleep, but you barely remember telling Astarion he doesn’t have to go. However, waking up with his arms wrapped around you and his habitual breath fanning across your face is not a bad way to start your day. 
 His body is cool against yours, a welcome change in this excruciatingly warm environment. Your entire tent smells like him and you silently pray that it will remain this way. You honestly aren’t sure how you will feel when you walk into it later today and his cologne is gone. 
 And what if he regrets staying? What if he regrets cuddling with you or he felt like he had to? You really don’t want to regress in your friendship and go back to square one. He has been much kinder and agreeable lately. Astarion has really begun taking his mask off and you aren’t ready to see it go back on. 
“Stop overthinking, Darling” a grumble from near your ear makes you jolt ever so slightly, “your body is so tense I can practically hear your thoughts.” 
“I-sorry.”
 Astarion hums before asking, “unless you are tense because you want me to stop touching you- then you can say something, obviously.”
“That’s not it,” you say much faster than you wanted to, “this is… nice.”
 A pleased hum comes from your companion’s lips and you feel him begin to relax against you again. Your heartbeat eventually calms along with your thoughts and you allow yourself to indulge for however much longer he will allow you to. 
 It’s possible that he does have feelings for you- this is something you have refused to entertain up until now, but Astarion’s love languages would be buying something at full price, decapitating someone, and cuddling you. He doesn’t like to be touched, doing things for others, or paying for something when he can just as easily steal it. 
 He could also be afraid and feel like he needs to be close with someone for safety. That is a feeling you understand all too well with your own history. You suppose that is why you are struggling to believe that this is truly happening in the first place. 
 You know actions speak louder than words and his actions are telling the story of a scared individual who is fighting for his freedom. 
 Maybe Selune has answered his prayers- you can be here for his comfort and as his friend because that is what he needs from this journey. It’s why you met each other. One day you may have to watch him fall in love and you will also find someone else in spite of the pain, but that’s okay. 
  That’s what friends are for.
Tag list: @preciouslittlebhaalbae @xxgrimripp3rxx @alice4wonderland2812 @therobishow @m1ster1e @tragicdruid @katsutoria @aristenfromwarsaw @avabjorna36 @frankie-mercury
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enchantrum · 5 months
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The Astral Prism Isn't Grindr!- Why the Emperor didn't catfish you.🦑
Very long, rambling post I wrote while manic at 4 am. Enjoy!
I feel like the worst thing you can actually say about Emp in regards to his actions towards the player is that he lies by omission. But even then, to consider it lying you basically have to work from the perspective that you as a player, person, character or whatever, are entitled to know everything about someone you just met, who might have some very good reasons for not wanting to reveal certain things
He didn't "catfish" you the prism isn't grindr lmao?! And the game/companions/etc repeat to you over and over that the Dream Visitor is some kind of manufactured vision. You all have one and it's specific to your individual minds. He wasn't exactly doing some deepcover shit with a fake backstory to get your cryptowallet information or whatever real-life equivalence you keep trying to make. As if you run into alien squid monsters every day or something!
It's doubly bizarre because there is an extremely popular companion character whose entire arc is ACTUALLY lying to you about who they are, only admitting it when you catch them attacking you in your sleep, and then goes on to try to ACTUALLY manipulate you with sex and intimacy while at that point, not actually feeling it. This is the most popular character in the fandom btw- Astarion.
Emperor's morality is held up to a ridiculous standard. Not even the companions are held to that level- not even close!
A better equivalence to his situation than "catfishing" (a term completely exclusive to our world) would be if a sentient, alien creature was stranded on our planet and had to use a disguise to y'know....not be shot at and killed by confused humans? Why the heck would your brain first jump to catfishing? Girl if you approached your DG as a tindr date that's on you! Lliterally the only prompt the game gives you before creating them is "you need a guardian" (At least currently that's how it works, after official release.)
if you met a kind of weird guy and fell for him and he then revealed he's actually a sentient squid monster, I don't think your first response would be "OMG YOU CATFISHED ME?" I'm pretty sure it would be "HOLY FUCK A SQUID MONSTER!" because it would be very obvious and apparent (by virtue of them being a squid monster) that the intent was not to "catfish" you, but to survive a world that would be actively hostile towards him, on sight.
