#Wyll being the monster hunter who fell for a monster

[thatfreshi]

"He Can't Have You" (Astarion x Reader)

Seems as though Auntie Ethel doesn't go down without a fight, and that fight involves bringing out the worst in people's minds. (Also we get to see where the nickname Aster came from)

tw - mentions of abuse, panic attack

The Sunny Wetlands, later revealed to be a putrid swamp, have proven particularly difficult for Astarion. The last thing any of you expected was to find a Gur hunting him, especially this far from the city. It made your heart skip a beat, hearing the monster hunter utter his name, and you could feel the tension in the vampire. Thankfully, you did away with him quickly. By now, he's told you plenty about his past, at least as much as he could bear to tell. That haunting feeling though, knowing that Cazador was hunting him, it was paralyzing. As you searched for Mayrina, you and Astarion fell behind the rest of the group.

"Are you alright my love? I could tell them we should just set up camp for the night, rest up for dealing with the hag."

"Nonsense. What would I look like, asking everyone to stop for me? The Gur has been dealt with, let's just leave it at that darling."

"I cannot imagine dealing with the hag will be easy though."

"I'll simply run my blade through her like I do everything else. I'll be fine."

It hasn't been long enough with him to truly know if he's lying, but you certainly have a hunch. On the way back to the hag's house, Gale casts detect magic.

"She's definitely in here. We should be prepared."

Sure, she looked like a sad old woman, but those adventurers told you the truth, how she took their sister. When Karlach leads the charge, opening the door, she tries to look shocked.

"Oh dear! It's quite rude to storm into someone's house like that. Where are your manners?"

Without responding, Karlach throws her axe into the hag's shoulder, breaking the illusion, showing the monster for who she is. Covered in grime, like a witch born straight from the mud.

"It looks like I'll just have to teach you all how to be polite!"

Karlach tries to go for a second hit, but the hag teleports. Gale soon tracks her down, casting a ray of frost. Astarion follows her up the stairs while she tries to counterspell Gale. You and Lae'zel try to attack from a distance, missing because of just how quick she can move from place to place. Wyll has focused on assisting Gale, and Shadowheart is keeping track of all your party members, making sure to be there as soon as one of you takes a hit. In the meantime, she casts guidance on Astarion, who is fighting much more intensely than usual. Perhaps killing the Gur wasn't enough, and the anger was still boiling inside.

"Alright little mosquito, you want to be a thorn in my side? Poor decision."

The hag disappears from sight, and Astarion stops in his tracks. At first you think nothing of it. It almost looks like he's searching the room for where your enemy landed. For him though, the hag has cast a strong illusion, preying on his worst fear: being back in Cazador's grasp. The teahouse has transformed into the kennels, cold stone on bare feet, blood spattered across the walls.

Well, well, well. Seems as though the boy never learns! Perhaps, this time, will set you straight.

He hears the voice of Godey taunting him, threatening to pull him apart again.

"No! No, I left- I left, I was free!"

It's at this moment you realize he's not here, not in the mental sense.

"Focus on the hag, I'll try to snap him out of it."

You order the rest of the group, and they nod without a word, searching the teahouse for where she's gone now. You run up the stairs, finding a trembling pale man who has dropped his daggers.

Deep down, you like bein' leashed, don't ya?

The words bounce around in his head, a vision of Cazador appearing. You try to shake him, to mentally connect him back to his body, but it only plays into the illusion more, your actions becoming Cazador's.

"Astarion! Astarion it's just a spell, it's not real. It's not real my love, please."

Soon enough, your group finds the hag again, disrupting her concentration, releasing her grip on the elf. His breathing is terrifyingly fast, and he takes a moment to come out of the vision, grabbing a dagger from the floor and very quickly brandishing it towards you.

"DON'T."

You're trying desperately not to cry, because you know he doesn't need your shared sadness right now.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just me, Tav."

You lightly touch the hand holding the dagger, and he loosens his grip. Your hands move to take the blade from his grasp, setting his weapons to the side.

"I... I was there. I was back there."

"I know. Seems as though Ethel knows more than she should."

