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[topsheepstudent]

Sleep, Please

"Whumpee," Caretaker pleaded, "you need to go to sleep, please."

Whumpee shook their head vigorously from their spot on the bed. They were sitting up with their arms folded across their chest. Caretaker had tried to make everything comfortable- they had given Whumpee extra blankets and pillows, and had even brought in a night light, but Whumpee wouldn't so much as lay down and relax.

"Whumpee, come on, you've been awake for days, what's the worst that can happen?"

That was the wrong thing to ask. Tears brimmed in Whumpee's eyes as they answered.

"Everytime I close my eyes," Whumpee said with a shudder, "I see them."

"Whumper?"

Tears were streaming down Whumpee's face now.

"Yes."

Caretaker sighed. They understood Whumpee didn't want to have nightmares, but they couldn't run on empty forever. There were dark circles under Whumpee's eyes, and they were swaying on the spot. Caretaker felt the syringe in their pocket. They really didn't want to have to use it, but Medic had insisted.

If they don't go to sleep, Medic's words echoed, give them this.

Caretaker looked at Whumpee again. Everytime their eyes closed, they would jerk awake a few seconds later. Caretaker couldn't bear to see them like this.

"Whumpee," Caretaker said, "you know I care about you, right?"

Whumpee looked taken aback.

"Yeah, why?" Whumpee asked.

"You also know that since I care about you, I only have your best interests at heart."

Whumpee nodded, a confused expression on their tired face.

"Good, come here."

Caretaker wrapped Whumpee in a gentle hug. Whumpee melted into the touch. Caretaker gingerly pulled out the syringe. Tears pricking their eyes, they plunged it into Whumpee's shoulder and pushed down on the depressor. Whumpee tensed in their hold. They tried to wriggle free, but Caretaker held on tighter.

"What did you do!?" Whumpee cried, their breathing coming in short gasps.

"Shhh," Caretaker soothed, though their voice was strained, "I'm so sorry, but you need to sleep."

"No! I don't! I won't!"

"It's okay," Caretaker said, "I'll be right here the whole time. I promise to wake you up if you have a bad dream."

"No..."

Whumpee's body fell slack in Caretaker's arms. Caretaker checked to see that Whumpee's eyes were only half-open. They gently leaned Whumpee back against the pillows and covered them with the blankets.

"Hhng," Whumpee tried.

"It's gonna be okay," Caretaker said, running a hand through Whumpee's hair. Caretaker didn't stop until Whumpee's eyes had fluttered shut and their breathing had grown deep and even. When they were certain that Whumpee was asleep, Caretaker finally allowed themselves to cry.

[topsheepstudent]

Whump Fic - Worthless - Part 2

Previous

Content: degradation, dehumanization, implied past captivity, self-depreciation, emotional whump

-

Whumpee shivered as they sat on the porch outside of their team's safe house. Their thin t-shirt and shorts did little to shield them from the harsh winter air, but they didn't dare go back inside. They knew where they belonged.

Tears were streaming down their face, snot freezing as it dripped from their nose. They sobbed loudly, hugging themself in an attempt to keep warm. They were completely barefoot, and they hadn't bothered to grab a coat on their way out.

Animals don't get coats

Flurries of snow drifted down from the sky, landing delicately on Whumpee's eyelashes and atop their head. Their teeth were chattering. They longed to go back inside, but that heinous voice in their head refused to let them.

Bad dogs get put outside. This is where a stupid, worthless mutt like you belongs

It was hard to disagree with the voice. Whumpee had ruined their friends' supper. They needed to be punished.

"Whumpee?" Caretaker's frightened voice exclaimed. Whumpee glanced over their shoulder, their frozen muscles protesting as they did so. Caretaker was staring at them with genuine concern in their eyes. "What are you doing out here? You're going to freeze!"

Whumpee sniffled and ran a hand beneath their dripping nose. "Maybe that's what I deserve," they mumbled.

Caretaker quickly moved to sit beside them on the frozen porch. "Whumpee, why would you say something like that?"

Whumpee's sobs didn't let up. "I'm worthless," they cried. "All I do is mess things up."

Caretaker gently took hold of Whumpee's trembling hand. "Whumpee, that's not true. We love having you around."

Whumpee pulled their half-frozen hand out of Caretaker's warm grasp. They decided that they didn't deserve Caretaker's comfort. "All I'm good for is to be laughed at," Whumpee sobbed. "I'm nothing but a big joke to all of you. The only time anyone took me seriously was when I was kidnapped." Their voice broke on the last word and they buried their face in their hands. "Whumper was right," they cried, muffled by their hands. "You all see me as nothing more than a dumb pet, just like they did."

Caretaker frantically shook their head. "Whumpee, you are not a pet."

"Of course I am," Whumpee argued. "The only reason you all keep me around is for entertainment, but now that Whumper broke me, I'm worthless. It's only a matter of time before you get rid of me."

"Whumpee, stop," Caretaker said sternly. Whumpee looked up from their hands, only to find Caretaker glaring at them. The sight made them shrink into themselves.

Now, look what you did, you stupid mutt. Now, they're angry. They're definitely going to throw you away like the worthless heap of garbage you are

"Stop talking about yourself like that," Caretaker demanded. "You are not a pet and we are not getting rid of you. I'm not going to sit here and listen to you talk about yourself like you're worthless."

Great, now they're mad at you, you good-for-nothing bitch. You really can't do anything right, can you

Whumpee's chin was quivering, their eyes flooding with tears again. "I'm sorry, Caretaker," they said in the smallest, most pathetic voice Caretaker had ever heard. Whumpee lowered their head and hunched their shoulders. They were violently shivering. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry." Caretaker's frustrated expression softened, but Whumpee didn't see it. "I ruin everything," Whumpee sobbed. "I'm a bad pet." They said it more to themself than to Caretaker. "And bad pets sleep outside, where they belong. This is where I belong. I'm worthless, I'm ugly, I'm no better than a dog."

"Oh, Whumpee," Caretaker cooed. "That's not what I meant. You didn't-I'm sorry. You're not a dog."

Whumpee paused for a second and thought about that statement. "You're right," they whispered. A smile almost graced Caretaker's face, until Whumpee followed up with, "People like dogs. People want dogs. So-So, that means, I'm worse than a dog." Whumpee pulled their knees up to their chest and buried their face between them. "Who could ever want something as useless and broken as me?"

Caretaker didn't know what to say. They had never seen someone so broken before. They'd known Whumpee to make self-deprecating jokes before, but Caretaker could tell this wasn't a joke. They could tell that Whumpee believed every horrible thing they were saying about themself, and that broke Caretaker's heart.

"Whumpee, what-what can I do? How do I make you stop hurting?"

Whumpee only seemed to sob harder at that, which Caretaker didn't think was possible. "You can't stop it," they said. Caretaker struggled to hear their muffled words. "I deserve to hate myself."

Caretaker shook their head. "Whumpee, just come inside, please. If we don't go in soon, we're going to freeze."

Whumpee lifted their head from between their knees. They didn't look at Caretaker. "You should go inside, Caretaker. You shouldn't have to suffer with me."

Caretaker shook their head. "No, I'm not leaving you out here to freeze. If you're staying out here all night, then so am I." Caretaker crossed their arms over their chest.

Whumpee finally lifted their eyes to meet Caretaker's. "Wh-Why?"

"Because I care about you, and if you're not willing to come inside with me, then I'm just going to stay out here with you."

"But I deserve to be punished. You don't."

"Whumpee, you have never done anything wrong in your life. What would you need to be punished for?"

Whumpee's lower lip started trembling and they fought the urge to burst into tears once again.

They want to remind you of what you did wrong. They want you to admit how much of a screw-up you are

Whumpee was shivering violently now. Their lips were turning blue, but they didn't care. They knew they deserved it.

"I-I ruined supper and-and I m-made you m-mad," they stammered, half-frozen and struggling to get the words out.

Caretaker shook their head. "Whumpee, you didn't do either of those things. You're a good person and you make people happy. It breaks everyone's hearts to see you so scared and upset."

Whumpee hunched their shoulders. "I'm s-orry."

Caretaker frantically shook their head. "No, that's not what I-" they broke off when they noticed Whumpee flinch. They didn't know what to do. They audibly sighed. "Whumpee, please, come inside." By now, Whumpee's lips had started to turn blue. Their teeth were chattering and their tears were freezing on their face. "Please, Whumpee. I'll draw you a warm bath, we can reheat what's left of your supper, and then we can curl up on the couch and watch a movie, if you want."

Whumpee refused to look at Caretaker, lowering their head to hide their quivering lip and red-rimmed eyes. "R-Really?" they stammered.

Caretaker nodded. "Sure! We can invite the whole team and have one big slumber party in the living room! Or it can just be the two of us. Whatever you want. As long as you come inside with me, please."

Whumpee sniffled. "Why-Why would you do that for-for me?"

"To prove to you that I really do love and care about you, and I want you to be happy and safe and warm." Whumpee turned their face even further away from Caretaker's view. "I don't want you to feel like you have to punish yourself. I don't want you to be afraid of making a mistake. I don't want you to think of yourself as little more than a dog. I want you to love yourself as much as the rest of us do. I want you to be happy, Whumpee. That's all I want."

Whumpee's chin was trembling, along with the rest of their half-frozen body. Another stream of sobs rose out of their chest as they threw themself into Caretaker's arms, weeping into their shoulder. Caretaker happily wrapped their arms around their shivering friend before they gently pulled Whumpee to their feet and led them inside.

-

Part 3?

I have a couple more ideas for this story, if anyone is interested. It probably won't be more than 3 or 4 parts if I choose to continue it. Let me know if that's something anyone would be interested in!

[topsheepstudent]

Whump Fic - Worthless - Part 2

Previous

Content: degradation, dehumanization, implied past captivity, self-depreciation, emotional whump

-

Whumpee shivered as they sat on the porch outside of their team's safe house. Their thin t-shirt and shorts did little to shield them from the harsh winter air, but they didn't dare go back inside. They knew where they belonged.

Tears were streaming down their face, snot freezing as it dripped from their nose. They sobbed loudly, hugging themself in an attempt to keep warm. They were completely barefoot, and they hadn't bothered to grab a coat on their way out.

Animals don't get coats

Flurries of snow drifted down from the sky, landing delicately on Whumpee's eyelashes and atop their head. Their teeth were chattering. They longed to go back inside, but that heinous voice in their head refused to let them.

Bad dogs get put outside. This is where a stupid, worthless mutt like you belongs

It was hard to disagree with the voice. Whumpee had ruined their friends' supper. They needed to be punished.

"Whumpee?" Caretaker's frightened voice exclaimed. Whumpee glanced over their shoulder, their frozen muscles protesting as they did so. Caretaker was staring at them with genuine concern in their eyes. "What are you doing out here? You're going to freeze!"

Whumpee sniffled and ran a hand beneath their dripping nose. "Maybe that's what I deserve," they mumbled.

Caretaker quickly moved to sit beside them on the frozen porch. "Whumpee, why would you say something like that?"

Whumpee's sobs didn't let up. "I'm worthless," they cried. "All I do is mess things up."

