#astraion x tav

[dervampireprince]

[dni minors, dni blogs that have no 18+ age listed in their bio] body worshipping astarion /// gender-neutral reader/tav

telling him that his pleasure gives you pleasure, that you enjoy making him feel good, that he doesn't ever have to do anything in return. and that's hard for him to believe, of course. but you can prove it.

you can have him laid back on the bed, stripped bare, as you kiss across his face, making him laugh if you kiss him on the tip of his nose,

"it is rather cute of you darling that you want to spoil me, but"

no buts. you tell him this is what he deserves. he deserves to be spoiled, to be held and treated as though he's something precious. because he is.

you're careful as you kiss down his neck, not knowing if the bite scar on his neck is too painful of a reminder, so you avoid it, sliding down his chest, thumbs pushing against his nipples, taking one in your mouth as he sighs, hardening against you,

"as nice as this is, there are rather more sensitive areas you could be attending too,"

you swat him gently on the thigh and tell him to be patient, though you know he isn't. that you're not trying to tease him, you're savouring him,

he'll get what he wants though, as you slink down and ask him to spread his legs, and when he slowly does you struggle to read his face, is he apprehensive? surely he can't be nervous...?

you kiss his inner thighs, daring to nibble, and when he gasps and moans you bite harder, leaving marks as you edge closer to his cock, already starting to leak, begging for attention, sliding you fingers down until they circle around the base, you look up at him as you take his cock into your mouth.

he's loud as you slide yourself up and down, he always is. he knows his voice is attractive, he knows it spurs you on, his noises, his praise,

"yes, darling, that's it, fuck, such a talented little mouth, so good for me,"

but this isn't about you, it's about him, and you want him rendered speechless, unable to use any honeyed words as he falls apart, and you'll be here holding onto him, making sure he doesn't fall too far, making sure he's put back together in the end.

he almost yelps, embarrassed at the undignified sound, as you slide your hands under his arse and pull him up, clawing at his skin, letting his cock hit the back of your throat, breathing through your nose as you gag, trying to look up at him, daring for him to see how much you'd do for him,

you pull your mouth off his cock to watch him squirm, his hips twitch, your blow cool air onto him and he whines, he whines and he seems embarrassed of it and he's beautiful,

you tell him that, and he knows, but there isn't the usual witty and vain retort, he whines again, panting, you tilt your head and smile and ask him if he wants to cum,

"of course i want to-"

he cuts himself of as you frown and start to pull your hands away. he knows what you want him to say.

"alright, i..." he catches his breath. "please."

please what?

he wants to scowl, but he wants your touch more, "please, i want to come, please."

he's back to moaning the second your mouth slides back down on his cock, whining again when you pull off, only to replace your mouth with your hand, sliding up and down his slick cock, as your mouth moves to his balls, fingers slipping against his arse, brushing between them accidentally, you think you aught to move them but the sound he makes, oh the sounds he makes,

barely thinking, just driven by the urge to have him come undone, you slip your hand under his leg and pull it up over your shoulder, gripping his thigh, mouth back on his cock as your other hand brushes against his hole again and you watch him shiver and claw at the bedding and you're emboldened and you rub your finger against his hole, never pressing inside, in time with how your head bobs up and down,

his words are gone now, he moans and gasps and you want him to let himself go, to thrust his hips up into your mouth, to relax into the bed, slide one of his hands onto your head if that's his urge, this is for him,

he tries to speak, "love, i-" and then he throws his head back, one of his hands flying to his face, you can't imagine him wanting to hide himself or his voice but then again has he ever let himself he this exposed before during sex?

you swallow around him as he comes, mouth still on him as he's oversensitive and twitching until you hear him sob,

and then you're letting his leg down gently off your shoulder, pulling yourself up to look at him, cupping his cheeks in your hands, him nodding to say he's alright, and then you're back to planting kisses over his face, telling him that he's safe, that he's beautiful, that you're honoured he trusts you with himself, stroking his hair as he comes down, falling onto your side and him clinging to you, his head against your chest as you kiss along his hair line,

"thank you," he breathes

of course

"you... well. i clearly underestimated you, again. i... i'm not sure i've ever come like that before. but before you sex was never much about my own pleasure. but that was... nice."

he coughs, composes himself,

"and well, if you ever wanted to do it again, or let me return the favour, though yes before you interrupt i understand you are trying to teach me that i don't have to repay you for anything with sex, but then i would also remind that i genuinely like having sex with you, having you at my mercy, moaning for me..."

you huff,

"yes. right. that is to say, i could be persuaded to let you have your wicked way with me again. it wasn't... unpleasant. i might have feared it could be, that being at someone else's mercy could bring about... memories or feelings. but it didn't. because it's with you. you make me feel... safe. i want to cherish that."

you kiss him again. and again. until you tell him you're not supposed to be waking yourselves up, and he pouts, but relents,

you'll clean yourselves up in a moment, for now, you enjoy him allowing himself to rest in your arms

#astarion x reader #astraion x tav #astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #y/n #reader insert #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #nonbinary reader #imagine #imagines #the vampire writes

[starkiller-anon]

Ash'kie (for short) ~ a high elf cleric of Selune who’s generally too good for his own safety. His weakness is mr toxic relationship Astarion before the fix, even though at first Gale had him for a long while. ❤️ I imagine him very calm and humble, not naive at all. He had a tough past he decided to use towards a life of light, especially for who need that light the most. Astarion's little sun(he will never admit it).