We accept this type of "ambiguous morality for the sake of survival" from characters like Astarion who are traditionally attractive, but we don't accept it from a being whose very appearance, forces them into that position of moral ambiguity. Emperor is not afforded the same privilege of even being able to consider full honesty, because just one look at him could make someone hysterical. Hiding himself from you is not an active choice he's able to make, anymore than a turtle can choose to break open it's shell- it will die.
Even if YOU wouldn't kill him, what about companions like Lae'zal, who are already suspicious of him and will definitely cut him down at that point? Even if you think that would be a good thing, you would then lose your protection from the tadpole/the Absolute. The game basically wouldn't exist without the Prism.
Let's also not use "well Astarion is traumatized" as an excuse here. Emperor is pretty obviously traumatized as well, in addition to being a brain-eating squid monster and having to manage that part of his nature, the way Astarion has to handle his. Yet he's still more up front than Astarion was. Astarion can accidentally kill you while drinking from you and he still doesn't reveal who he is to the others, AND pretends he doesn't know what happened to you lol.
Note my point here isn't "Astarion bad" but simply that if you have room in your heart to sympathize with characters like Astarion, then there's no reason you can't squeeze my man Emp in there too. He doesn't do anything significantly worse than any of the other main characters but is the most hated, and it's literally because of this ridiculous perception of him "catifshing" the player. The most media illiterate take I have ever seen in my life, honestly
Like first off, he's a squid, and secondly! ☝️ Read all that again.
tl;dr if you feel "cafished" by the Emperor you simply weren't paying attention for more than half the game. Fantasy might not be for you if you can't remove the plot from real life circumstances and turn complex fantasy monsters into human romance scammers, as if they're actually alike in any meaningful way.
Read more books maybe. That might help.
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iamjucie · 7 months
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Pet (18+) pt. 4 of 4
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Ascended Astarion x f!reader
Chapter Four: Pink
I suggest reading the first three of the series before this, there is a bit of a plot in the porn. Just a little.
Summary: Master Astarion takes away your hurt and allows you to enjoy the sweet nothing of enthrallment.
WARNINGS: Smut, Extremely dubious consent, Mind control/manipulation, Orgasm control, Abusive relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Physical Abuse
I do not say this lightly- Astarion is evil in this. This is an extremely toxic relationship. You have been warned!
(AO3 Link)
When he goes to lift your hips from him, you flinch and groan. So overwhelmed with sensitivity from both of your earth shattering orgasms.
He notices this and tuts, “Darling, I do expect you know I am not finished with you yet. Are you feeling…” he moves his hand down, pushing two fingers inside and allowing his wrist to graze your clit, drawing a scream from your lips. “...Sensitive?”
“Y-yes master I- Ah” he begins to massage inside you while you talk to him. He loves to see you struggle. “I-I don't think I can manage any more master… I-It- it hurts.”
“My poor child,” he coos while still massaging winces and hisses from your lips. “What are we meant to do about that, hm?”
You are struggling to think through the assault on your senses, rendering your brain struggling to focus on anything the pain he is bringing onto you “I-I don’t know…” you stutter pathetically, “C-can you make it stop hurting? Maybe I- You- M-Make it feel good.”
Astarion stops in his conquest to destroy your senses and places a hand on his cheek, feigning surprise. “Darling, are you asking me to compel you to enjoy it?”
“Y-yes. No, I-I don’t know. I only want to make you feel good, that is my purpose. Would that be bad? ” you inquired, genuinely confused.
“Absolutely not my dearest!” he chuckles as he reaches to caress your cheeks, as if you were a child embarrassed that she said something wrong. “I would be happy to oblige.”
You settle yourself into position ready for your master to take the wheel. Gods, you loved when he did this. You love having him in your mind, controlling your every move, your every reaction. When thinking is all you ever do, it’s blissful to not have a thought in your head.
The feeling of him entering your mind is akin to laying in a fresh set of silk sheets. Fog drapes over your thoughts and everything seems far away. Wrapping your brain in a warm, silky coating. You are no longer in your body, you are elsewhere. Here, everything is quiet.