Caretaker gently took hold of Whumpee's trembling hand. "Whumpee, that's not true. We love having you around."

Whumpee pulled their half-frozen hand out of Caretaker's warm grasp. They decided that they didn't deserve Caretaker's comfort. "All I'm good for is to be laughed at," Whumpee sobbed. "I'm nothing but a big joke to all of you. The only time anyone took me seriously was when I was kidnapped." Their voice broke on the last word and they buried their face in their hands. "Whumper was right," they cried, muffled by their hands. "You all see me as nothing more than a dumb pet, just like they did."

Caretaker frantically shook their head. "Whumpee, you are not a pet."

"Of course I am," Whumpee argued. "The only reason you all keep me around is for entertainment, but now that Whumper broke me, I'm worthless. It's only a matter of time before you get rid of me."

"Whumpee, stop," Caretaker said sternly. Whumpee looked up from their hands, only to find Caretaker glaring at them. The sight made them shrink into themselves.

Now, look what you did, you stupid mutt. Now, they're angry. They're definitely going to throw you away like the worthless heap of garbage you are

"Stop talking about yourself like that," Caretaker demanded. "You are not a pet and we are not getting rid of you. I'm not going to sit here and listen to you talk about yourself like you're worthless."

Great, now they're mad at you, you good-for-nothing bitch. You really can't do anything right, can you

Whumpee's chin was quivering, their eyes flooding with tears again. "I'm sorry, Caretaker," they said in the smallest, most pathetic voice Caretaker had ever heard. Whumpee lowered their head and hunched their shoulders. They were violently shivering. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry." Caretaker's frustrated expression softened, but Whumpee didn't see it. "I ruin everything," Whumpee sobbed. "I'm a bad pet." They said it more to themself than to Caretaker. "And bad pets sleep outside, where they belong. This is where I belong. I'm worthless, I'm ugly, I'm no better than a dog."

"Oh, Whumpee," Caretaker cooed. "That's not what I meant. You didn't-I'm sorry. You're not a dog."

Whumpee paused for a second and thought about that statement. "You're right," they whispered. A smile almost graced Caretaker's face, until Whumpee followed up with, "People like dogs. People want dogs. So-So, that means, I'm worse than a dog." Whumpee pulled their knees up to their chest and buried their face between them. "Who could ever want something as useless and broken as me?"

Caretaker didn't know what to say. They had never seen someone so broken before. They'd known Whumpee to make self-deprecating jokes before, but Caretaker could tell this wasn't a joke. They could tell that Whumpee believed every horrible thing they were saying about themself, and that broke Caretaker's heart.

"Whumpee, what-what can I do? How do I make you stop hurting?"

Whumpee only seemed to sob harder at that, which Caretaker didn't think was possible. "You can't stop it," they said. Caretaker struggled to hear their muffled words. "I deserve to hate myself."

Caretaker shook their head. "Whumpee, just come inside, please. If we don't go in soon, we're going to freeze."

Whumpee lifted their head from between their knees. They didn't look at Caretaker. "You should go inside, Caretaker. You shouldn't have to suffer with me."

Caretaker shook their head. "No, I'm not leaving you out here to freeze. If you're staying out here all night, then so am I." Caretaker crossed their arms over their chest.

Whumpee finally lifted their eyes to meet Caretaker's. "Wh-Why?"

"Because I care about you, and if you're not willing to come inside with me, then I'm just going to stay out here with you."

"But I deserve to be punished. You don't."

"Whumpee, you have never done anything wrong in your life. What would you need to be punished for?"

Whumpee's lower lip started trembling and they fought the urge to burst into tears once again.

They want to remind you of what you did wrong. They want you to admit how much of a screw-up you are

Whumpee was shivering violently now. Their lips were turning blue, but they didn't care. They knew they deserved it.

"I-I ruined supper and-and I m-made you m-mad," they stammered, half-frozen and struggling to get the words out.

Caretaker shook their head. "Whumpee, you didn't do either of those things. You're a good person and you make people happy. It breaks everyone's hearts to see you so scared and upset."

Whumpee hunched their shoulders. "I'm s-orry."

Caretaker frantically shook their head. "No, that's not what I-" they broke off when they noticed Whumpee flinch. They didn't know what to do. They audibly sighed. "Whumpee, please, come inside." By now, Whumpee's lips had started to turn blue. Their teeth were chattering and their tears were freezing on their face. "Please, Whumpee. I'll draw you a warm bath, we can reheat what's left of your supper, and then we can curl up on the couch and watch a movie, if you want."

Whumpee refused to look at Caretaker, lowering their head to hide their quivering lip and red-rimmed eyes. "R-Really?" they stammered.

Caretaker nodded. "Sure! We can invite the whole team and have one big slumber party in the living room! Or it can just be the two of us. Whatever you want. As long as you come inside with me, please."

Whumpee sniffled. "Why-Why would you do that for-for me?"

"To prove to you that I really do love and care about you, and I want you to be happy and safe and warm." Whumpee turned their face even further away from Caretaker's view. "I don't want you to feel like you have to punish yourself. I don't want you to be afraid of making a mistake. I don't want you to think of yourself as little more than a dog. I want you to love yourself as much as the rest of us do. I want you to be happy, Whumpee. That's all I want."

Whumpee's chin was trembling, along with the rest of their half-frozen body. Another stream of sobs rose out of their chest as they threw themself into Caretaker's arms, weeping into their shoulder. Caretaker happily wrapped their arms around their shivering friend before they gently pulled Whumpee to their feet and led them inside.

-

Part 3?

I have a couple more ideas for this story, if anyone is interested. It probably won't be more than 3 or 4 parts if I choose to continue it. Let me know if that's something anyone would be interested in!

[topsheepstudent]

Reflections pt.2

Part 1

Tw: Trauma, Eisoptrophobia, panic attack, hurt/comfort

Caretaker pulled another towel from the suitcase. It was more of a washcloth, but it would do to cover this small space on the counter.

“Whumpee, I’m almost done! How’s unpacking going?”

No response, unless there was and Caretaker couldn’t hear it. They were humming little tunes to themselves as they went along. They prompted Whumpee with another question, not realizing there wasn’t an answer to the first one.

“What do you wanna do for dinner tonight?” Caretaker asked loudly. This time, they noticed the fact that there wasn’t a response and checked the hallway.

“Whumpee?” They called. Still nothing.

Caretaker tried not to think much of it. Maybe they’re in the bathroom and didn’t hear me.

But the minutes went by and the cabin still remained quiet, no sounds of shuffles or footsteps or bags being opened. Caretaker was nervous.

They went down the hall and checked the bathroom to see if Whumpee was there. The light wasn’t on and the door was open. Caretaker could see the glint of the zipper for a moment before turning away and heading to the bedroom.

“Hey, is everything alright-?” They asked, and gasped when they saw Whumpee.

Caretaker rushed to their side, placing a hand on Whumpee’s shaking arm.

“Whumpee? Whumpee!” They knelt closer, shaking their elbows gently. “Talk to me!”

Whumpee still had no response, their eyes zoned out, like they were on autopilot, although Caretaker knew it was something worse than that.

“What could’ve done this in the room? I checked the whole house!” Caretaker muttered, still trying to get Whumpee’s attention. It wasn’t working, and that’s when they noticed the mirror shining from the closet.

Caretaker was angry, scolding themselves for not checking more throughly, and kicked the mirror frame in frustration. It caused it to fall but not break. Caretaker grabbed a blanket from the suitcase and covered the mirror before kneeling next to Whumpee again.

“Whumpee? Whumpee, it’s okay. You’re here. You’re safe. The mirrors gone now, come back.” Caretaker crooned softly, pulling Whumpee into a hug. They could feel their entire body vibrate, and if made them guilty. They weren’t careful enough in checking the house. They felt as though this was their fault.

Caretaker continued to whisper comforting words to Whumpee, until their body became less tense and they began to blink more often, though tears fell frequently as they did.

“I’m sorry…” Whumpee croaked, their voice being raspy from their crying.

“Don’t apologize.“ Caretaker said, running their fingers through Whumpee’s hair. “I should be sorry.”

Whumpee sniffled and rubbed their nose on their sleeve. “I…I heard their voice again… I thought I was with them again…” their voice trailed off as more tears fell from their eyes.

Caretaker pulled Whumpee in as close as they could. “You’re safe, Whumpee. Everything’s okay.” Whumpee buried their head into Caretaker’s chest. They gently cupped their face. Whumpee didn’t like their face being held at first, because Whumper used to do it, and so aggressively. But Caretaker started doing it to get Whumpee to look at them when they were scared, and suddenly they found it comforting. Whumpee needed comfort now.

“They’re never going to hurt you again.”

Taglist: @whumpy-whump-fanfics @bookbutterfly9 @whatwhumpcomments @whumpdreamz @diamond-flavored-whump @zoethehead @annoyinghairdoranchhumanoid-blog @astr0-mj

[topsheepstudent]

"Can I, uhm- uh..."

"You can ask me for anything, Whumpee. I won't be mad."

Whumpee swallowed, teary eyes darting away from Caretaker's gentle gaze. "Can I have a hug, please?" they whispered. "J-just a little one... please... I won't ask again."

Caretaker didn't hesitate to wrap Whumpee up in the biggest hug they could muster, peppering gentle kisses along their forehead and cheek. "Honey... you can always have a hug. It's okay."

Whumpee whimpered softly out of pure relief, pressing themselves closer and finally releasing the deep breath they hadn't realised they were holding in.

It was okay.

They were safe.

[topsheepstudent]

Whump ABC #5 - Emotional Whump

Based on the result of this poll

_

Team Leader walks into caretaker's office and sees the other scrub the floor, mutterings curses every now and then, shaken by sobs just as often. Tears stream out of caretaker's eyes as they try to get rid of the blood that seeped through the wood when they brought whumpee in, barely conscious - barely alive.

It's been hours since they were able to stabilise them, but it looks like caretaker themselves aren't stable right now. At least not emotionally.

"C'mon, just... just... fuck," they his as they scrub away, most of the blood is already gone but it isn't for caretaker. They still see blood everywhere.

Another sob shakes their body and team leader snaps out of their thoughts, finally moving forward to stand in front of the other, puttibg and a hand on their shoulder.

"Stop it. You won't be able to get rid of everything with that. You need to take a break," they say as sternly as they can while their heart shatters into tiny pieces as they look at the other.

Caretaker is a trembling mess, tears stream down their cheeks, eyes are reddened. "I can't. I have to... it's too much. Too much," caretaker mutters through sobs and team leader crouches down in front of them, pulling them closer and to a hug. Caretaker immediately holds onto their shirt and cries into their shoulder.

"It's just so much blood..."

"I know. Hey, I know. But we will scrub that away tomorrow. You need to rest after pulling off that miracle earlier. C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Team leader swallows hard as they help the other stand. They have never seen them like this before, but they always knew that caretaker is softer than they seem. It's been too much lately, but they'll try to make things better. They'll try...

[topsheepstudent]

Serving Tea

A writing exchange for @laffy-taffy-creations! Hope you like it! Also, big thanks to @creweemmaeec11 for helping me write this!