Astarion is still trying to root himself back in reality, you blood still racing in his dead veins.

"I can't go back Tav. Please, I can't go back."

"I know. I won't let you end up back there, ever."

He's still weary of physical touch, so you simply rub across his knuckles, trying to ground him in the moment. Your deepest urge is to wrap yourself around him and never let go, keep him in a protective case where no one can ever hurt him again, but that's not real. Being entirely safe isn't real. But damn, do you wish it was, for his sake.

As you're sitting there with him, the group makes their way back.

"We lost her. Have a feeling she went deeper into a cave somewhere."

You eye Karlach, and the two of you come to a silent understanding as you hold onto Astarion's shakey hands.

"We'll go set up camp where we entered the swamp. Take your time."

And with that, the tiefling takes the rest of your companions out of the teahouse, leaving the two of you alone.

"Why?"

You turn to look at him, cocking your head slightly.

"Why what?"

"Why would you say you won't let me end up there again? Cazador isn't some being you can simply keep me from, he's... different."

"I don't care."

"What do you mean you don't care?"

"I just, don't care. I don't care how powerful he is or whatever abilities he has, he can't have you. He just can't."

You finally do tear up now, not sure how else to explain it to the vampire.

"He most definitely cou-"

"No."

You try to blink the tears away, feeling the little callouses on his palm from over the decades.

"I want you to know what it's like to belong to someone in a pure way, not for personal gain, but just because they need you. And now that I have you... I just need you. I need you Astarion, so he can't have you. I'd die before he could take you from me."

He's silent for a moment. All forms of ownership he's known have been terrifying. Whatever could you mean by belonging to someone in a pure way? How can you belong to someone innocently? Your tadpole senses his concern, connecting without much effort at all.

"I don't need anything from you. I don't need you to do anything for me, I just need you Aster."

He smiles a little.

"Aster?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I had just been thinking about it. If you don't like it-"

"No I- I love it. Aster. Like the flower?"

"Yeah."

Somehow, the teahouse is peaceful in this moment. You feel young all over again, like you've never been in love before, like Astarion is the only being you've ever known. He interrupts your thoughts.

"Thank you, for saying all that. Maybe I wouldn't mind belonging to someone without expectations. It sounds, nice."

His voice cracks on the last word.

"Well, Aster, then you can belong to me as long as you'd like."

You swipe a piece of hair behind his ear, looking for a reason to get close to his face. As if the fates knew it to be true, you lock lips, despite the horrific smell outside and the creaking wood of the floorboards, you're somewhere else. Some place where the asters bloom in peace.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort #fluff #x reader

[ollifree]

Tav Backstory Asks feat. Vash

Is your Tav Baldurian? If yes, did they grow up in Baldur’s Gate? If no, where are they from? Yes, Vash grew up half a day’s walk from Baldur’s Gate.

Does your Tav have any siblings? Are they close? Vash has a brother, Emile. They were fast friends as children, and became lovers when they developed romantic and sexual feelings. Vash is adopted.

Who was your Tav raised by? His adoptive parents, Sofi and Otto. They ran a pharmacy for those who couldn’t afford the prices in or the journey to Baldur’s Gate.

Is your Tav close with whoever raised them? Vash was very close with both his parents. He often went to them for help with interpersonal problems since they literally taught him how people and society worked. Even as an adult, and no matter how many thousands of years pass, he still refers to them as Mama and Pops.

Is your Tav religious? Were they raised that way? He’s waiting for a god to stick out to him. Whenever the family went to Baldur’s Gate they’d stop by the tabernacle to pay respects to Sofi and Otto’s preferred gods, but at home the family was rather secular.

When did your Tav learn their abilities/skills? As a child into young adulthood. Before he was adopted Vash lived on his own, and the family lived in a forest. Vash became a ranger because his skillset led into it.

Did your Tav travel a lot pre-tadpole? Absolutely. Mostly within a few days of Baldur’s Gate, but he had many jobs that lasted for several months and those sometimes took him to other settlements. He never did sea travel.