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astraion x tav #tav bg3 #My stuff

[in-the-heart-of-the-vampire]

I know I'm late to the party , but I thought I would start sharing my Tavs/Durges . I'll be sprinkling them here or there ( I have waaay to many)

So this is Nerola, my first play though. I went Dark Urge straight out of the gate ( I know who I am lol). She is a chaotic good, brass Dragonborn Sorcerer. She is so goddamn pretty. If she likes you within the first five minutes of meeting you she will Mom the shit out of you. "The hells do you mean you are here all by yourself? There are mind flayers around here! You are coming back to my camp, eating way too much food, and then tell Aunt Nerola what your problems are, and I will do my very best to help." Nerola reminds me of those wolves you hear about that will adopt orphan cubs or kids from prey species because the mom vibe is that strong.

She delved more into her powers secretly to try to fight the influence of her father, before the events of Baldur's gate. Everyone is shorter and more breakable than her so kind of sees most people like little siblings/ cousins/nephews/ nieces/ hatchets. Surprisingly she got with Astarion less than 10 hours into game play(to be fair she was still dark urge). I felt I rushed through this play through my first time around, but it was still special to me. I haven't gone back and seen the Withers party with her and Astarion , because I'm scared i'll abandon my current playthroughs just so I can relive this story. I know it won't be the same even if i get back into the character's headspace. I just wish i could rewatch it all again, like when you replay your favorite movie.

#my tav #Nerola #my durge #dark urge #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #durge x astraion #astarion x durge #bg3 #bg3 astarion #dark urge x astarion #astarion x dark urge #dragonborn #dragonborn!tav #dragonborn!durge

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.5 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all.

Author Notes: It's very short this time and it's fully in Astarions Version. No baby Spawn for today's chapter. I have other works as well. Please check them out. Thank you! Please like and reblog if you are enjoying the series, many are loving it! Thank you all so much!

 Astarion sat on the ground watching you sleep soundly. He turns back to the book he was reading, Dhampir. So far, he wasn’t liking it so far. The history was rather cruel to him. He looks up hearing footsteps, seeing Tav walking over. “Yes?” He asked, placing the book down on his lap. Tav smiles and sits down next to him, rubbing their hand over your cheek “What are finding so far about their kind?” They asked. Astarion sighs, “So many sad and sob stories “ He sighs “ Can you believe this little one is lucky to be alive? Many are killed the moment they are born or abandoned by their mortal parents.” He closes the book. “But…that's not the case with this little one, you said it wasn’t long when Cazador took them in, it goes to show they were loved by their mother. “Tav smiles, “ What a lucky little one.” 

Astarion nods, “ We're similar in a way…their kind get hunted like mine...and much more…I need to figure out who and what happened to their mother. At least to get a background knowledge of this little spawn. “ He looks at the stars, “There is no way I am letting Cazador get them back…I don’t know what he is planning…usually…Vampires kill the young of the unholy union because they are powerful but….Cazador…I fear he has terrible plans for them.” He looks at Tav, who stayed quiet and looks at your sleeping form. “If their mother is dead? What will happen to them?” Astarion looks off in the distance, “I…I don’t know find them a family…we won’t know till we get there…we are getting way ahead of ourselves.” He mutters, there was no way he was going to take you in. You are a mini version of Cazador but he has gotten attached to you slowly and he hates it. Tav gets up, “Maybe they just need you, but taking in a child is a lot of responsibility. “ They walk off to their tent leaving the vampire spawn alone. 

Morning came and Astarion was dramatically sighing each moment he could. “What now?” Wyll sighs looking at him. Tav just kept walking, “Ignore the spawn, he just wants attention.” This only made Astarion gasp, “How dare you, none of you are concerned for our little spawn caretaker? Gale? How can we trust the boot eater with a child?” He huffs. Tav sighs “Enough, Gale is a good babysitter, it was either him or Lae’zel.” They look at him before smelling something so rotten. The group follows their leader before meeting with a man. “What’s this?” Astarion hums before growing seeing the apparel. Tav looks at the man, making conversation before seeing Astarion hand to his dagger. They gently elbow him telling him to knock it off. “No worries my friend, there is no need to worry. I am just on a mission, rather 2 missions. Be on the lookout for a spawn.” He warns. Astarion looks at Tav, “Spawn?” He looks at the Gur. “Yes, I’m looking for Astarion, I was sent to capture him and send him back to Baldur’s Gate.” Tav looks back at Astarion, worried what the second mission could be. “And your second mission? If you don’t mind me asking?” Tav was now on alert. “Ah, my friends, I can’t tell you.” He looks at them. “Enough of this, we are just putting ourselves in danger” Astarion pulls out his dagger, aiming at the throat. “What is the other mission, speak now” He glares at the Gur. “Let’s not be too rash, Astraion.” Wyll looks at him. “He’s right fangs, easy” Karlach says. “No, it can’t be you Astarion, walking in the sun? I was just asked to find a missing child.” He says. Astarion glared even more. “Seems like Cazador is even sending out Gurs…you are not getting near them.” He kills off the Gur. Tav only watches before sighing “Was that necessary?” Astarion only shrugs walking off “I’ll send in the boot muncher to replace me.” He mutters, cleaning off his dagger. No one is going near his little spawn, not even Cazador. His fear for Cazador is slowly diminishing thanks to you.

#dadstarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fic #baldursgate3fic #dadstarion x child reader #fatherfigure #fatherfigure astarion #child reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 karlach #bg3wyll #bg3gale

[aerynwrites]

Love Lost

Halsin x Ascended Astarion

A/N: got this idea in my head and it wouldn’t leave me alone. Lots of angst very little comfort but a fun read if I do say so myself. Hope y’all enjoy. Summary: Halsin was unable to sway Astarion from ascending and now…Now he’s left to try and reconcile his love for the man he knew and the vampire lord before him now. Word Count: 2k Warnings: ascended Astarion, heart break, falling out of love, grief, hurt no comfort, angst.

In the few weeks that passed since the destruction of the Absolute, Halsin has felt an all too familiar dread and hopelessness settle into him. 

It started when he was unable to sway Astarion from his Ascension, his vampire lover craving the power that was denied him for so long. 

While he disapproved of the decisions at first, he had slowly come to a begrudging acceptance in the days that followed. 

Astraion seemed lighter, happier, finally and truly free. Halsin had been so blinded by the man’s happiness at the beginning that he ignored the flares of unease that simmered in his belly. 

Once the tadpole’s threat was removed, the other companions slowly drifted away. Shadowheart to live with her parents, Karlach and Wyll returning to the Hells…Even Tav eventually left their sides, returning to Waterdeep with Gale. 

Which just left Astarion and Halsin, alone in the vast palace in Baldur’s Gate. 

Halsin felt stifled in the city, his magic dimmed so far from nature's embrace. He had tried to encourage Astarion to come out into nature with him, perhaps take time away from the city after their victory. But the man had brushed him off, claiming to have too much to do, too many things to get in order. 

That should have been one of many clues. That, along with the new pet names the vampire ascendant had bestowed upon him. 

At first, he’d liked the way Astarion had called him ‘little love’ - a name so unusual for a man his size that he couldn’t help but smile and lean into the palm rested against his cheek. 

But then, in the throes of pleasure, he had called Halsin his consort. The term had snapped him from his bliss so sharply it felt like electricity in his veins. He’d wanted to question the man above him, but Astarion - if he’d even noticed Halsin pause - paid no mind. 

He hated ‘pet’ the most. 

It made him feel like this…thing. An object, rather than something to be cherished. A beast meant to be ordered around. 

He hasn’t lain with Astarion since. Not that the other man has sought him out, once again too busy. 

Throwing elaborate parties, wooing potential patrons and political allies, all as Halsin stood lonesome on the outside of the masses. 

At first he’d somewhat relished in the large gatherings, enjoyed watching others enjoy themselves. 

It had only changed when a particularly beautiful gentleman had come up and asked if Astarion would let Halsin off his leash. As if he were a dog with an owner, instead of a man with his own desires. 

Now he doesn’t go to the parties anymore, either. 

His life has become one of solitude in the palace. Surrounded by stone and iron and the stench of the city. Not even having his lover’s attention at the rare dinners they share, the lord too distracted by paperwork in front of him. 

Truly…the only time Halsin has Astarion’s full attention is when the vampire requires something. Whether that be to feed or to fulfill other carnal desires. 

But even that is a void. That mask is a permanent feature on Astarion’s person even as they take pleasure in one another. 

His entire being aches. 

It aches with a grief he didn’t even know he could feel. A hurt and sadness so deep for someone that isn’t even gone. At least, not physically. 

It’s as he lays in bed this night that he finally identifies the source of his heavy heart. 

He is grieving. 

He’s grieving the loss of his lover, the real Astarion. The Astarion that was lost to that profane ritual all those weeks ago. 

He’s grieving love lost. 

The creaking of old hinges pulls him from his thoughts, his dark vision allowing him to see near perfectly in the pitch-black room. 

The door to his and Astarion’s chambers cracks open, dim candlelight from the hall spilling in and illuminating the room in a thin sliver of light as a familiar body slips in. 

Astarion hardly ever comes to their chambers, either sleeping in his office or only coming to fulfill his needs. 

Halsin feels a pang of shame as he almost welcomes the latter thought. At least then he can pretend that things are as they were. 

If only for a moment. 