The prompt was as follows:

Set up: Whumpee who is currently staying with Caretaker after being rescued from a place they were used as a servant, every month Whumpee has a breakdown about 'not being used like they're meant to be' (thanks to brainwashing) and each month Caretaker promises to try but never does because they can't imagine ever asking anything of Whumpee.

Prompt: "Master/Mistress, you say this every time... *Let me do something for you*..."

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

“Whumpee, what’s wrong?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee tried to maintain their composure, but they let out a choked sob anyway. They stood in front of Caretaker with their head down, unable to look them in they eye. Caretaker got up out of their armchair and approached Whumpee, concern etched into their features. They wanted to hug them, but they refrained, knowing Whumpee wouldn’t know how to receive it.

“You s-still won’t use me like I’m meant to be!” Whumpee cried.

Caretaker bit their lip.

“I promise I’ll try-”

“You say that every time!” Whumpee blurted, then gasped.

Whumpee withdrew into themselves, frightened that they had interrupted their master. When they spoke again, it was much quieter.

“Let me do something for you, Master…”

Caretaker’s face fell. Whumpee sounded so… desperate. The last thing they wanted to do was feed into their conditioning, but…

“Okay, Whumpee, can you- can you bring me a… can you bring me a cup of tea?”

Whumpee blinked, looking up. Their face brightened as they nodded quickly. They practically ran to the kitchen to make Caretaker’s tea. Caretaker sighed, settling back into their armchair and burying their face in their hands.

Whumpee returned a few minutes later with a cup of tea in their hands. They handed it to Caretaker.

“Thank you, Whumpee,” Caretaker said quietly, “there’s something else I’d like you to do for me…”

“Of course, Master! Anything.”

“One, like I’ve been telling you, you can call me Caretaker, I’m not your master,” Caretaker said, “two, I want you to bring me another cup, empty this time.”

“Empty? O-of course, Mas- Caretaker, I’ll be right back.”

Whumpee left and returned with an empty teacup. Caretaker took it and poured half of their tea into it. Whumpee tilted their head, puzzled. Caretaker handed the second cup back to Whumpee.

“I don’t understand, M- Caretaker,” Whumpee said.

“It’s for you to drink,” Caretaker explained.

“Oh, Caretaker, I couldn’t-”

“Answer this for me, and be honest, do you not like tea?”

“Oh, I love it, but-”

“Would you not enjoy drinking it?”

“I would enjoy it-”

“Then that’s all there is to it,” Caretaker said with a soft smile, “that’s your tea, and you should drink it. Just like you have your room, and your freedom to do what you want. You don’t need permission from me, and you don’t have to do everything for me.”

Whumpee looked quite conflicted. It was as if Caretaker was speaking a foreign language to them. Hesitantly, they took a sip of the tea. They looked to Caretaker for reassurance.

“It’s alright,” Caretaker said, “no one’s going to punish you. Sit down.”

Caretaker gestured to the other armchair. Whumpee looked horrified.

“Whumpee, this is your home too, you can sit where you want.”

Whumpee gulped, and very gingerly sat down in the soft seat. When nothing bad happened, Whumpee relaxed just a tiny bit.

“There, see?” Caretaker said, “I know it’s hard, but you’ll get used to it, I promise.”

Whumpee nodded, then took another sip of tea. Caretaker held back the urge to cheer.

“Good job,” Caretaker said instead, “it’s good, isn’t it?”

Whumpee nodded with a small smile, taking another sip of their tea. This was the most progress they had made in months. One day, they’d be fully recovered, and wouldn’t feel the need to ask permission for anything or become subservient to a master. Caretaker eagerly awaited that day.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm

[topsheepstudent]

Serving Tea

A writing exchange for @laffy-taffy-creations! Hope you like it! Also, big thanks to @creweemmaeec11 for helping me write this!

The prompt was as follows:

Set up: Whumpee who is currently staying with Caretaker after being rescued from a place they were used as a servant, every month Whumpee has a breakdown about 'not being used like they're meant to be' (thanks to brainwashing) and each month Caretaker promises to try but never does because they can't imagine ever asking anything of Whumpee.

Prompt: "Master/Mistress, you say this every time... *Let me do something for you*..."

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

“Whumpee, what’s wrong?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee tried to maintain their composure, but they let out a choked sob anyway. They stood in front of Caretaker with their head down, unable to look them in they eye. Caretaker got up out of their armchair and approached Whumpee, concern etched into their features. They wanted to hug them, but they refrained, knowing Whumpee wouldn’t know how to receive it.

“You s-still won’t use me like I’m meant to be!” Whumpee cried.

Caretaker bit their lip.

“I promise I’ll try-”

“You say that every time!” Whumpee blurted, then gasped.

Whumpee withdrew into themselves, frightened that they had interrupted their master. When they spoke again, it was much quieter.

“Let me do something for you, Master…”

Caretaker’s face fell. Whumpee sounded so… desperate. The last thing they wanted to do was feed into their conditioning, but…

“Okay, Whumpee, can you- can you bring me a… can you bring me a cup of tea?”

Whumpee blinked, looking up. Their face brightened as they nodded quickly. They practically ran to the kitchen to make Caretaker’s tea. Caretaker sighed, settling back into their armchair and burying their face in their hands.

Whumpee returned a few minutes later with a cup of tea in their hands. They handed it to Caretaker.

“Thank you, Whumpee,” Caretaker said quietly, “there’s something else I’d like you to do for me…”

“Of course, Master! Anything.”

“One, like I’ve been telling you, you can call me Caretaker, I’m not your master,” Caretaker said, “two, I want you to bring me another cup, empty this time.”

“Empty? O-of course, Mas- Caretaker, I’ll be right back.”

Whumpee left and returned with an empty teacup. Caretaker took it and poured half of their tea into it. Whumpee tilted their head, puzzled. Caretaker handed the second cup back to Whumpee.

“I don’t understand, M- Caretaker,” Whumpee said.

“It’s for you to drink,” Caretaker explained.

“Oh, Caretaker, I couldn’t-”

“Answer this for me, and be honest, do you not like tea?”

“Oh, I love it, but-”

“Would you not enjoy drinking it?”

“I would enjoy it-”

“Then that’s all there is to it,” Caretaker said with a soft smile, “that’s your tea, and you should drink it. Just like you have your room, and your freedom to do what you want. You don’t need permission from me, and you don’t have to do everything for me.”

Whumpee looked quite conflicted. It was as if Caretaker was speaking a foreign language to them. Hesitantly, they took a sip of the tea. They looked to Caretaker for reassurance.

“It’s alright,” Caretaker said, “no one’s going to punish you. Sit down.”

Caretaker gestured to the other armchair. Whumpee looked horrified.

“Whumpee, this is your home too, you can sit where you want.”

Whumpee gulped, and very gingerly sat down in the soft seat. When nothing bad happened, Whumpee relaxed just a tiny bit.

“There, see?” Caretaker said, “I know it’s hard, but you’ll get used to it, I promise.”

Whumpee nodded, then took another sip of tea. Caretaker held back the urge to cheer.

“Good job,” Caretaker said instead, “it’s good, isn’t it?”

Whumpee nodded with a small smile, taking another sip of their tea. This was the most progress they had made in months. One day, they’d be fully recovered, and wouldn’t feel the need to ask permission for anything or become subservient to a master. Caretaker eagerly awaited that day.

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[topsheepstudent]

whumpee sat beside caretaker on their bed, their head resting on their chest, listening to caretakers rhythmic heartbeats. it had been two weeks since the two of them had been rescued from whumper’s basement, freed from the chains and the bruises and the blood that had enveloped their lives for months. they became inseparable; unable to go anywhere without the other, both too afraid of being recaptured and sent back to that terrible place.

whumpee’s fingers began to trail across caretaker’s skin: their shoulders, chest, arms, until they stop over a jagged, ugly scar. suddenly, the memories flood back: whumper handing them a knife, saying that if they didn’t hurt caretaker themselves, they’d kill them. they could hear caretaker’s pleas for whumper to not do this, their whispered reassurances to whumpee that they could take it and it would be okay — just to listen to whumper so neither of them would get hurt anymore.

“i gave you that scar.” whumpee’s voice was a mix of shame and fear. they looked up to caretaker, who had all but stilled. goosebumps blossomed over their skin at the declaration.

“no, whumpee—” they began.

“i gave you that scar,” this time, whumpee’s eyes were filled with tears, “i-i did it—i hurt you. i could’ve found a way to make it stop, i… i’m so sorry—”

caretaker gently grabbed whumpee’s hand, using their other to wipe away whumpee’s tears. “look at me,” the spoke softly, “you did not have a choice. you did not give me these scars, whumper did. they forced you to do this to me. it is not your fault, and i do not blame you. do you understand?”

with a choked sob, whumpee nods, and caretaker doesn’t hesitate to pull them into a hug.

[topsheepstudent]

"Shut up!" The whumper kicked the whumpee's shivering form, "stop it. Stop crying- I can't fucking think."

The whumpee lay curled up on the cold hardwood floor, trying to hold in their sobs, "s-sorry."

"Jesus," the whumper rubbed a hand over their eyes, "don't look at me like that."

The whumpee quickly averted their gaze, whimpering softly.

"Now you're acting like I'm the fucking bad guy," they walked over to the whumpee and sat down.

The whumpee drew into themselves, hugging their arms into their chest.

"Stop it," The whumper pushed on their shoulder, forcing them to lay on their back. The whumpee didn't resist, letting themself be moved. They were unable to hold in a light sob.

"Jesus you're fucking dramatic. Just chill out," the whumper threaded their fingers through the whumpee's hair, "you were being annoying ok? And it's not like I fucking stabbed you."

The whumpee nodded weakly as the whumper pet them.

"There's no reason to get all upset, ok?"

"y-yeah, sorry."

[topsheepstudent]

North [1] (Whump Writing)

I WROTE SOMETHING

Content: Cold Whump, Intimidating Caretaker, Restraints, Captivity, Unnamed Characters, A Pinch of Touch Starvation, Dangerous Weight Loss

"Um... H-Hi." Whumpee squeaked underneath the shadow of their Caretaker.

They heard that their friend's acquaintance was intimidating, but they still did not expect the heavy breathing soldier twice the size of them. The figure's breath left through a respirator in form of thick mist, and an axe was clutched tightly in their hand. They did look very warm though in all that snow protective gear compared to the backdrop of nothing but snow for miles through a hole in the wall.

Wow, whumper really dragged them out into the middle of nowhere huh?

There was no sign of Caretaker's human-ness. All their skin was covered up, and a fluffy winter hat paired with the strange respirator masked their entire head. They simply stood there. They simply said nothing.

Wind fled into the room from the hole in the wall to their cell that Caretaker made. Whumper was going to be real annoyed when they see that. Really annoyed.

Whumpee's skin gained a new reddish hue at the cold's sting. They enclosed their arms around themselves, pressing their rags of clothes to their scrawny form, despite knowing they could bring no heat to their own body. As they did so the chains against them clinked.

Chains... It didn't matter where Caretaker was going to take them, as long as it didn't inquire chains. Their neck felt weak holding the heavy metal brace that once dug into their skin, and now hung loosely.