Does your Tav have any pets? Technically yes. He has his spider summons, which toe the line of pet and companion. Especially since he can understand their speech. The family owned chickens, which he and Emile sold when they moved into the city.

What did they do for work/to get by? Hunting for animals and monsters. Occasionally guidework, but he preferred solitude or the company of other rangers.

Was your Tav in a relationship? How did it end? Vash fell out of romantic love with Emile sometime in their twenties. He stayed in the relationship out of comfort and convenience. It ended when Vash got abducted.

Did your Tav know or know of any of the other characters? He knew of Wyll as the Blade of Frontiers. None of the others.

Is your Tav a guild member? The Hunter’s Guild isn’t a proper guild in the way it’s run, but it’s how Vash took most of his jobs.

Was your Tav well known by others or did they stick to the shadows? He had his friends around the city and in the Hunter’s Guild, and he got on fairly well with some of his neighbors. He wasn’t a person most knew about until after the defeat of the Absolute.

Does your Tav have any childhood friends? Growing up one of the only two kids within a half day walk of the city kind of skewed that.

Do they have any sentimental items? He kept a few pieces of his parents’ jewelry. After the events of the game, if he came across another Soul Coin he’d keep it as a memento of Karlach. I can see him taking one or both fangs from his spider companion during that time too.

What’s your Tav’s favorite childhood memory? When his Pops came home with horn balm for the first time. It’s a fic slated to be written.

What’s your Tav’s worst childhood memory? The years he remembers before he was adopted. Always hungry and cold.

What did they want to be when they were younger? No job plans for the future in that head only short-term survival preparations.

Any memories that stick out to you/your Tav about their life pre-tadpole? A good amount of especially tricky hunts. Maybe one day he’ll share them with me.

Did they know any nobility? Not personally, no.

What kind of education did your Tav have? Somewhere between a modern-day middle and high school level. Literacy and basic math, the like. He has a lot of first-hand knowledge of anything related to surviving in the wilds, and his Mama taught him a fair amount of medicine. In a modern au I could see him being good at accounting.

Does your Tav have any children? lol no

Share any hcs/anything you want to say about your Tav’s backstory I wrote a fic about it! Go read it!

#bg3 #bg3 tav #vash #oc things

[timeforelfnonsense]

Just a Taste (Updated)

Dafni x Astarion 

Rating: M

Ao3

I’ve been reworking some of the first fics I wrote for these two now that I have a better idea of their relationship. I’ve updated them on Ao3 but there was some interest in me reposting them here as well!  

Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series  

Astarion passed along the far edge of the camp. A groan escaped his chest as he slumped down against the base of a tree. His whole body ached right to the bone. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the throbbing pain behind his eyes to disappear. He knew he needed to feed as soon as possible. He had waited far too long to make up for his little indiscretion with the boar earlier. The whispers of vampire among his traveling companions had, at last, died down. Unfortunately for him, his caution had left him weak and vulnerable. He clutched his head in his hands and took in a deep breath. His body tensed in an instant. The soft forest breeze carried the irresistible scent of prey. His mouth watered and the familiar, white-hot sting of thirst clawed at his throat.

He could see them all tucked into their bedrolls, spread across the little clearing. Sleeping. Helpless. His gut twisted with guilt at the thought but he was desperate and so very tired. Hunting would require far more energy than he had left and the food that slept peacefully around him was far more likely to quench the caustic burn he felt inside.

He would have to be mindful in the selection of his quarry. Lae’zel was the first to be struck from the list. She had a bitter, bordering on metallic scent that he found less than appetizing. And more importantly, he was certain she would slay him without a second thought should things go awry. Shadowhart was out next. Though her bouquet was much more appealing, she had a suspicious nature and seemed likely to be a light sleeper. Wyll had always seemed an alluring prospect - Strong, fast, and righteous. Despite the appeal, he would also be a dangerous choice, being a monster hunter by trade. Gale would due, he supposed, but as the wizard tossed in his sleep the delicate shimmer of a magical barrier caught his eye. That left him with one, final option.  