The door closes and the soft sound of matches striking meets his ears as gentle light fills the room. 

Astarion lights just a few candles before waving the match to put it out, before he strides over to the bed. 

Halsin reaches for him, hands settling on his waist as the vampire gracefully straddles his hips. 

“I did not expect you to come to me tonight, my heart,” Halsin says, his words lacking their usual warmth. 

He tries, Silvanus does he try to muster the warmth and care he once felt for the man above him. But it’s a weak flickering flame in his heart, struggling to stay aflame amidst the black cloud clogging his chest. 

Astarion smiles, and Halsin is silently thankful for the lack of light, so he doesn’t have to see the lack of sincerity in the action. 

“Of course I’d come to you,” he purrs, hands already tugging at the ties of Halsin’s top.

Astarion's lips are on his before he can utter a reply, dominating him with this one simple action. 

Cool lips are firm against his own, his tongue surging forward in search of Halsin’s. 

This used to be a dance between them. Giving and taking in equal measure as they both sought pleasure in each other's bodies. Now…

Now it’s a battle for domination. There’s only ever one winner, and it’s never been Halsin. 

Astarion has never hurt him, to his credit, and Halsin believes Astarion still cares for him in his own twisted way. In the physical sense, he’s never left wanting after their nights together but…

His heart aches for more. 

It aches for the gentle laughter he used to pull out of Astarion. The soft look in his eyes or the warmth that filled his chest when they were together. 

Now it’s just..empty. 

Every action feels transactional, void of any love or warmth. Even now, as Astarion’s hands roam over his body, Halsin feels…wrong. 

Astarion breaks the kiss only to trail lips down the druid’s neck, teeth scraping teasingly before he moves lower, lips brushing his collar bone. 

“I couldn’t leave my little pet, alone and wanting…”

Halsin freezes beneath him, that tiny flame in his chest snuffing out with that one gods damned word. 

“Stop.” The word comes out much quieter than Halsin intended, and Astarion lets out a breath of laughter. 

“And why would I do that?” he asks, trailing back to place sharp fangs against Halsin’s neck. “I’ve barely even had a taste…”

“Astarion, stop!” 

His words come out loud and more forceful than he’s ever spoken to the man above him, and before the vampire can blink, Halsin is ripping himself from his grip, all but shoving the other man away as he sits up on the edge of the bed.

Halsin is angry, hurt and more than anything else…he’s sad. He can feel it aching so deeply in his chest it threatens to choke him. It’s a feeling that was planted soon after the Ascension and no matter how hard he tried to rip it out, it continued to grow. 

It festered like weeds in his heart, in his very veins, threatening to pull him under anytime he gazed at his lover. 

But now…they’ve finally taken over. He can no longer ignore the feelings burning within him, choking him, and finally breaking the heart he thought could withstand anything. 

It apparently can’t stand this. 

Astarion scoffs, a bitter empty sound that makes Halsin's heart crack even further. “What in the hells has gotten into you, pet?”

Halsin snaps, fists clenching at his side. “Do not call me such a thing,” he spits, his sadness manifesting in an anger so deep, it runs black. 

A cruel laugh leaves Astarion’s lips, one that reminds Halsin of the mask Astarion wore so often when they first met. 

“Oh, but that’s what you are,” the man purrs, coming up behind Halsin on the bed, hands sliding up his shoulders. “My, little pet that I do so adore-“ 

In a flash, Halsin is on his feet, hand gripping Astarion’s wrist in a grip so tight it would do far more damage to a mortal being. But the vampire doesn’t look phased in the slightest, mouth tilted downwards in displeasure and eyes sparking with something akin to bemused anger. 

“I am not an object to be controlled,” Halsin says firmly, dropping Astarion’s hand as despair replaces any anger he previously felt. “The Astarion I came to know would know that.” 

Astarion stands, lips tilting up once more in that smile Halsin has come to hate. He used to love when Astarion would smile, eyes sparkling with mischief or joy. He had worked so hard with his lover to help him lose that mask and now…The mask is a permanent fixture. His smile never reaches his eyes, and if it does, it’s always with a tinge of mocking cruelty. 

“The Astarion you knew was weak,” the vampire says, “now I’m so much more. I’m better than I ever was as Cazador’s spawn.” 

Astarion spits the last word with such venom it almost takes Halsin back. He’s so caught off guard that he doesn’t stop Astarion when he reaches up to touch him again, his fingers sliding beneath Halsin’s chin as red eyes appraise him. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t see that,” Astarion murmurs quietly, disappointment tinging his tone. 

Disappointment. As if Astarion was speaking to an ignorant child instead of his lover, his partner, the man who is supposed to be his equal. 

But Halsin knows…deep down he knows that Astarion will never see him that way again. To him, Halsin should be blessed to be his…consort as he called it. 

The Astarion he knew is gone. For good. And it’s a sliver of knowledge that stabs piercingly each time he realizes it. 

Halsin reaches up with the last tinge of tenderness he can offer his former love, his hand wrapping around Astarion’s gently as he pulls his face away from cool fingers. 