A mechanical sigh hissed through the respirator as Caretaker lowered to Whumpee's level. Whumpee straightened up their posture as best as possible, and held their head for the embrace of touch, but they still shuddered when thick gloves met the underside of their head.

Caretaker softly prodded their fingers around the area, gently adjusting the direction of their face. The axe even made a quiet clatter when they sat it down. Whumpee failed to resist wincing at the feeling of Caretaker's fingertips brushing against the skin of their neck. The metal brace scraped to the side in careful sporadic intrevals.

Although unable to see Caretaker's eyes, the warmth of a stare buzzed along their collarbone.

With another strange sigh Caretaker rose to their feet, shaking their head, and gripped the axe.

Of course. Whumpee wasn't enough. They were never enough. Why would Caretaker want to take in another mouth to feed? Such a damaged one too? How could they let themselves get their hopes up on the words of a somewhat friend, if Whumpee could even call them that...

At least there wouldn't be chains on the other side. Hopefully.

The chain let out an exasperated urk. Whumpee tried to curl in. Too far from the wall, they could only manage a sort of slouch. Hugging their arms against each other they did nothing but shiver in the coolness of Caretaker's shadow.

They couldn't even look their final killer in the eyes, watching the form of darkness move across the floor. The shadow's arms departed from itself raising an axe high, before-

SNAP!

Bits of shattered chain scattered across the ground. A pinch of sparks followed after them as axe connected to stone flooring. Shaking, Whumpee strained a turn behind them. A severed set of chain links let out a dying breath when a small gust pressed the dust off of them.

Caretaker pulled onto the shortened half connected to Whumpee's neck, debating their satisfaction in its length.

All the wind left Whumpee's lungs as they felt two heavy pats across their back shoulders. Caretaker methodically sifted through the rucksack they brought, dragging out a coat several sizes larger than Whumpee. They kept giving Whumpee a look every time they rubbed at their eyes.

"Thank- Thank yo-you." Whumpee mustered as Caretaker became finally satiated in the amount of bundling up they wrapped their rescue into. Those words were muffled under a thin scarf.

Whumpee tried to show their new acquaintance that they could dress themselves. That went as miserably as it could, the two shiny red scrapes across one shin stood as a token to that. Now Caretaker didn't even let Whumpee try to slip their own respirator on.

Mechanical hissing. Not a chance for another word. Whumpee felt Caretaker's hands slide underneath them, and the iciness of stone was gone... as they were lifted into a bridal carry. Caretaker's gear was so warm, impossibly so.

Caretaker made sure to draw the heavy chains onto Whumpee's chest as to not pull against their neck. They tried to use the same buzzy warmth of a stare to get Caretaker's attention. They wanted to thank this friend of a friend with every ounce of their existence, ignoring their own automatic movements more attune to melting.

Melting into Caretaker's chest, they nuzzled their face against the hot fabric. Their eyes refused to stay open, the eyelids wanted to feel it too.

Caretaker felt frail hands do their strongest at gripping against their chest. A sigh of relief exhaled through the respirators.

[topsheepstudent]

Whumpees been getting better.

They’d been forcing themselves to put in the work it took. Taking their meds, following doctors orders, showing up to therapy sessions.

To everyone, it looked like they were on the fast track to a speedy recovery.

But late at night, when no one was around, they weren’t as perfect.

They clawed and scratched at healing wounds, sobbing till they gagged and choked, writhing like a frantic dying animal on the bathroom floor.

They had to hold it together, they couldn’t give up the act now, it was too late…

One night, Caretaker is passing through, looking for a sheet of notes, and heard a scuffling noise.

“Whumpee? You okay?”

They ease the bedroom door open and see no one, but the noise intensified. They pushed open the closet door, and sunk to their knees.

“S-stop! Don’t look at me!” Whumpee retched, shying away from Caretakers horrified stare, “Please, just go away…”

“What? Whumpee, no! Oh my god, we have to get you back to the doctors-“ they reach out to help them, and when Whumpee jerked away, Caretaker had blood on their hands.

“I’m fine- Just- Please don’t tell them, please, god, please…”

It was like they were falling apart at the seams, fully pushed to the edge.

“O-okay, I won’t tell anyone, okay,” Caretaker bargained, “But you have to let me help you, then.”

“You swear?”

“I swear.”

Caretaker helps Whumpee up and onto a chair for them to fix their popped stitches, unable to process the shaking figure before them. They had been laughing and cracking jokes all dinner, how had they held this in so long?

“Here, put your arm out, let me get the first aid kit…” they coax, deciding to give themselves a moment to think, “Is there any other injuries that need attention?”

Whumpees eyes were blank and glassy, sliding over their body like they were trying to see but couldn’t pull themselves back to the present enough to do so.

They shook their head.

“Okay…”

They didn’t quite believe that but unless they saw something, they’d take Whumpee’s word for it.

As gently as they could, they brushed a disinfectant pad over their arm, their heart pinching when Whumpee flinched away. “It’s over, that should be the worst of it… Now we’ll just wrap it up,” they soothe, winding the gauze around their arm then securing it with tape, “There, all good.”

“Thank you…”

“Anytime.”

Caretaker stooped to meet their eyes. “Really. Anytime you need me, I’ll be here.”

They nodded, again, not fully in the present.

“Whumpee. Look at me, okay?”

They obeyed, struggling to focus.

“I’m here for you. I love you. We all love you. We want to help you, so you don’t have to face this on your own. I know you’ve been trying to pretend that you’re perfectly fine but it’s okay if you aren’t.”

Finally, finally, it seems like their words sunk in.

Whumpees hand moved up to cover their mouth, their eyes squeezing shut as they sobbed without a sound.

“We’re here for you, everything’s gonna be okay…” Caretaker murmured, pulling them into a loose hug, “Everything is gonna be okay, I promise. We’re gonna make it okay.”

They stayed like that for who knows how long, Whumpee cradled against them as they cried themselves out.

Slowly, the tears tapered off, and they looked up, hazy and exhausted but here.

“I’m sorry…”

“What are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I just- I didn’t want to be a burden… I wanted-“ they cut themselves off as their voice starts to crack.

“What did you want Whumpee?”

“Could you love me like you used to?”

“Yes. Always.”

Whumpee shook their head.

“You used to never see me cry… How could you? And I- I don’t know if I can do it…”

“I love you, period. I respect you the same way, whether I’ve seen you cry or not. But what do you mean ‘if you can do it’? Do what?”

“I can’t…be strong, anymore. I don’t- It hurts too much to be strong right now.”

The confession seemed to crush them. They looked down, shame faced, as tears started again.

“You don’t have to be strong. Especially not now. You’ve been so strong for so long, you can take a break.”

“I don’t want anyone else to see me like this… Please, please don’t tell anyone-“

“I won’t. I promise.”

Whumpee nods, sighing as they tried to wipe their eyes and pull themselves together.

“You can rest with me. If you want to be strong in front of everyone else, that’s okay, but behind closed doors, you can lean on me. I know you’re strong, even when you’re tired. I’ll never think any different.”

They looked up from their lap, their shoulders slumping and their entire body going limp. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Can you stay with me? Just for tonight?”

“Of course.”

[topsheepstudent]

Post non-con recovery scene ideas with caretaker and whumpee?

tw: r*pe aftermaths, sa, ptsd, ed

whumpee flinched at every physical contact, no matter how light or gentle (no matter if it was nonsexual or if it came from caretaker or a doctor or a nurse), because their mind had associated all kinds of physical contact with the time they were assaulted now. 

caretaker wanted to hug them, but they understood whumpee’s struggle and remained their distance for the sake of whumpee’s wounds (both mental and physical). 

whumpee knew caretaker wasn’t going to hurt them, they just couldn’t help being terrified by any physical contact now.

though it became an issue when whumpee had to be examined by doctors and nurses. it pained caretaker to have to hold whumpee down and keep whumpee still when the medical procedure was being performed on them to make sure whumpee was healing properly, and whumpee cried and whimpered and just tried to get away because so many hands were touching them and all they could think of was their assaulters forcing themselves on them.

when the procedure was done, caretaker let go of whumpee (despite their wanting to keep holding and comforting whumpee) and whumpee leaped out of their arms to go hide somewhere they believed would shield them from… anything, sometimes they went and hid behind a drawer, hugging themself with their knees against their chest, sometimes they went and hid underneath the bed and wouldn’t come out for hours.

whumpee refused to make eye contact with anyone, including caretaker.

at night whumpee couldn’t sleep alone, so caretaker took the couch in the room with them and kept the nightstand lamp on throughout the night. (sleeping in the same bed with whumpee was still too much, and caretaker understood that.)

loss of appetite. caretaker never wanted to have to force whumpee to eat, but when it’d been a while since the last time whumpee ate anything and they were putting their health at risk, caretaker had no choice but to make sure whumpee ate. (caretaker was still being gentle, of course, but for whumpee’s health, they couldn’t let whumpee leave the table until whumpee finished at least half of the food on their plate.)

whumpee’s obedience both relieved and angered caretaker, because whumpee was never this “docile” prior to their assault. now whumpee wouldn’t talk back or argue and would do anything they were told to do (like whumpee was afraid they would get punished if they disobeyed). sure, whumpee was eating now. because caretaker told them to. and while it was for whumpee’s own good and it was a good thing that whumpee ate, whumpee’s complete obedience still disturbed caretaker. 

it angered caretaker, yes, but caretaker wasn’t angry with whumpee. they were angry with whumpee’s assaulters, and they had to make sure their anger was well hidden so that whumpee couldn’t see it and think caretaker was angry at them.

besides the trauma, whumpee believed they were being a burden, that they were holding caretaker and everybody else down by being so “difficult” and they blamed themself for it. they also believed they didn’t deserve caretaker’s kindness. thus caretaker sat down with whumpee and patiently explained why whumpee could never be a burden and why caretaker was glad to have whumpee here with them now. whumpee… knew that, deep down, but caretaker’s reassurance didn’t necessarily mean whumpee’s own mind would magically stop feeding them poison just because caretaker said nice things to them, did it? — caretaker only said this because they had to, because they pitied you, said the voices in whumpee’s head, but whumpee told caretaker they believed them nonetheless, because they obviously wasn’t going to start an argument with caretaker, or with anybody, for that matter.

the first time whumpee willingly let caretaker hug them, they hesitantly and carefully crawled onto caretaker’s lap. It was a rather impressive progress and caretaker knew that, they also knew to be very gentle and mindful as to not do anything that could overwhelm or trigger whumpee’s trauma. 

only when caretaker was certain whumpee was okay with this did they softly wrap their arms around whumpee’s back as whumpee rested their head on caretaker’s chest, curling in on themself on caretaker’s lap.

still on caretaker's lap, whumpee finally looked up to meet caretaker's eyes and gave them a soft smile. it was a sad smile, and it was barely noticeable. but it was a smile nonetheless.

caretaker really thought they would never get to see whumpee's smile again.