Dafni slept in a heap of pelts beneath the cover of an old oak tree a few paces away from the others. Wildflowers bloomed in the soil around her as if the earth was reacting to her very presence. His gluttonous gaze lingered on the pretty cleric. He watched her chest rise and fall slow and even. He’d never known her to indulge in sleep, preferring to take her rest by way of trance. She must have been truly exhausted. With a silent step forward, Astarion took in another deep breath. She was floral, like lilac and primrose with just a touch of citrus. His pupils dilated as every fiber of his being shouted at him - Desperate for just a taste. It was a risk to be sure, feeding on a woman of divine persuasion, but of the options available to him she seemed the most delectable and least deadly.

“How cliche,” He thought, “a creature of the night- Driven by sanguine desire to drink from the lovely maiden asleep in her bed of flowers.” He dipped to his knees and with a delicate hand brushed her hair from her neck. He steeled himself, preparing to strike. Leaning in close just as her eyes shot open. “...Shit”

It was the cool tickle of breath on the back of her neck and the feeling of a light hand on her waist that pulled her away from her dreams. When she first saw him standing over her, ruby-red eyes wide, white hair tousled and untamed, she had assumed something must have happened during his watch. However, the guilt and shame that twisted across his handsome face quickly did away with such assumptions.

“What are you doing!” She hissed.

“No, no- It’s not what it looks like I swear!” His words were rushed as if they could not leave his mouth fast enough.

Dafi sat up in her bedroll, her eyes fixed on Astarion’s pleading expression, his hands outstretched in surrender. He reminded her of a wild animal backed into a corner facing down what was to be their demise. His bravado was all but gone and in the place of the cocky rouge she had come to know was a frightened young man. His eyes fixed themselves on the holy symbol that hung from a silver chain around her neck. At that moment the pieces fell together: the boar, his unique appearance, his eagerness to keep watch at night.  There, in the dim glow of the fire, she saw him for what he was...

Vampire.

“Were you trying to kill me?”

“No! I wasn’t going to hurt you!” He promised, “I just needed - well…”

“You needed blood.” Dafni tried to keep her tone firm and fearless but her words shook none the less.

“It’s not what you think!” He pleaded, “I’m not some monster. I feed on animals! Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. Too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.”

The last word was dripping in melancholy. His head hung low and his shoulders sagged. He had proven himself to be proud, even bordering on snobbish - never asking for help and turning his nose up when it was offered. His suffering must be great if he had been willing to admit his weakness and need.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered. Against her better judgment, she reached out to him, placing a hand on his pale cheek.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely you’d ram a stake through my ribs. I thought I could keep it to myself but tonight I felt so awful…” Astarion slumped into his hands unable to meet her eyes, “And… I wanted you to trust me. No. I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

His logic was far more rational than her own. She was a cleric, sworn to the preservation of life. She should have set him alight with divine magic the moment she realized what he was. But, when she looked at Astarion it wasn’t a monster that looked back at her. She saw her friend. The man who called her Daffodil with testing endearment. Who always watched her back in a fight. Who’d come ever so close to kissing her not that long ago. Vampire, he might be but Astarion was no monster. Her heart ached to think of the fate he had been doomed to. He was an elf, never to return to Avandor. Was it not her very reason for existing to care for all of Corellon’s children? Why should Astarion, whom she had come to care for, be any different than the rest of their kin?

“I do.” She smiled, her thumb stroking his cheek, “I Trust you, Astarion. If you say it wasn’t your intention to harm me then that is the truth.”

How long has it been since he had felt a hand so gentle with such kind intention? She held his face so tenderly he thought he might melt. He had spurned her kindness on countless occasions. Thinking it had been a sign of weakness. Now, on the receiving end of her light and he felt a fool for having ever encouraged her to tamp down on her compassion. He leaned into her hand, savoring the warmth of her touch.

“Thank you.” He purred against her ear, “Do you think you could trust me just a little further? I only need a taste. I swear.”