“I refuse to see the illusion you’ve created for yourself,” Halsin says softly, stepping away from the man in front of him. “I only see the very thing you tried to destroy.” 

At the brief mention of his old master, Astarion’s eyes flash with pure unadulterated hatred. He’s on Halsin in a flash, hand gripping his jaw as fingers dig harshly into his cheeks. His breath is warm as it brushes over Halsin’s lips, his words a hiss in the otherwise silent room. 

“Don’t you ever compare me to him.” 

With a harsh shove and twist of his arm, Halsin breaks Astarion’s hold over him, silently relishing in the ache left on his skin. 

At least he feels something other than that bone-deep sadness. 

“I’m leaving,” Halsin finally says, turning his eyes away from his lost partner. “I can’t bear to stay here any longer. My…My heart calls me elsewhere.”

Anywhere but here, shattering at his feet. 

Astarion smiles that mocking smile, straightening his shoulders and looks down at the druid, haughty arrogance replacing any other emotion. 

“You won’t really leave me,” he says presumptuously. “I own you. You’re mine - ‘just as nature intended’ - remember?” 

Halsin can’t help but flinch as his own words are thrown back in his face, but he stands his ground. 

“I am no one’s but my own,” he says, voice resigned. “Perhaps, at one time, I was yours and you were mine but…” He trails off. “The person my heart stirred for died in that ritual.” 

He turns towards the door then, silently bracing himself for another harsh hand on his skin, but he feels nothing. He only hears the sharp intake of breath as he opens the door. 

“Fine!” Astarion calls out, voice filled with venomous anger. “Leave. But don’t expect me to be waiting with open arms when you come crawling back to where you belong.” 

Halsin takes a stuttered breath, that familiar black grief shrouding his heart. 

“I won’t.” 

And then he’s gone, leaving his love and his heart in shattered pieces behind him. 

#halsin x astarion #astarion x halsin #halstarion #halsin #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

[tealfling]

Tiefling Spice.

A/N: I’m new to writing fanfiction, and honestly, don't know how any of this works, but I just had to because of Astarion. I think I thought of all the labels.

Summary: Amaranth muses over the taste of blood with her favorite traveling companion, Astarion.

Pairing: Astarion x F!Tav

Tags: tiefling tav, named tav, flirting, banter, somewhere between Act 1/ beginning Act 2, some innuendo

Tav: Amaranth, purple tiefling Cleric

"Hot Cinnamon."

"What?" Astarion turned to Amaranth confused. The purple tiefling had taken to reading beside him in his tent lately, but her book--some spell tome-- had laid ignored in her lap for the past serval minutes. Her white gaze fixated on nothing in the distance as a finger wrapped and looped a long curl of her silver hair. He'd noticed she usually did this when she thought, but he couldn't figure out where her mind had been to say such a thing.

Amaranth faced him with a deadpan expression, "Karlach. I bet her blood tastes like a hot cinnamon kind of spiced drink."

Astarion chuckled in the soft way he did when he was caught off guard, snapping his book shut, then setting it to the side. That conversation had been so long ago, that he was surprised she remembered. "Interesting," he drawled considerately. "She does seem like a sweet spiced burn, doesn't she?" He remarked, regaining his flirtatious air. "But Darling, I'm hurt, here you sit in my company while your mind wanders to another?" he said with mocked melancholy.

Amaranth replied, "Well, I was watching you drink, then I thought about blood, and then I remembered when you asked me what I thought the others might taste like." Astarion watched Amaranth chatter away. Silver freckles danced like starlight across purple cheeks as she hurriedly walked him down her train of thought. "...and then the campfire reminded me of toasted marshmallows, which is how Karlach kinda smells, and then I remembered you asking what the other's blood might taste like...."

The pale elf hummed, mostly watching Amaranth's expressions animate across her face as she spoke rather than listening to her words. His ruby gaze occasionally returned to her plum fingers twisting and raveling that one pearly curl section.

"HEY. Star?"

"Hmm? Yes?" Astraion responded, startled back to the moment by an intense tone and a new name she never called him before. He realized the weight of the silence settling between them. There was a question he hadn't answered and a concerned expression slowly knitting across the face before him.

"Are you okay? You didn't answer my question and I thought I lost you there for a second." Amaranth said gently while trying to hold a playful air. Her eyes were soft, but keenly watching his face for tells.

Deciding he needed to redirect this change in mood, Astarion brushed his long fingers through his bangs, setting a coy smile on his face. "Apologies, Darling, it seems I became distracted admiring those adorable freckles of yours," he thrummed, hoping to fluster his company.

Not today.