Everything except him, and he is all that matters.
“Okay, Pet.” you hear his voice ring in your mind amidst the fog. You tilt your head inquisitively, awaiting your command. You can’t wait, you are so very eager to serve. “All I want you to do is feel good for me. Can you do that? Nod if you can do that.”
You nod. 
The fog suddenly lifts slightly and you are back in your body with Astarion. Everything has a slight tint of pink to it, but that’s ok. Pink is a very good color. It makes you feel very good.
“Sigh, Look at what has become of you dear.” he reaches his hand to caress your cheek. “So utterly pathetic.”
You smile at him, the fog makes words jumble in your mind but you can hear your master’s voice. Master’s voice is so beautiful. You reach your hand to grip his on your face, nuzzling your face into it. It makes you feel very good.
He flips you onto your back, your giddiness is palpable. You giggle as he caresses you. Everything tickles a little, it feels good.
“Gods, you’re giggling like a gods-damned child.” he scoffs, “You’re a shell of the powerful woman you once were. Do you know why, love?”
You don’t quite understand what he’s saying to you but you get the impression he is expecting a response. You tilt your head with an inquisitive expression, replaying what he said to try to understand. All you can do is think about how good his voice makes you feel.
A more prominent voice comes into your mind. He has a command for you.
“Say, ‘Why, Master?’ for me, love” it echoes in your brain until it is fulfilled.
“Why, master?” you say with no thought or intention behind it. You look at him with the deepest form of affection known to man; enthrallment.
He grabs you and pulls your ear to his lips. “Because I took it from you.” he hisses, hand moving down to your clit to massage it. “I stole your strength, your talent, your mind from you.” he smiles at you.
He’s so pretty when he smiles.
“You put up quite the fight for a bit but in the end, I won. I always do.”
His fingering in your cunt gets more aggressive, he loves making you feel good. He feels so good inside you, and his voice is like music in your clouded mind.
“I beat you, fucked you, isolated you until you were exactly the way I want you.” He scoffs, “Proof that my power is strong enough to turn the strongest heroes into whores that only exist to be my cumslut. The hero of Baldur’s Gate, locked in a bedroom in my palace for me to fuck when I please.”
He starts to laugh, he must have told a joke. Master is so funny. You laugh along with him.
He lifts your hips onto his cock once more. You feel a rush of pleasure drawing a languid moan from your lips. This is what hurt before? No no- it must have been something else that was hurting. This- this is too profound to hurt.
You start to bounce on his cock, pulling him in and out fully the way your body knows he likes. It feels so good. 
“You’re a fucking idiot do you know that?” he through pants as he ferociously fucks you. “Thinking you would ever be my ‘Dark Consort’, thinking I would let you in on the glory? Please.”
His voice sounds like a symphony.
“I knew from the moment I met you, you were just a desperate, stupid slut. Just needed some coaxing out by my hand.” he continues, “Say you’re nothing but a desperate slut and nothing without me inside you.”
Again, you have the feeling he is expecting a response from you but you don’t quite know what to say. You feel so good wrapped around his cock. Everything is so perfect. 
He slaps you across the face and puts his hand around your neck. 
The heat of the hit goes straight to your cunt. Waves of pleasure rush over your mind. It feels. So. Damn. Good. You’re on the cusp of the biggest orgasm of your undead life. 
He enters your mind with a command, “I said, say you’re nothing but a desperate slut and nothing without me inside you.”
“Ah- I-I’m a desperate slut!” you try to use your voice between moans, “a-and I’m n-nothing without you i-inside me-e!”
You don’t even know what you’re saying, you’re so fucking close. 
“Gods…“ Astarion is on the edge of coming inside you. “Fucking-“
He enters your mind. “Come when I say. I need to feel you clench around my cock as I have you spilling with me.”
“Three…”
Your body starts to prepare for the hit of chemicals your brain is about to receive.
“Two…”
You’re so fucking close, you’re under his thumb. He just needs to lift it ever so slightly and you’re riding this wave together. 