He could hear the steady thump of her heart pick up. The sight of blood pumping through her veins was near irresistible. Her cheeks went flush and the intoxicating smell of her blood threatened to send him into a frenzy. It was no small effort to keep his vampiric instincts in check. He couldn’t remember wanting the blood of any creature half as badly as he found himself wanting her. But, no matter how badly he craved her he refused to betray the trust she’d given him- To prove himself the beast he swore not to be.

“Fine” She spoke in a little voice, “But not a drop more than you need.”

“Of course.” He promised, “Not one drop more.” Delicately, he guided her back so her head came to rest in his lap. He brought one hand to rest on the swell of her full hip and while the other cradled the base of her skull. His fingertips traced the hollow of her neck with almost loving reverence. “I will try to be as gentle as I can manage. It might hurt a bit- a sharp, cold feeling but the pain should fade fairly quickly if memory serves.”

She nodded her understanding, glancing up doe-eyed through her thick lashes. With that, he leaned in pressing a kiss over her pulse before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh. If her scent had been captivating her taste could only be described as transcendent, sweet, and perfect. Yet it was more than the flavor that had him completely delirious. It was the irresistible happiness that began to bloom in his chest as his heart fell in rhythm with her’s. She was a lush and colorful field, the feeling of the sun on his cheeks for the first time in 200 years - Spring incarnate and he was ravenous for more.

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.

Cazador’s words rang loudly in his ears as the red ambrosian liquid gushed into his mouth. All those years luring food for his old master and he’d been forbidden anything but putrid rats. He’d assumed it was meant to demoralize his spawn. To remind them where they stood in the pecking order. Now he saw the truth of it. With every swallow, he felt better than he could ever recall feeling.

His grasp grew tighter on her hip drawing her into himself no longer satisfied with gentleness and charm. What had happened to the restraint he’d shown just the other day when he’d nearly stopped himself from kissing at the river? Hunger began to blend with desire. He wanted her, in both blood and body. A shaky gasp slipped from her lovely lips. She twisted in his lap, lancing her hand through his hair, tugging him closer. An invitation to drink deeper and indulge the amorous feelings her resplendent curves and needy sounds were insisting.

“Astarion, I’m starting to feel faint.” Her voice was shaky but it was enough.

“Of course.” He gasped. He removed himself with haste, realizing his hold on her body. Relief washed over her and Dafni allowed herself to crumple against him. Above her, Astarion was still struggling to catch his breath. “I was just swept up in the moment. But it worked. I feel good. Strong. Happy!”

He nuzzled at her neck, his nose running along the soft edge of her jaw. A small squeak passed her lips at the feeling of his tongue running over the aching wound. Prompting a satisfied purr from Astarion. He was warmer to the touch now and a faint rosy hue colored his cheeks. His arm once again wrapped across her middle, pulling her into him as if he’d done it hundreds of times before. Astarion was hardly the picture tender regard but his arms were strong and his slow heartbeat thrummed in time with her own.

“I’m glad” She yawned, “You deserve to feel good.”

He stroked absentmindedly through her hair as she began to nod off. Her sweet words overwhelmed him. Gods he wanted to kiss every inch of the strange, wonderful woman curled up in his lap, to taste him in other ways. He hadn’t expected the act of feeding to be so… intimate. He couldn’t be sure if it was always this way or if the elation he felt was a side effect of her being an eladrin. Either way, the temptation to hold her all night was undeniably present. A disheartening pang of thirst still lingered in his throat however and she was far too weak for him to take anymore. His other desires would simply have to wait.

“I hate to disturb you, darling, but you’ll have to excuse me.”

“You are not excused.”  Dafni huffed, snuggling closer in protest.

He tried to suppress the laugh but it was no use. She stuck out her lower lip in his favorite pout as he untangled himself from her. She reached up for him, wrapping her hand tightly around his wrist as he turned to leave.

“Come now.” He teased, “You’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” He bent down placing a kiss on her forehead, “This is a gift you know. I won’t forget. Now, sleep, Daffodil. I’ll be back in the morning.”

#bg3 astarion #astarion #elf writes #sunshine & starlight #bg3 oc #dafni of gwynneth #repost #rewrite #eladrin elf #d&d oc