Amaranth placed both hands between them, exposed arm muscles flexing to support her as she leaned into his space, face only a few inches lower from his as he retreated a bit from the unexpected invasion. She paused, taking in his wide-eyed expression, unsure. Mirroring his earlier tone, she repeated, " I said. You still haven't told me how I tasted." Her faux sultry look surveyed his face, constantly assessing him, ready to pull back. His pupils dilated, but not much else changed. It only took a moment for his face to settle, ready to unleash a counterattack. She held up a finger, " Ah, and before you throw 'delicious' at me again, it makes for a cute compliment, but rather too vague for a proper description," she said, sitting back on her tucked legs, giving Astarion breathing room. "We both know you can do better than that," she teased. Her tail tip swayed playfully, as she crossed her arms, awaiting his response.

Being on the back foot was Aatarion's least favorite place to be, but lately, Amaranth seemed to be getting the better of him in their little game. Although vexing at times, perhaps it meant his plan was working, that she was falling for him. While it made the game more challenging, her riposte was also, admittedly, more fun. Her initial intrusion toward his person overwhelmed him, an uneasy spark flitting in his stomach. But she just, hovered there, allowing him to adjust. Her tiefling heat permeated the span between them. As she went on, talking about blood, wondering about her flavor, all the while the very thing loudly and visibly pulsed in the neck inches from his face, the scent so strong he could taste it. It irked him that he had to restrain himself from inhaling it deeply. He didn't wish for her to take the impression he might be wanting.

No, Astarion needed to restrategize. Turn this back on her. He sat up, readjusted his shirt, then rested his arm on his bent knee. "Oh, come now my Dear? Where's the fun in that?" he goaded with a flip of the wrist. "You need to guess."

"You're not going to tell me?" the tiefling asked, taken aback. Her pearl-colored brows furrowed.

The pale elf inhaled through his teeth to drawl, "It's hardly a challenge if I tell you now, isn't it Darling?"

"Seriously? How am I supposed to guess? The few times I've tasted my blood, it was either flavorless or reminded me of copper!" she huffed.

"Well," he paused considering, "maybe I'll tell you... If you beg," he ribbed with a small chuckle. Astarion watched as Amaranth bristled. He liked getting a rise out of her. For a moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of her tell when a salacious thought crossed her mind, but, alas, her pewter brow furrowed deeper instead. Amaranth pouted, sucking in the corner of her lip. He'd seen her do this in frustration before, a glimpse of the tiny ivory tip of her tiefling fang baring down on her bottom lip in annoyance. Astarion hated it when she bit her lip this way, the last few times she'd done it, he felt like he might want to bite it too.

For a bit, the only sound between them was the soft, irritated thump of Amaranth's tail on the floor. Her diamond eyes locked in a scowl toward his crimson ones. How hard was it for him to give a little? The question shouldn't be that hard. None of the others at camp were willing to give him their blood, but he'd had intelligent blood in battle before. So between those and their...schedule...by now he surely should have had a working flavor profile of comparison. He was just toying with her. Being told her blood smelled good was--novel, but no one had said why. And Amaranth had to know.

"Fine," she sighed, adopting a look of indifference.

Astarion lifted a single white brow but said nothing. Waiting. He watched as she lifted her long hair back in a stretch, noting the strategic reveal of his favorite part of her neck. The tiefling stood pretending to dust off her thick thighs.

Amaranth continued with a feigned defeated huff, " I guess I'll just go ask my other favorite monstrosity what I taste like. He also thinks I smell delicious and he has been begging for a bite." The tiefling dramatically spun on her heel to face the exit.

"What!? Who?!" Astarion jolted up in a panic.

The purple tiefling whipped around with a giggle, "The owlber cub. You silly goose." Her gentle gaze met his unsure round eyes as he cautiously approached. Damn. That look made her weak. Though, it was quickly countered by his repulsed shrill.

"THE OWLBEAR CUB?" Astarion exclaimed. "That filthy thing?"

Amaranth clicked her tongue, "Oh, now, don't be like that. I know you secretly like him."

"I do not." Astartion puffed, sticking up his nose, and crossing his arms.

"Did you forget, Star, that one of my many talents is Beast Speech?" Amaranth hummed. His ears perked, glancing at her when he heard what he supposed was a new pet name of hers. "I know you let him cuddle you while you read. Don't worry, he likes you, too." The elf rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue. A little too dramatic to be real.

"Anyway," she continued slowly, rocking on her feet, " I guess if you have nothing more to say, then I'll see you for supper." Amaranth conspicuously added, "Unless, I'm utterly devoured first. I don't know if the owlbear cub has ever eaten tiefling before."

"You'd better well not be!" snapped Astarion, playfully. "You know I don't like sharing," he quipped.

Amaranth felt her cheeks pull into an easy smile. This was her favorite type of banter. "I'll see what I can do. There's a chance I'm quite tasty." She smirked, stepping closer to Astarion. "Perhaps I'll offer him a toe? As a treat?" Amaranth made a sweeping gesture to feet. "Definitely, not the tail. I'd miss it too much." She whipped it for emphasis. Astarion chuckled taking a step closer. Amaranth made a low thoughtful hum. "What else?" She pondered, making exaggerated finger taps to her pouty bottom lip. "Ah! What's your least favorite finger?" Amaranth cheerfully beamed, wiggling her fingers beside her face.