[topsheepstudent]

A Real Nightmare | a.a. | 4

Astarion x fem!tav

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mildly suggestive themes. Nudity, almost sex, talking about consent and insecurities

Author’s Note: I promise I didn’t give up on this I just got distracted by the fuckin wizard

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

It wasn’t that they didn’t have a lot of alone time in the following days since Tav confessed her desire for Astarion. It was just that she had decided to let Astarion make whatever move he wanted first –if he ever made one. 

While he admitted he found her attractive the other night, he told her that she “smelt like a wet dog” and couldn’t bear the idea of bedding her like that. Tav had rolled her eyes at his dismissal, chalking it up to him putting up the walls she had managed to break down. But she didn’t push him, and simply thanked him again for letting her use his tent and bedroll for the night.

“I suppose we could share until you get your own,” he had offered dismissively, waving his hand as he reopened his book. 

And thus started a strange co-living situation that was a step above what they had already been doing. They had plenty of alone time in camp, with her sharing his tent each night. But Astarion either didn’t want to make a move or didn’t know he could —both of which made Tav’s heartache one way or another. 

Following a particularly nasty fight against a couple of death Shepard (truly, could they catch a break?), Tav's magic had taken a rather chaotic turn, ensnaring everyone and anything that stepped too close to her. Karlach and Gale had gotten away just fine, though Astarion had briefly slashed at the roots to free himself. Even she was stuck in the vines that had appeared after a particularly powerful spell, preventing her from being able to help further than casting a fire bolt here and there. 

“We could just leave her here,” Astarion suggested, standing right at the edge of the vines that tangled her up now. 

“Astarion, you ass —,” she started, but was cut off by a vine jabbing itself into her calf and causing her to curse angrily. 

“And risk you biting one of us, instead?” Karlach chuckled, hacking away at the vines. “C’mon, soldier. Simmer down so we can get you out.”

“If it was that easy,” Tav huffed in frustration, throwing her hands up. “I damn well wouldn’t be here.”

“Perhaps if you knew how to control yourself,” Astarion offered unhelpfully. “We wouldn’t be picking you from the bushes.”

“You are not helping, Astarion!” 

“You have to remember that the power is within you,” Gale reminded her, smiling that know-it-all smile of his that Tav really didn’t want to see at the moment, even though she knew he meant well. “Your powers come from ancient forces of chaos. They churn within you —waiting to burst free at any time. You just need to take a deep breath and —,”

“I do not need a lesson in magic right now!” She snapped at him, only worsening the vines that wrapped around her. She held her breath for a moment, looking at the wizard. “Gale, I do not need to be reminded of what my magic does. I am painfully aware. You can teach me later.”

Then she heaved another sigh, looking to Karlach now as the tiefling broke through the original set of vines. Tav was able to shake loose the newest round, stepping clumsily out of the disaster. 

Clumsily being the key word, as the moment she thought she was free, another root wrapped around her ankle. She yelped as she fell face first, but Gale was there in a beat, catching her before she hit the ground. The vine disappeared, leaving her clutching onto the front of Gale’s robes with his hands on her waist. 

“Careful there, Tav,” he chuckled, helping her stand up right again. His hands sat just below her waist, firmly grounding her. “Can’t have you losing your balance now of all times.”

His hands lingered a bit longer than they needed on her waist —long enough that when she did pull herself away, she saw the annoyance on Asterion's face. She wanted to scold the vampire —he couldn’t be jealous or annoyed that someone else was willing to touch her if he didn’t do it himself. Or when he was being an absolute menace towards her instead of helping. But instead she stood up straight and ignored him and Gale entirely, pushing forward to the monastery. 

“We should probably make camp,” Gale suggested as she and Karlach pressed on. “We need to rest if we’re going to get into the crèche without issue.”

“I hate it when he’s right,” Karlach snickered, elbowing Tav. 

The sorceress gasped some at the singeing of her robes, looking up at her companion for a moment. Karlach looked sorrowful, apologizing frantically. But Tav broke out into an easy smile. 

“Now I know how Astarion felt when I lit him on fire,” she laughed, looking at the burn hole in her side. “Hells, I guess we do need to set up —I can’t fight with this.”

“You certainly cannot compare your light burn to actually lighting me on fire,” Astarion sneered as he appeared at her side, eyeing the hole in her robes. 

“Well, I can. And I did.”

*****

“I’m not fixing that for you,” Astarion stated as he entered the tent that evening. 

Tav sat in her night clothes —something loose fitting and breezy, but easy to fight in if needed —with a needle and thread in her hand. She squinted with her good eye —the other having been stupidly (but voluntarily) replaced by the one Volo had when he tried to remove the parasite and thus felt too foreign to use still. 

“Why would you?”  She asked, threading the needle carefully. Her tone was curious, though her eyes were fixed on her task at hand. “Can you even sew?”

“Of course I can sew,” he sneered as he dropped down beside her, yanking the tool from her hand. “Unlike you.”

“Astarion, I don’t —,”

“Oh, be quiet.”

Tav grudgingly complied with his request, her irritation evident as she watched him work. However, as she observed Astarion's nimble fingers expertly maneuvering the needle, her annoyance gradually gave way to curiosity. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs and leaning in closer, intrigued by his unexpected skill. Despite her initial skepticism, she found herself impressed by the effortless way he patched up the hole in her robes. There was a certain finesse to his movements, a hint of a life she couldn't quite grasp. It was as if he had once been accustomed to having others cater to his every need, yet now he was here, performing a task with a dexterity that surprised her.

“Where did you learn to sew?” She asked, watching curiously as his hands moved carefully but quickly around her clothes. 

“When you’re a slave for two hundred years, you learn a thing or two.”

She blanched, words caught in her throat at his comment. Of course he had to know how to take care of himself and his things; she hadn’t even considered that in her little judgmental tirade.

“Hells, I’m sorry —I shouldn’t have —I’m an idiot.” 

“You don’t need to apologize for something you weren’t even alive for,” he amended, though his eyes were fixed on her garments and he refused to look at her. “There’s plenty else for you to apologize for.”

Tav's brows furrowed as she mulled over Astarion's cryptic remark. Before she could press for clarification, he spoke again, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Though I must admit, it's quite the spectacle witnessing you and Gale, so cozy and chummy. Almost makes one wonder if there's more to your partnership than meets the eye. Or perhaps you're just practicing your innocent act for when you're not knee-deep in trouble," he quipped, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he finally glanced up to meet her gaze.

“Sweet hells,” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air. Tav's irritation flared at Astarion's insinuation, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze head-on. "You know very well, Astarion, there's nothing between Gale and me," she retorted, her voice tinged with exasperation. "I've made it abundantly clear who I want in this camp, and it's not some imaginary love affair with Gale."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, wondering why Astarion insisted on needling her about nonexistent romances when the truth of her feelings was plain for anyone with eyes to see. Yet, despite her frustration, she couldn't help but notice the slight tension in his posture, the way his gaze flickered away before returning to hers with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability.

“I told you the other night –it’s you,” she reminded him, taking the needle and clothes from his hands, forcing him to focus on her and her alone. “Whatever you want, whatever you decide —I promised you that –but you haven’t decided anything. You feed on me every night, we share your tent, you’re fixing my damn clothes –but you cannot be jealous of Gale putting his hands on me when you won’t.”

Something dangerous flashed in Astarion’s eyes at her scolding, and suddenly she was being shoved to the floor of the tent. She was pinned beneath Astarion, whose thighs caged her legs in while his arms trapped her from above. His face was close to hers, close enough that their noses barely brushed against one another. 

All the blood rushed straight between her thighs, heart racing against her rib cage as if trying to escape. For the first time since she met Astarion, she was seeing the spawn he was. 

And it was all too alluring. 

“Do you know why I haven’t touched you, Tav?” He asked, leaning in closer now. Baiting her, goading her into making the first move. But she shook her head, pressing herself further into the ground. “Because if I do, I will not stop.”

Clenching her thighs together, Tav couldn’t help the sound that escaped her lips –an almost lewd hum of desperation. Asterion's eyes were locked on hers, keeping her gaze from straying from the rubies that made up his irises. 

“What if,” she managed to breathe out, tentatively reaching up to touch his cheek. The danger that Astarion presented melted just barely at her touch, softened the edges of his eyes, as she finished, “I don’t want you to stop?”

It was a heartbeat later, if even, that his mouth was on hers, tongue parting her lips to taste her. Tav moaned into his mouth, her hands reaching up to pull at his silver hair and tug him even closer. She tried to part her legs, to wrap them around him, but he still caged her in and he wouldn’t budge as he pulled away from her mouth to trail his lips over her jaw. Across her cheek, under her ear, then down her throat —right over the only spot he had touched her in weeks: the bruised bite marks on her throat. 

Asterion's teeth grazed the spot, though he did not break the skin as she writhed under him. Her hands still had purchase in his hair as his tongue trailed down the column of her throat. 

“Astarion, please,” she sighed dreamily.

“Please, what, darling?” He asked, voice muffled slightly by the skin of her throat. “Use your words for me.”

“Just —touch me, please. Anywhere —everywhere —Gods, please.”

Finally, one of his hands pulled her leg out from between his thighs, spreading her so he could fit there instead. Without hesitation, she hiked her leg over his hip, pulling him closer to get whatever friction against her core that she could. The feeling of him pressed against her forced a hiss from her throat again. 

The hand that had pulled away was trailing up her leg now, over her knee and up her thigh. So close to where she wanted —where she needed him to touch. But instead, he continued upwards until his nails tugged at the laces of her pants and loosened them. She didn’t question the movement, instead lifting her hips and untangling herself briefly from him to shimmy her pants down and off.

“Eager little pup, aren’t we?” He teased as she finally let go of his hair to reach for his pants next. Astarion stopped her however, swatting her hand away. “Unfortunately, I want you bare before me first.” 

She huffed in frustration, but it was replaced by another sigh as he slipped his hand under her shirt, cold fingers brushing over her heated skin until he was pinching her taut nipple. Gods, she was thankful for the fact that she stopped wearing her undergarments to bed (entirely in case of a moment like this, if she was perfectly honest). 

But if he wanted her bare, then he would get just that —anything to get him to touch her more. And so she reached back down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, throwing it to the side. 

“Wait,” she breathed out, fingers stilling along the waistline of his pants. 

Astarion pulled back slightly, eyes darting between her hands and her face, frowning deeply. One of her hands reached up, resting against the pale skin of his chest. 

“I just —I need to know that you actually want this, Astarion,” she admitted, dropping her hand from his waistline, as if to show him she wasn’t moving forward without him. “I know that’s ridiculous and I’m already naked and you’re literally on top of me but —,”

She let out a surprised yelp when he kissed her again —but it was softer than before; careful. He didn’t deepen it, though, and instead pulled away just enough to look down at her once more. 

“How is it you care so much about what I want when you’re getting exactly what you want?” He whispered, nudging her nose with his.

“I told you, I want —,”

“Yes, yes —you want what I want —but do you know how annoyingly sweet you are? How you just…you ruined my plans and now you’re stopping me from giving you what you want because you care so damn much about what I want —,”

“Wait, what? What plans?” She interrupted, pushing herself away from him some, grabbing her shirt to try to cover herself up as she stared at him. 

Astarion sat back on his knees, pursing his lips some as he realized that he had given away more than he meant to. 