“One. Come for me”
Your body obeys. Your scream could easily be mistaken for him killing you if this routine wasn’t so practiced. You convulse and clench around his member inside of you, milking his spend for all you can. You lay in a pleasurable bliss. A numbness like no other, with your master’s spend leaking from your cunt. Fucked beyond measure. 
***
The pink fog of your vision lifts for the most part. The fog is still clouding your thoughts, it usually does until master is gone for a long while.  
After a brief respite, Astarion begins to put his clothes back on. Gazing at his reflection to ensure there’s no imperfections in his appearance. 
He turns on his heels to face you and clasps his hands together. “Well my love, I’m afraid I need to head out.” he explained with an exaggerated frown. “I have a very very important meeting out of town I need to attend.”
“Again? But you just came back from a trip…” you pout. 
“Darling,” his eyes glow slightly in your gaze, “that was 2 weeks ago!”
You scrunch your face. Has it been that long? You concentrate on remembering the past two weeks. 
He places a hand on your forehead to check for a fever. “Are you feeling unwell?”
Think… Oh! How could you have forgotten? You helped to decide the warpath of where to expand the empire you two have built. Yes, yes. How could you forget? Time does fly when you have fun.
You lay naked on the bed, watching as your master makes his way to leave your shared chambers to go on yet another important trip. You love that your master is such an important man, that is what he always wanted and what he deserves. But, selfishly, you hate that he always needs to go away. Oh well. You should be grateful you had such an eventful two weeks with him. 
He knocks 3 times on the chamber door with no handles. Did that always have no door knob? You can’t bring yourself to recall, your mind and body spent beyond their limit. 
Master’s assistant- whose name is lost on you- opens the door for him. As he is beginning to make his way out the door, you call out to him.
“Wait master!”
He turns to you. “Hm? Yes, pet?”
“Where is your business trip located? I forgot to ask, I like to know so I can imagine us going there together one day.”
He tilts his head in endearment and smiles at you.
“Neverwinter, my lovely. I must be going, the carriage is waiting. Now, you know the routine by now? Think of me while I’m gone.”
The images he wants you to imagine flow into your mind like a tidal wave. You hear him in your mind telling you not to touch yourself and that you can’t climax without permission. 
“Of course, master. I will behave myself”
“Good girl. I will see you before you know it, my pet”
“I love you, master”
“Yes, I know. And I you.” he says as the door is shut
***
“Sire, just to ensure I’m not mistaken,”  Astarion’s assistant asks shortly after the door to the vault is locked shut as she walks beside him down the hall, “your soonest business meeting is six months from now? In Waterdeep?” 
“You would be correct. If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”
“Of course, sire.”
***
You are sitting in the lavish master chamber of the ornate palace you call home. Gazing into your reflection in the vanity mirror combing your unnaturally long black hair, getting lost in thought. It’s really all there is to do when Master Astarion is away on extended business trips like this.
It does help, too, that before he left he told you to think of him while he was gone. It was a command. So you obey. And you think.
The End
I hope you enjoyed my very first time writing fanfiction!! If you like my style and have any ideas or suggestions, let me know! This was so much fun to write and I can't wait to write more!
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lynnlovesthestars · 3 months
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The veil.- Intro
Astarion x OC ( @wisterialynn )
Genre: reverse isekai.
Synopsis: Astarion falls in love with whoever is hiding behind the veil, and it hits him so hard that he can't forget him. Not even when Lynn starts a new save.
AN: hello this is the prologue of the reverse isekai story I've been working on for a while.. It's supposed to be a lighthearted story, mostly fluff and crack, low on drama, but low-key healing since both oc and Astarion have plenty of trauma. Basically domestic ff.
Also I think I will add some of the renders I made of Lynn and Astarion as I publish the chapters since I have so many - and are so cute.
Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sessils @roguishcat
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Lynn couldn't help it. When something caught his mind, it was hard to pull him away, so when a new game came out and he downloaded it, he knew he was up for sleepless nights.
It was a breath of fresh air in his monotonous and grey life. It had been ages since he allowed himself to feel something that was not sadness or anger. He sat in front of his screen and he came to life.
He didn't speak much in his day, neither with peers or family since he distanced himself from his roots, moving to a different town, focusing on his work, but once he was knees deep in his little and silly game? He'd comment, talk, sass even, he truly came out of his shell.