Resting his hand on his chin, Astarion looked quite statuesque. He regarded each amethyst palm with careful consideration, before snatching her right wrist in a firm grasp, eliciting a surprised eep from her lips.

Amaranth froze.

Her eyes immediately locked on his face. Trying to read him. When did he get so close? She took careful, calculated breaths. Unsure of what he would do, she waited to see how to react.

Astarion brought her hand closer to his face. With a cool, nonchalant expression, he studied the hand more closely under a discerning red gaze. Using his free hand, he judiciously traced each of her fingers with his, leaving a trail of tingles in his wake. His eyes were observantly fixed on his task. Her eyes were glued to his every movement. He used his own fingers to splay hers more open.

Had his hands always been so much bigger?

Separating her index finger from the rest, "Not this one, Darling," he said in a luscious purr, "It's my favorite." Finally, he met her stare with a sinful gaze as he kissed the very part of her finger that touched her own lips not a short time ago.

Shit.

Amaranth tried to control the exhale that escaped her, but she could feel her nostrils flare. It was obvious between them that she had been holding her breath. She hadn't expected this. He grinned fiendishly as he worked toward the next finger.

"Actually, my Dear, I don't want to part with any of your delectable digits," he droned, brushing his lips across all her fingers. He turned her wrist up, pressing a kiss down on her pulse.

Using the new angle, Amaranth took the chance to caress his cheek with the tips of her fingers that could reach. He flinched, and she retracted her fingers.

"I didn't know you were so jealous of a baby owlbear," she mused softly.

He scoffed, "I'm not," releasing her wrist, but leaned his cheek into her hand. "You're just too important to lose your delightful hands. Could you imagine if we had to rely on only Shadowheart and -ugh- Gale for spells and healing?" He smirked, but his words sounded more sincere than he intended.

"What about Wyll?"

"Ah ha! Wyll doesn't count," he said smugly, causing the tiefling to roll her eyes.

Amaranth gingerly trailed her finger over his cheekbone, barely touching his skin. She used it to move her favorite white curl behind his ear. Enjoying the way the pointed tip flushed. For a second, she caught a glimpse of those sad, round eyes he liked to hide, the ones that made her knees weak.

"Well," she sighed, lowering her hand, "I guess I'd better go help with dinner so that everyone that actually needs food gets fed. It's not fair to make them suffer through so much of Gale's cooking when I'm right here." She joked.

Astarion shifted uneasily, running his fingers through his hair. This was something new he occasionally did, like he wanted to say something, but held back. With Astarion and Shadowheart, she knew better than to press. They needed room to open.

"And what about you?" She inquired pleasantly, "Will you be dining out or ordering room service?"

He paused as if weighing his options before replying, "That depends on what's on the menu tonight?" His rakish grin appeared on his face.

Amaranth lamented in jest, "Unfortunately, only the same old thing that's on the menu every night. However," she perked, struck with an idea, "If you want, I could try to see how many spices I can add to change the flavor?"

"Oh, please, Darling, you're salty enough already." Astarion poked, waving her off with a hand before resting it on his hip.

The tiefling gaped, pushing his shoulder back, "Fine! Garlic breath it is, saer!!" she hissed flippantly. Revolving on the balls of her feet and stomping toward the threshold.

"Wait!" Amaranth hadn't reached the drapes before Astarion's long fingers grazed her arm, stopping her in her tracks faster than a Hold spell. "I was just teasing." He purred.

That was obvious. She replied flatly, "I know," still facing the entrance, trying to hide how happy she was that he stopped her.

"So, you'll come back later?" he asked from behind. It sounded like he was trying to be indifferent.

"Maybe. I don't know. I have other monstrosities I have to feed, you know." she tossed over her shoulder, acting aloof.

She felt Astarion close in behind her. He pulled back her hair, whispering into her ear, "But, you said I'm your favorite, right my Sweet?" Feeling his long fingers caress through the hair at the base of her neck caused her core muscles to flex. Electric tingles danced down her spine. SHIT.

"Yeah," she breathed, "you're my favorite." Amaranth turned her chin up toward his words. Noticing how very close their mouths were. And how very little it would take to close the gap. She could feel the warmth crawling across her cheeks. This fucking cheat was getting the better of her. Amaranth could feel her mind already lulling, she had to do something.

If she let him win now, she'd be here all night, the others would surely come looking for her. And the ones that would come were the ones that would react the worst to finding him fangs deep in her throat...If that's how they found them...

They still had chores to do before nightfall. Before the others stopped checking in with her.

The right thing to do would be to take a pause. She needed to tap out. Before she could lose her will, the purple tiefling popped up on her toes, landing a quick peck on his lips.

"I'm still eating garlic," Amaranth piped, darting out of Astarion's tent.