“I just —,” he hesitated a moment, looking down at his hands for a moment before shaking his head. “Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan  —seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy —instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you.”

“Astarion, what are —,”

“Shush,” he scolded, narrowing his eyes down at her as she sat up. “This is…this is where my nice, simple plan fell apart. Tav…you’re incredible. And you deserve something real.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Tav clutching her shirt to her chest as she processed Asterion's confession. What it sounded like he was saying was that whatever this was —whatever was happening between them —wasn’t real. And that realization squeezed her heart tight in her chest as she started to put her clothes back on. 

The tent was suddenly too small; too cramped. She was overwhelmed and naive, just like he had thought weeks ago when they met. And she needed to get away from him as she tried to stand and hurry out. 

“I’m sorry, Astarion. I should have —I didn’t —,”

But he grabbed her wrist, quick to stand and pulled her back to him. 

“Tav, stop,” he demanded, though he didn’t sound all that convincing. “You deserve something real —I want us to be something real.”

Asterion's fingers flexed against her wrist, before he finally pulled her back into his embrace. Tentatively —almost timidly —he wrapped his arms around her waist and back, looking down at her with soft, crimson eyes. 

“I…I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what comes next, or what to do. And the idea of…intimacy or sex, I don’t…I don’t know how to separate the good and the bad. But I know that…I want you. All of you.”

Tav's touch mirrored his, reaching up to run the back of her hand against his cheek. He melted into her touch, leaning into it as he closed his eyes. He was so vulnerable in this moment; the walls he had spent so long hiding behind were breaking down and Tav’s heart ached at the thought that he was scared of her —of her rejection, of her feelings. 

“I want you too, Astarion,” she promised, pressing her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and guiding him closer. Her nose brushed against his as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I don’t need to sleep with you to know I care about you. Whatever you need —however long you need —I can wait for you.”

His eyes searched hers, as if trying to catch a lie. While it hurt, not knowing if he truly believed her, she understood the fear. After everything he’d been through, there was more reason to assume the worst than not. 

“You are more than what your body can do,” she promised him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. 

“I…,” he paused, swallowing down whatever he was going to say, before pulling away. “I’m afraid I may have ruined the mood, darling.”

She waved off his concern, laughing at the idea. “The only mood I’m in is for a cuddle. How does that sound?”

Astarion smiled —a real, soft smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes —and he nodded. “A cuddle…sounds nice, actually.”

Tav grinned up at him before pulling away from his embrace –not enough to stop touching him; her fingers trailed down his arm until they latched onto his fingers –so she could take over his spot on the pillows he’d piled up. Although hesitant, Astarion slowly joined her in the mess of pillows, about to lay back when she pulled him into her arms. He seemed surprised by the notion that she would be holding him and not the other way around, but he didn’t argue as she wound one arm around him and held him close to her chest. The other found his hair, running her nails over his scalp and she swore he purred at the touch. She’d keep that in mind.

Melting into her embrace, Asterion's arms wrapped around her middle, holding her tight against him as if she would disappear. What she would give to be able to read his thoughts in this moment; to know if he felt safe like this; if he felt loved like this. Because that's what she wanted –to give him that safety, that love that he so desperately wanted; that he deserved.

Perhaps he heard her thoughts himself, because as she drifted off into a restful sleep, she heard him murmur into her skin,

“Thank you.”

[topsheepstudent]

A Real Nightmare | a.a. | 3

Astarion x fem!tav

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of sex. A little bit of angst. Mild trauma bonding.

Author's Note: I really did plan on them banging in this part but then I got in my feelings and then....this happened.

Talk to Me! | Series Masterlist | AO3

She jolted awake, the darkness of her surroundings swallowing her confusion. A hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her from the clutches of sleep. Her heart raced as she tried to make sense of it all. This wasn't the familiar touch of Asterion, nor the comforting confines of her camp. Panic clawed at her throat, threatening to choke her.

"You're awake, good," came a voice, gentle yet urgent. It felt like a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty that engulfed her. With trembling hands, she reached out to grasp at the reality slipping through her fingers.

As she struggled to focus, she noticed the figure before her, bathed in an otherworldly glow. His armor gleamed like starlight, and his eyes held a wisdom that seemed to stretch beyond time itself. He was graying around the edges, the only indication of his age. Recognition flickered within her, a memory just out of reach.

"I know your voice," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've heard it before."

He nodded, a somber acknowledgment passing between them. "We have met," he confirmed, his words carrying the weight of shared history. "More than once."

She tried to piece together the fragments of memory, but slipped through her fingers. Something about a shipwreck, a beach strewn with wreckage and the promise of salvation. His presence felt like a thread connecting her past to her present, weaving a tapestry of destiny.

"We have met," he repeated, drawing her attention back to the present. "But now, I am here to save you again, Tav."

Her name echoed in the caverns of her mind, a beacon in the darkness. She followed him, stepping into a realm that felt both alien and achingly familiar. Reality twisted and contorted around her, a surreal landscape painted with the brushstrokes of possibility.

"Don't worry, love," he reassured, his voice a lifeline in the storm. "You will not become a mind flayer, not while I'm around. I will protect you."

She hesitated, uncertainty gnawing at her resolve. But his hand extended towards her, offering solace amidst the chaos. With trembling fingers, she reached out, her touch igniting a spark of recognition deep within her soul.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"There is a great potential within you," he explained, his words like a guiding light in the darkness. "But you must learn to wield it."

She struggled to comprehend the magnitude of his words, the weight of the future resting upon her shoulders. But before she could protest, he ushered her forward, unveiling a vision of turmoil and strife. Was he truly asking her to accept this parasite writhing in her mind? Promises were meaningless when he wouldn’t even tell her his name. Worthless when she couldn’t even trust her own mind.

"What you see is a fight for the very fate of Faerun," he explained, his voice grave with solemnity. "A fight we are losing—for now."

She watched in silence as spectral beings descended upon a ship, their presence a harbinger of doom. Fear clutched at her heart, threatening to consume her whole.

"You can change that, Tav," he implored, his eyes burning with determination. "But only if you embrace your potential."

She hesitated, the weight of his words settling like a cloak around her shoulders. But as she watched the chaos unfold before her, a fire ignited within her soul. 

"I don't understand," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

But before she could seek clarification, he was gone, leaving her alone in the void. Reality shattered around her, fragments of truth swirling like leaves in the wind.

And then, with a gasp, she awoke, the remnants of the vision fading like wisps of smoke. 

Sitting up in her bedroll, Tav took in her surroundings with a sense of disorientation. She wasn't outside by the fire where she fell asleep earlier in the night. Instead, she found herself within the confines of someone's tent. Looking around for a moment, trying to get her bearings straight, she realized it was Astarion's tent that she was occupying now.

Outside, a storm raged on, the sound of rain pounding against the canvas creating a backdrop to her thoughts. She pulled her knees to her chest, noting the scattered belongings and the subtle signs of occupation. Astarion must have brought her inside from the rain, she deduced, her gaze lingering on his wet clothes strewn across the floor. 

Then she noticed her own clothes were on the floor as well and for a moment, she panicked, looking over herself. However, she was dressed –sort of, at least. It was one of Asterion's night shirts –loose and a bit tattered on closer inspection –but dry against her otherwise rain slicked skin. While she wasn’t wearing anything beyond the shirt and her underwear, she wondered why Astarion, of all people, decided to bring her in from the storm.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement from where he stood perched at the flap of his tent. He wasn't looking at her –instead keeping his eyes out on the storm. Her eyes trailed over the markings on his back, exposed skin raised into scars that covered the entirety of his pale flesh. He had explained them previously, having gone on a bit of a personal tirade about Cazador and the torture forced on Astarion. Tav had listened intently that night –only for him to blow it off like it wasn’t clearly traumatizing for him.  "Someone’s finally awake –I hope whatever dream was keeping you so occupied was worth soaking everything you own.”

“I…yeah, I guess it was,” she managed to say, though she didn’t know how to explain what she had experienced in her dreams. She wondered, momentarily, if any of the others had a similar dream. “Have you tranced tonight, yet?”

Astarion shook his head, finally turning away from the storm to look down at her. “Too much is happening to properly rest, I’m afraid. Perhaps tomorrow. Besides –you are using my bedroll.”

Silence filled the space between them for a beat, with Tav still processing everything that had happened in her dream. His eyes were on her, piercing and analytical, even as he moved through his tent and collected a book from the stack beside her. 

“I didn’t mean to take over your space,” she finally sighed, running a hand through her wet hair. “Thank you for bringing me inside.”

Astarion snatched two of the larger cushions she had been laying on and tossed them to the side, sitting down on them himself. His legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed, and he opened the book in his hands, his attention no longer on her.

Then he shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as his eyes scanned the pages of his book. "No harm done," he replied, waving one hand dismissively. "Consider it repayment of sorts…for the blood. And besides –I couldn’t bear the idea of drinking from someone ill, Tav. The sickly don’t taste nearly as good as the healthy.”

Stretching her bare legs in front of her once more, Tav raised a brow at him as she tried to read the title of his book. Noble Blood, Common Heart, a silly little romance novel that she had picked up from one of the villages they had traveled through. Most of the books she snagged she simply left in the camp for whoever wanted to read them. Something about Astarion choosing a romance novel was almost funny to her.

“Do you like it?” She asked, motioning to the book in his hands. “I haven’t had a chance to read it yet.”

He glanced over the top of the book, eyeing her closely for a moment before he closed it. “It fills the void.”

“The void of…what, exactly?” 

“Desire, boredom, lust –whatever fits the bill,” he explained simply, returning his attention to the book. Tav’s brows furrowed in thought, trying to understand what in the hells he meant by the comment. He must have sensed her confusion because he drawled out, “Sex, my dear. It fills the void of wanting to have sex.”

At that, she barked out a laugh and looked at him funny. “I can’t imagine any book filling the void of actual intimacy, but to each their own, I suppose.”

Astarion chuckled, a sound that held a hint of mischief. "Ah, but you underestimate the power of literature, my dear Tav," he retorted, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Words have a way of stirring the imagination, igniting passions that transcend the physical realm."

Tav raised an eyebrow, skeptical yet intrigued by his words. "So, you're saying that reading about it is just as satisfying as the real thing?"

He shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps not quite as satisfying, but it certainly offers a...distraction," he replied cryptically, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

She shook her head, unable to suppress a smile at his audacity. "Well, I suppose everyone has their own way of coping with desire," she conceded, her tone laced with amusement. "Though I’m certain there’s better distractions out here than books.”

“Are there?” He questioned, setting the book down now to finally give his full attention back to her. “Unless you’re suggesting you may be a better distraction.”

“I –what? No, I was just –I meant –,”

“You’re too pretty when you blush, love,” he teased, resting his chin in his hand as he looked her over. “All hot and bothered and I’m not even doing anything to cause it.”

Tav bit her cheek, feeling the heat rushing to her up her chest and to her ears. Astarion was too good at getting her flustered –or hot and bothered as he put it –and he was right. He wasn’t even trying to. Which only frustrated Tav more.