It was something Astarion had grown to adore, from the moment Lynn had first loaded his game, and Astarion felt something.. different. He felt out of place to say the least.
Gale blamed the necromancy of Thay, saying it probably connected him with something deeper, just like he was connected to his netherese orb, but Astarion knew it was something different.
And once he was freed of Cazador as well, he couldn't believe his ears.
Astarion could feel that connection becoming deeper, the veil between the two coming closer and thinner.
As he fell for his Tav, he couldn't help but fell harder for him. For his witty comments, his giggles at Astarion's compliment, his humming as he worked and forgot his side of the connection on- aka his PC.
Astarion had heard everything, every comment for the elf, every sob he let out in front of the screen, and god only knows what other sounds coming from Lynn.
Only when Lynn started his second run Astarion became gloomy. The attentions he was so used to receive shifted, Tavgliatelle- or whatever name he gave his character that time- was different, so focused on Karlach.
It didn't mean Astarion couldn't hear Lynn, how he still commented on Astarion, how despite everything he was trying to resist the urge to romance him again. Astarion understood it was just a loop, the more he'd spend time at camp, the more he'd trying and break free of the loop, the more he'd fall for the person at the other side of the screen.
He prayed.
He attempted magic.
He tried to find that small door that could lead him to his lover, until he did find it.
Lynn wanted to say he loved Astarion a normal amount, just like how you love your favourite character, but there was something different.
Astarion had touched him differently than any other, he felt his chest clench, hurt, for a bundle of pixels, he had empathized so much with him. Astarion understood Lynn and Lynn understood Astarion. And yet whatever his heart was hatching was meant to stay there, just within him and his head. In his daydreams and his sweetest nights.
"Lynn?" A rough hand gently pressed against his back as the figure hidden in the dark kneeled next to him. "Love, let's move to the bed" The voice cooed as he gently lifted Lynn from his chair, admiring for a moment his features while they were enlightened only by the light of the screen.
Astarion was glad his vampiric strength didn't get lost, as he carried the man to the bed.
He couldn't help but admire how he laid peacefully. The serious smirk he had when he was hunched over the desk, was replaced with a soft smile as if he knew who was gently sliding under the cotton sheet with him, as if he knew whose arms were wrapping around his middle, as if he knew who cradled him to his chest.
His soulmate.
-
Astarion's fingertips gently grazed the exposed back, the new feeling spreading all over his body as everything was so new, so real.
All his life no man or woman he had bedded or kissed awoke in him what the man in his grasp was doing without effort.
"My sweet sweet love" He whispered as he kissed the man's temple gently, trying his best not to stir him awake.
He had truly made it, he had crossed the veil that separated him from his love, and now he was laying against his chest, soundly asleep.
The sigh that escaped the other's lips said it all, how peaceful he felt despite being unaware. Astarion liked to imagine that Lynn was feeling safe in his grasp as if his body knew he was being held and protected by him.
-
The man stirred awake, his body aching from the day before, hissing as he tried to turn, while his body was stiff from sleep.
"There there, sunshine" Astarion cooed as he gently guided him back to lay in his arms. "You need rest"
"I do.." Lynn hummed as his hand gently reached for Astarion's cheek to rest there.
It took him a moment to realize he was not alone, tangled to the cold yet oddly familiar body.
"What the fuck" Lynn jumped up on his seat, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, as if the Astarion laying in his bed was just a remainder of his dream, still stuck in the inside of his eyes.
"Good morning to you too, darling" Astarion chuckled as he gently caressed him. "I suppose that's human's way of saying 'oh my god Astarion, it's so nice to finally hold you" He teased as if sitting in Lynn's bedroom was normal, as if he didn't come from a game, but simply from his window.
"You can't be-" Lynn placed his hand on Astarion's cheek, trying to gauge at reality, only to be met with the cold skin again.
"I very much am, love" The vampire nodded smirking proudly as he brushed back his hair with his fingers.
"I'm still dreaming, that's it" The human couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief, as if that could erase the pungent smell of bergamot that suddenly enveloped his room.