#astarion #astarion romance #tav x astarion #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion brainrot #astarion fic #astarion headcanons #astarion my beloved #astarion x female tav #astarion x oc #tiefling tav #my tav #tav oc #write your tav #bg3 fanfiction

[egooppidum]

So Astraion x Tav/Durge coded

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #Spotify

[starkiller-anon]

Fav Tav; Ash'kie (they/them) / dark urge sorcerer / half high elf / guild artisan. "pastel adorable/handsome looking beast trying to fight the urges". / Astarion's little monster (good route)

#astarion #astraion x tav #bg3edit #baldur's gate 3

[starkiller-anon]

I'll try something silly/cute. Since I'm playing on the Nvidia cloud gaming because my pc isn't able to handle BG3, I can't use mods of any kind. So, I saw SO MANY beautiful OCs/Tav, modded or not, reblog with your character and their background + class etc! Did you choose for your character a romance or not? I'm super curious this is my first glance to dnd ♥️ I'll start with my favorite(made so many...)

my OC's story under the keep-reading contains SPOILERS from Astarion's story and non-detailed cws such as: slavery, abuses, mental/personality disorders, amnesia, temporary death. And lots of grammar mistakes because I perish bloodless like every Astarion stan out there.

non spoiler summary: Kirei, trans man, half wood elf, half vampire spawn (around 130+ yrs old)- class: fighter. Due to his nature one eye is red, the other of its original color; light purple. He gets his tattoo right after getting out of the ship alive (he's a funny one in his own calm way). He's friendly but distant and prefers solitude, quiet places, over the chaos surrounding him. While he seems perfectly stable and chaotic good, he's actually batshit insane thanks to a certain someone! Twagic stowy under pics.

Kirei is a spawn who survived the ritual years before the game's adventures. Trans man, asexual, fighter - he's the son of a famous cleric who, at the time, was blessed directly by Selûne. He later had a child he didn't want, and left Kirei in an orphanage where he grew up until he was an adult, never adopted. Despite his clear phobia towards people and trusting - or talking - to them, alongside the crippling pain of dealing with the sensation of a body that felt wrong to him, Kirei was kind hearted. He later started working in a shop in Baldur's Gate, where the tailors were two kind nobles who dedicate their time into fashion. Kirei was an excellent tailor despite his body size; he was always praised for how delicate his hands could work on the finest fabrics. He never developed any real friendly relationships aside from the couple, until a lovely lady arrived one night at the shop before closure.

She was specifically looking for him, bombing him with lovely compliments as she opened herself up on admitting she always desired Kirei from afar. Taken by a strange urge to follow the woman's charm, and naive enough to trust her words, Kirei is lured into Cazador's mansion and tortured, then transformed into a spawn. His blood, though, is somewhat holy - Selûne's divine blessing - and blocked his transformation halfway. His heart was slow but was still beating, only one eye out of his light purple ones became red, his skin was no longer warm but not cold either - even his hunger is easier to control. After atrocious abuses Kirei gets marked, but his body does not fully transform still. Perfectionist as he is, Cazador orders to toss Kirei's starving body down the sewers from the depths of his private chambers. The fall broke his body entirely, but something kept the man alive. He remains paralyzed, feeding on what would crawl over his mouth until he could at least move his neck, for around 100 years.

The other spawns for the ritual were ready, as he was forgotten. Slowly, once Kirei could move at least his arms, he crawled and gnawed at every animal until he could get out from that fetid place. From there, everything in Baldur's Gate had changed, and his family - the tailors - were long gone without any relative left. In solitude, Kirei hides himself outside the city, away from humanity and monsters, as close as possible to the Underdark. He settles in an abandoned small house for around 6 years, stealthing his way to Baldur's Gate for supplies from time to time, knowing how to avoid danger. He knew Cazador felt him, but was paying him no mind. And it was a blessing for the man. His abduction by the mindflayers happened precisely during one of his rare visits in the city. When he awoke in the pod, the tragedy of his past hit him like a truck; again stuck, no way out, subjected to some alien experiment, etc. The fear locks his mind into a complete amnesia of what happened to him, a lock so strong that even Astarion, after knowing the truth of Cazador's doing and recognizing the markings on Kirei as identical as Sebastian's, is unable to open up.

Kirei acts as if he's external to the whole deal, and is obsessed on helping his lover against Cazador unable to even remember the monster's face, or the woman's one who lured him to his death. He ignores - or immediately forgets after hearing them - the cruel words of his master until the end. The only reaction taken out of him arrives during an exploration of the mansion's sewers; there Kirei suffers from a major manic attack, unable to stop laughing, crying and screaming to not let him crawl again until Gale puts him to sleep via magic. Once out, the man seems back to himself and yet again back to his state of ignorant bliss towards his past, deluding himself he had suffered through a fever after the difficult fight against Cazador. The group decides to never try to bring up the matter again, and Astarion - using the worm to search into that broken mind to acknowledge his suspicions - makes sure to take care of Kirei as much as Kirei takes care of him, for eternity.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astraion x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers #smol game: show me ur ocs!

[starkiller-anon]

#bg3edit #bg3 #astraion x tav #tav bg3 #ashkie #my stuff