“If you want to have sex with me, you only have to say so,” he continued to tease, brow raised in a way that could only be described as seductive. 

“I don’t want to —I mean, of course I want to, but I don’t want…I just —,” she couldn’t manage to get the words out, embarrassed by the shift in conversation. 

There wasn’t any reason to deny her desires for the spawn in front of her. And it wasn’t as if she was some inexperienced girl; what she lacked in friends in Otherus was made up for in bed mates when she felt inclined. But that didn’t make this conversation any less embarrassing. 

She did want to sleep with him; but she wanted more than that —at least, she thought she did. She liked Astarion for all his flaws, and while she wasn’t in love with him by any means, she could certainly see herself loving him. 

More importantly though, she knew that what he was offering —a tryst in his tent —was his way of repaying her for letting him feed off of her every night. As if he owed her anything for ensuring he was strong enough. And Tav couldn’t bear the thought that he might actually think so lowly of her that all she’d want was sex from him. 

“I do want to sleep with you, Astarion,” she finally admitted, covering her face with her hands for a moment. “What I don’t want is for you to feel like you have to.”

This must have caught the elf off guard, because his brows knitted together in confusion as he sat silently for a few seconds. But his smirk returned —though it wasn’t the same as before. It was timid, not all there. 

“I can assure you, darling, if I didn’t want to —I wouldn’t be offering.”

She eyed him cautiously before finally standing and making her way to his side of the tent. Even with all her caution, she could see his shoulders tensing up as she approached. 

“I don’t want you to want me because you think that’s all I want, Astarion,” she explained, sitting on her knees in front of him. Her hands rested in her lap. “I want you to want me because that’s what you truly want. Not repayment, not obligation —not some trick you think will work on me because I’m naive. Because it is something you want for yourself.”

Astarion opened his mouth to comment, but shut it just as quick. Slowly, he sat up, the facade of the charming rogue slipping just enough that she was able to see the confusion –the fear, really –behind his eyes. While it was easy to assume that everyone she had managed to bring together had some sort of trauma they needed to sort through, something about the way Astarion held himself in this moment said quite a bit.

“You have a choice,” she finally said as he rested on his knees in front of her. “You know what I want –but I can and I will take ‘no’ for an answer if you do not want the same as I do.”

“Why?”

She wasn’t sure he meant to ask that, because his brows knit together and he snapped his mouth shut immediately after asking. But she hesitantly reached out to take his hand. And when he didn’t pull away, she rested her other on top of his, holding it carefully.

“Because we all deserve a choice, Astarion,” she promised, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I know what it’s like to lose my choice to say no, and I will never take that from someone else. Even if that someone happens to think he doesn’t have a choice.”

“I…,” Astarion trailed off, resting his free hand over hers now, their hands stacked on one another’s. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I do love when I leave you speechless,” she teased, mimicking his accent dramatically –easing out of the tension that had filled the tent.

Astarion laughed –an actual, proper laugh with a smile that she had never seen on him before –and Tav decided in that moment she would find more ways to bring him little bits of joy.

[topsheepstudent]

A Real Nightmare | a.a. | 2

Astarion x fem!tav

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Terrible flirting. Biting. Tav is horny lmao

Author’s Note: I played Baldur’s gate for 7.5 hours today AND wrote this. Fuck yeah. GIF from @rinriya

Talk to me! | Series Masterlist

“Have you ever considered –I don’t know –not being the way you are?”

Astarion scoffed, waving his hand dismissively at her question. “Please, and miss out these little moments only you and I share? Darling, I could never.”

She didn’t respond, though Astarion knew better than to assume she wouldn’t bite back a bit.

With the loss of her tent, Tav had resigned herself to sleep on her bedroll under the stars. However, that meant that she had opened herself up to being bothered by everyone and anyone walking by –and Astarion truly couldn’t help himself. She was easy to rile up, and more importantly, easy to fluster. His plan was simple enough –manipulate her into falling for him, ensure she won’t turn on him, cut her loose when the tadpole ordeal was done with.

Easy enough.

Her bite back came in the form of a jab in his ribs with her staff –a little too close for comfort as far as he was concerned.

“What in the hells was that for?” He hissed, yanking away from her as she settled back into a sitting position. Astarion held his side, sneering at the ache that bloomed just below his ribcage.

“For being annoying.”

“Oh, I’m sorry –here I thought I was entertaining your little crush.”

“Crush? Crush?” She looked at him incredulously, as if the very thought of having an inkling of romantic feelings for him was impossible. Astarion, of course, knew better. He could smell the blood that rushed through her when he flirted. “In your bloody dreams!”

It was just too easy to flirt. “Oh, you are always in my dreams, my love.”

"Your dreams; my nightmares," she retorted, her tone laced with a teasing edge. She moved closer to him too, unable to keep herself from his orbit.

He chuckled, rubbing his side where she had jabbed him with the staff. "Ah, you wound me, my dearest Tav. I thought you'd at least consider joining me in the realm of dreams."

Tav rolled her eyes, but Astarion could see the little smile that threatened to tug at the corner of her lips. He had her right where he wanted as he shifted his weight, resting on his side as he peered up at her.

"Considering it and actually doing it are two very different things," she replied, her smirk growing more pronounced.

Astarion rested his head in his palm, looking up at her through his lashes. She swallowed hard, and he knew he had her.

“Admit it, Tav. There's a spark, a certain...fascination."

She raised an eyebrow, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Fascination with annoyance, perhaps."

He grinned, undeterred. "Or maybe with the enigmatic rogue sitting right next to you."

“You’re right, Astarion,” she sighed dramatically, putting her hand over her heart for a moment. He sat up properly now, close enough that his arm brushed hers.

Astarion narrowed his eyes slightly, cocking his head to the side as she got closer to him than ever before. Her hand reached up and touched his jaw lightly. For a moment, he was surprised by her response, by her sudden touch. It was soft against his cheek –not teasing, not caressing. Just impossibly soft hands on his skin, and Astarion had to keep himself from shivering.

“I am fascinated by you. Overwhelmingly, obsessively fascinated…,” Astarion, by instinct, leaned in closer –he could feel her breath on his lips, and for a moment he wondered how she would taste on his tongue. But then she gently smacked him on the cheek and pulled away, “by how self-indulgent you are.”

Astarion blinked in surprise, the gentle smack breaking the spell he was under. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind in those few seconds, trying to process that she had bested him in the art of flirting. And while he was certain she wasn’t doing it to trick him (Tav was far too nice for that, he had learned over the last few days), it was still a shock to his system.

This wouldn’t do; he was supposed to be manipulating her –not the other way around.

Tav smirked, savoring the moment of triumph she seemingly had over him. "You see, Astarion, fascination doesn't always lead to adoration. Sometimes, it just leads to more creative ways to put you in your place."

The vampire, still rubbing his cheek with a bemused expression, chuckled. "Well played, you cheeky little thing. I must say, you do have a talent for keeping me on my toes."

“If you two are done flirting,” Karlach cackled, throwing a piece of bread at Tav’s head. She grumbled a bit, looking over her shoulder at the tiefling while the blood rushed to her cheeks. Embarrassed that she had been caught flirting with him, no doubt. “I think it’s time for Fangs there to take watch so we can get some rest.”

Tav pulled away from Astarion entirely then, giving the tiefling her undivided attention with a friendly nod and a smile. He, however, was staring at Tav and the blush that had crept its way up her body. It made his jaw ache with need –not a lustful need, but a hunger-pained one that he knew he would need to deal with when everyone had gone to sleep.

Finally, he broke his gaze from her and stood, offering his hand to her like he had the other day. Tav took it with a smile, pulling herself up —though this time she pulled away sooner than before.

“Goodnight, Astarion,” she called over her shoulder, waving at him as she followed Karlach to her tent to change. “Wake me if you need a break!”

He wouldn’t be waking her though. Not tonight —not if he wanted to build his strength properly.

*****

Sleep had proven to be elusive, slipping through her grasp like sand through fingers, leaving her restless throughout the night. Since the crash landing, a peaceful night's sleep had become a rare commodity. It wasn't solely due to the unfamiliarity of sleeping on the ground or exposure to the elements; an underlying unease persisted. The constant presence of the worm writhing behind her eye seemed to amplify with each passing moment, as if determined to delve deeper into the recesses of her brain. The combination of the unusual environment, the uneasiness of her new companions, and the tadpole just made sleeping impossible, even with her eyes closed.

As the night wore on, the restlessness in her bones refused to abate. Unbeknownst to her, Astarion had been silently stalking in the periphery, drawn by the tantalizing scent of her blood. In her restlessness, a voice whispered in her ear –Open your eyes, my dear. Do not let him take without asking. Perhaps it was a bad dream making her feel anxious, and she forced her eyes open to avoid furthering any nightmares that wanted to creep their way into her mind.

Except the nightmare seemed to be real as her sleep deprived eyes focused on fangs, then ruby red eyes, then finally Asterion's horrified look of realization that he had been caught.

“What in the hells are you doing?” She practically screamed, scrambling out of her bedroll as Astarion pulled away with his hands up.

“Shush, please –I wasn’t going to hurt you, I swear –I just…I needed blood and I –,”

“Thought you could just have some of mine?” She finished for him, pushing herself off the ground.

For a moment, Astarion looked panicked; scared even. And while that tugged on her heartstrings a little bit, it wasn’t enough to wet the flames of anger that were swirling around inside her.

“I just needed a taste,” he explained, voice shaking some as he tried to defend himself.

“How long has it been since you killed someone? Days? Hours?”

“Please,” he begged, shaking his head now. “I feed on animals –bears, boar, kobolds. But I’m weak, and if we’re going to keep up the way we are…I need something more. Something stronger.”

Tav contemplated Astarion’s desperate plea, her heart torn between concern and the growing sense of connection with the vampire before her. A flicker of empathy softened her gaze as she sighed, finally giving into her desire to help over hindering him further.

“Fine,” she agreed, her voice gentle yet firm. She pointed at him, as if scolding him. “But only if you promise to ask next time. I want to help you, Astarion, but I can’t have you draining the life out of me. We’re a team in this mess, and I’d rather you take a little from me than risk going after something more dangerous.”

Astarion’s eyes widened in a mix of surprise and gratitude, his usually guarded demeanor momentarily giving way to a genuine expression of thanks. He nodded earnestly, the weight of her trust not lost on him.

“Thank you, Tav,” he replied, his voice touched with sincerity. “I promise, next time I’ll ask. No more midnight surprises.”

She nodded once, looking around for a moment to ensure their friends were still asleep. Then she motioned to her throat, baring it to him. “Okay…well, have at it, then.”

He chuckled darkly, unable to help himself, before reaching out to touch her waist gently. “Let’s make it a bit more comfortable for you, darling. Lay down.”

His touch against her waist only aided in the blood rushing to her cheeks, and she was suddenly very aware that he knew that. There was no way Astarion didn’t know how much he flustered her, or how easily he made her blush. And somehow that made her blush even harder.

But Tav simply nodded, ignoring the embarrassment as she laid back in her bedroll and closed her eyes. Her heart beat fast in her ears, pounding as she felt Astarion’s body hover over her’s —felt his mouth just barely touching her throat before finally piercing her with his bite. Her eyes squeezed shut, her hands shooting up to grip his biceps in surprise.