"No, you are awake" Astarion quipped smiling and itching to move closer to shut him up with his lips.
"Astarion you are not real" Lynn said out loud, spelling each word slowly.
"I'm clearly here aren't I" He asked raising an eyebrow.
"Astarion don't be an idiot" Lynn shook his head one step away from facepalming himself.
"What if you are the one not real" Astarion clapped his hands together as if that was his gotcha moment.
"Don't start this" the human, still skeptical crossed his arms together, yet before he could completely close them, Astarion grasped at his wrist and bit the soft flesh.
The sweet taste of his blood awoke something in him, the way it slowly went down his throat thick and warm, made him dizzy but most of all left him breathless for the other man.
"That felt real" Lynn sighed as he pulled away his wrist, massaging where Astarion's lips were a second prior. That was real.
Astarion laid back for a moment, trying his best to contain the euphoria spilling from his every pore, he had a taste of divinity. Completely different from the taste of blood he was used to.
The way it ran through his body, it was real.
"I was trapped in that thing, god knows for how long, I am just a poor vampire in need of a cuddle" He admitted as he caught his breath and opened his arms to invite Lynn in.
"That's it I'm going out of my mind"
Astarion groaned. "IM GOING OUT OF MY MIND CAUSE YOU HAVE NOT HUGGED ME YET"
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raviolirash · 7 months
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I see a few posts now and then saying that Astarion's story doesn't tie into the main plot at all. Those takes are strange to me because it does.
The whole theme of BG3 is power and how it corrupts. How Cazador was once a young boy but got sired by Vellioth and was then tortured for a few lifetimes. How then Cazador not only continued the cycle, but became more powerful than Vellioth and got bored. Then decided to kill 7,007 people to ascend to godhood in order to fill the void in his heart. He knew that doing so would doom what remains of him to Mephistopheles. He did it while fully understanding that it will never be enough. Check what he says when you read his thoughts in the coffin.
Ascended Astarion then hammers in further that no power can fill that void. No godhood can. You'll remain an unhealed rotting wound and you'll be screaming on the inside for the rest of your days, you'll never feel happiness. You'll forget how much you loved the embrace of the sun, and cover the world in darkness. You'll corrupt the person you love until there is nothing left. You'll become the darkness you feared and will spend rest of your days chasing that high, murdering more and more people. You will be corrupted and you will only be a shell of your former self, your humanity erased.
All of this in the futile hopes of silencing your own voice screaming inside yourself.
[AstarionThankingYouForNotLettingHimAscend.mp4 here]
This story is reflected in many you encounter in BG3. Most obvious one is Gortash of course. He was sold by his parents to Raphael and abused in the hells. Gortash then sold a kid who trusted him with her life to Zariel to be a lab rat. But this post is long enough.
Astarion's story is a warning to the players and a moment of introspection. To show how far out of hand a chase for power can get and how it will never end and it will never be enough. To see if they have a conscience to turn to their friend and say "I want you to live a life you're proud of. You can't be proud of this."
It's the same way with the movie Us and some comments I see about it
Do you focus far too much on "lol plot don't make sense"
Or was your reaction "Holy shit. They are just like me. They are people too."
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coreene · 9 months
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There is something I really like about Astarion's character which is that he is loud. I don't mean he talks loud I mean once you open up a certain milestone with him, he doesn't hide anything from Tav.
You learn he's a vampire and he'll tell you every little detail you're curious about. How did he become one? Who turned him? How long was he one? He answers them all.
He might raise his voice now and then, and be dramatic while he answers maybe, but he will tell you all he knows and all he's been through.
Once you get to his confession, he opens up even more. He doesn't hide the fact that he wants to usurp the ritual, he'll lash out if you don't agree with him but the weird thing is he doesn't disapprove. You can say "I don't think you should take the ritual for yourself"
He'll yell and say, "it's a good thing it's not your choice" but doesn't disapprove.
I don't know I just love how open he is. This man wears his heart on his sleeve and it makes it very easy to talk to him. Even with a Tav who might be a little closed off themselves, he's so open and out there, he'll bring them out of that shell.
He has the potential to have a relationship with good communication is all I'm saying.
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