The pain, however, was short lived and was soon replaced by a strangely warm feeling that pooled in her belly as she became lost of the feel of his mouth on her throat. There was no helping the sound that escaped her lips —a soft moan that caused Astarion to tense up momentarily as he drained her of her blood.

Her fingers loosened on his biceps as he continued to drink, and while the pain was turning into something far more, she did her best to push him off of her.

“Astarion,” she murmured, voice cracking as he pulled away sharply.

For a moment, he hovered over her as if trying to catch his breath; to return to his senses. Her neck throbbed where he bit, and though her vision was a bit hazy, she saw a drop of blood slip down the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, she lifted a heavy hand to his lips and wiped the blood away with her thumb.

“I hope I taste good,” she sighed, admiring the fresh crimson on her finger tip. Her body felt heavy, and she was sure sleep was going to overcome her at any moment.

Astarion lifted her thumb to his mouth, tempted to bite once more but instead kissing the blood off her finger. “You have…no idea.”

Finally, he pulled away from her and stood slowly, taking a deep breath. Tav sat up weakly, closing her eyes for a moment to stop her head from spinning.

“Get some rest,” he ordered, turning away from her. “I need to find something a little more filling.”

He stepped away, but stopped, glancing over his shoulder. “This was a gift, you know,” he reassured, voice soft and sincere. “I won’t forget it.”

Tav was inclined to believe that.

[topsheepstudent]

A Real Nightmare | a.a. | 1

Astarion x fem!Tav

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Cussing. Astarion being…Astarion

Author’s Note: I’m not even sorry.

Talk to Me! | Series Masterlist

Astarion, visibly frustrated, threw his jacket to the ground with irritation, aggressively stomping out the flames that had crawled up its arm. A string of colorful curses escaped his lips as he forcefully dug his heel into the dirt, determined to extinguish every ember. Witnessing the dramatic display, Tav instinctively covered her face with her hands, feeling her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and panic. The crackling sounds of the dying flames, accompanied by Astarion's expressive language, created a chaotic scene that lingered in the air, leaving an awkward tension between the two.

The majority of the party had headed into the nearest town to snag supplies or dig deeper into their quest details, leaving Tav and Astarion to handle the camp setup—just the two of them. Despite their limited interactions in the few days they'd known each other, usually confined to brief and somewhat meaningless small talk, today marked a shift. It was the day they finally got down to setting up a proper camp, making it the longest stretch of time she'd spent alone with him.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world; it’s not as if she hated him or anything…she just didn’t like his snide comments on everything. Or the way he looked at her like she was something to eat and not a person. Or the burning feeling in her belly when he flirted. But when he didn’t have an audience, he wasn’t nearly as bad. Truthfully, he was almost tolerable. 

Astarion had thrown a fit, complaining about having "worked so hard" to gather what he considered "so much firewood" (although three logs hardly qualified, she didn't bother arguing), only to come back and discover they had no means to light it. In a moment of misguided goodwill, Tav offered to take care of it. In hindsight, she should have known better than to make such an offer; her command over magic, especially when it came to fire, was far from stellar.

Which was how Astarion's jacket caught fire. And how her tent also caught fire. Though luckily, she hadn’t put all of her belongings inside yet.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, hastily reaching out to retrieve his coat as he stormed away from the smoldering fabric. Examining it, she assessed the damage, hoping against hope for a chance at recovery. The arm was unmistakably burned through, but with the right supplies, she believed she could mend it. Her voice carried a mix of guilt and fear as she spoke, "I really didn't mean to do that – truly, Astarion. I would never actually try to hurt you, not on –,"

“You can’t even cast a spell correctly!” He interrupted, turning around quickly to point at her. His eyes flashed –a mix of darkness, anger, and a touch of dangerous allure.

“Excuse me, I can cast a spell just fine,” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child. His jacket hung at her side as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I just don’t have a lot of control after I cast it.”

“How is that any better?”

“Because at least I can do something!”

“You lit me on fire!”

“It was an accident!”

“What kind of sorceress can’t control her own fucking magic?” He demanded.

“One that has never been taught!” She spat back at him, her guilt receding only to be replaced with anger. He was allowed to be mad at her for lighting him on fire –he wasn’t allowed to insult her in the process, however.

“What the bloody hell do you mean, ‘one that’s never been taught’?”

Tav hesitated, realizing that maybe she had divulged too much. Her reluctance to expose her...deficiencies in magic was almost nonexistent.

When she had become the de facto leader of the party, and they had gathered up Gale into their midst, he had pressed her about her skills and spells that came from her home in Otherus. She tried to play it off at first, explaining that magic in Faerun wasn’t all that different from magic in Otherus, but Gale had been persistent –even when she explained she’d rather not have an audience. He just asked for her to join him in private.

It was there that Gale learned that their leader was not nearly as capable as she had made herself out to be. While she was able to cast spells and use magic, she couldn’t exactly…control the outcome. 

Magic had long been outlawed in certain parts of Otherus –in the main cities and around the edge of the kingdom, specifically –and Tav was born to a sorceress mother and a soldier of the king, who loathed those with magic at their dispense. Her mother, Fera, had kept her abilities secret for years until after Tav had been born. However, fearing that her babe would start showing signs, Fera thought it time to reveal to her husband what they were.

Fera had thought he would understand. That he loved them enough to protect them.

Fera had been wrong.

The King’s Guard had been called to the home, and by the time they arrived –Fera was slain, and Tav’s father was attempting to remove her hands from her body.

“A sorceress without hands is no sorceress at all,” he had seethed, pressing the blade into her wrist, breaking the skin and almost hitting the bone. 

The Guard stopped him before he did further damage; demanded if she had shown any signs of magic prior. When they determined she hadn’t, the Guard charged him with the abuse of a child; but his sentence was lenient for ridding the world of one more magic user.

Tav was ten. 

For a short while, Tav lived with her grandmother in a small village outside the kingdom but she was old and frail, and had no desire to raise a child at her age. Isowen, her mother’s sister, took her instead to the edge of the kingdom, as far from the king’s guard of Otherus as possible. Isowen ran an apothecary and taught Tav in the healing arts but forbade her from talking of magic or the arcane. Too many soldiers came in and out of their little shop; it was never safe. 

This was how it went for years –until Tav was old enough to go out on her own, and make a life for herself.

Initially, she had every intention of departing from Otherus. The kingdom as a whole, in all honesty, didn't hold any allure for her, especially if she aspired to master the control of her magic. However, the lack of viable means to leave or reach any other destination left her with no choice. Consequently, she found herself navigating a transient existence, engaging in various odd jobs across villages she encountered along the way. To safeguard herself, she discreetly concealed her magical abilities, aware of the potential risks that came with revealing her unique skills in unfamiliar territories. 

It wasn’t until the damned tadpole in her eye that she was finally taken away from Otherus. And now she was the leader of a band of heroes, trying to save everyone…and she had no idea how to control herself.

Gale had been sweet enough to offer to teach her, and keep her secret. Even though he did sound a bit snobbish about the ordeal, his lessons were important to her and she enjoyed the time she spent with him. 

Astarion continued to stare her down, his gaze unwavering, expecting an explanation. She felt the weight of his scrutiny, her left hand instinctively curling around her right, fingers tracing the scar that served as a perpetual reminder of the painful history of her life in Otherus.

"Have you ever kept so much bottled up for so damn long that when it finally spills out, it's like a wildfire you can't control? But, you know, strangely satisfying? Like this unseen weight you didn't even realize you were hauling around just lifts off your shoulders?" she asked, settling onto the ground before the dormant fire pit. She absentmindedly wrung her wrist, caught in the residual tension of her confession.

Astarion remained standing, though when she looked up at him to ask him to join her, his eyes had left her face and were fixed on where she held her wrist.

“I can’t say I have.” 

His voice was soft –sincere, even –and Tav smiled wryly.

“I’m from Otherus,” she explained, and Astarion let out a little ah in response –a knowing sound. She let out a humorless laugh, holding her hand to him now. “I had just gotten enough coin to finally leave when the damn worm got me. And now…I’m here.”

There was a moment of hesitation on his end, but eventually Astarion kneeled beside her and took her hand, examining the scar that rested between where her hand and wrist met. “You’re saying, darling, that up until you became the leader of a bunch of weirdos –you had never used your magic?”

Tav nodded once, shivering involuntarily as Astarion ran his thumb over the scar. “Here and there; but never enough to be meaningful.”

“Sweet hells, we’re doomed.”

“Must you be so dramatic?” She asked, though instead of the annoyed tone she usually held, it was laced with a fear that she wished she didn’t have. “I…I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t know what happened; one moment, I was following Shadowheart’s lead then the next I was doling out orders.”

Astarion dropped from his kneeling position to sit beside her, one knee pulled up as the other was outstretched in front of him. He shifted and rested his weight on his hands. 

“You are rather bossy,” he pointed out, grinning at her teasingly, as if trying to ease the tension. “I suppose it only makes sense, minus the whole lack of skill bit.”

“You and Gale are the only two who know.”

Astarion practically giggled in delight. “Ah, so I have blackmail. I love it.”

She gave him a funny look, unable to help herself. “Astarion, you cannot blackmail me when I also know something about you.”

He scoffed. “Please. I’m an open book, darling.”

“You’re right; you are an open book. And the very first page says you’re a vampire.”

For a moment, she could tell he was debating if he would play off her accusations. She knew the look well; it was one she used herself when she wanted to avoid confrontation. But then he narrowed his eyes. 

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

She rolled her eyes, pointing at her throat. “You have bite marks on your neck, Astarion,” then she motioned towards her mouth. “You also have fangs. You never eat with us, or when I offer you food. When you drink wine, you look nearly offended by it —,”

“To be fair, it is shit wine.”

“Regardless —I know you think me an idiot, but what I may lack in spell casting, I make up for in intelligence. I’m rather observant when I want to be.”

At this, Astarion leaned in close to her, voice turning sultry. “Oh, so you observe me, my love?”

Tav swallowed hard, involuntarily leaning in as well without even realizing it. “Occasionally, yes. Probably as much as you observe me.”

Astarion's lips curled into a mischievous smirk, and as he subtly withdrew, Tav felt the heat rise in her cheeks. A mix of excitement and self-chastisement coursed through her, acknowledging the magnetic effect he seemed to have on her. As she opened her mouth to respond, the distant sound of Karlach's animated yell reached them, accompanied by the laughter of their returning companions. Both their attentions shifted towards the camp's edge, momentarily distracted from the tension that she was certain they both felt.

Astarion rose from his spot, extending his hand toward her. Tav met his gaze briefly before accepting his hand, allowing him to help her to her feet. Their hands remained connected for a moment longer than strictly necessary, a subtle tension hanging in the air, before Astarion finally withdrew and strolled away from her towards the group. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he was about to go embellish how badly she fucked up the fire. 

But instead of feeling annoyed, she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.

“I hope you feel that weight lift one day, Astarion,” she said, soft enough that only he could hear. 

He paused mid step, glancing over his shoulder at her. “One day, perhaps.”