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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 13 days

Text

Can’t

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 883 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: talking about sex, brief mention of intimacy, embarrassment, inability to orgasm, sweet Astarion, our understanding and loving boy

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Astarion had been between your legs for ages. You felt frustrated your body wouldn’t cooperate with you. The first time you were having sex and your body felt good but that was all. No build up, just good. You felt so disappointed in yourself. Sex had never brought you much pleasure, it was just something that never equated to what you had been told about. The heat. The passion. The carnal, primal need to fuck. You enjoyed sex, but you had never been able to climax from it. It’s why you avoided it so much, you hated disappointing your partner when they weren’t able to get you off. The look on their face was almost always insulted or annoyed. It’s why you had turned Astarion down at the tiefling party. And again in the Underdark. And now here you were, resting after defeating Kethric, ready to go to Baldur’s Gate tomorrow. Astarion had made it well known he liked you. Maybe he even loved you. So you thought you’d try, maybe this time would be different. But as you laid there you began to feel disgusted with yourself and your uncooperative body. You pushed Astarion away from your heat with your foot as you sat up. You pulled a large shirt over yourself, covering everything in a black cloth that swallowed you into a void. You crossed your arms over your chest, putting your defenses up.

Astarion’s face scrunched up, confused. “What… what happened? What’s wrong?” His eyes were worried as they raked over you.

You sniffled before you coughed as you wiped your eyes quickly. “I just… um, can we stop?”

Astarion put his clothes back on, “Of course.” He said. He stayed where he was, not wanting to invade your space.

Your mind was splitting, everything yelling at you to get rid of him and that this was a huge mistake. “This… we never should have done this.” You whispered, mostly to yourself.

Astarion’s face dropped, “I can do other things darling, you merely got a taste of what I can do. If there’s one thing I know for certain it’s that I’m an excellent lover.” He smirked, trying to get you to look at him or smile.

“I…” you said before your voice wobbled, watery and holding back a flood of tears, “can’t.”

“Can’t?” He said with confusion all over him, “Can’t what?”

“I can’t do this… I’m sorry.” You said, gesturing between the two of you.

“Can’t have sex or can’t be with me?” He asked bluntly, fear bubbling up inside of him.

“One in the same, aren’t they?” You scoffed slightly.

“No.” He said with every bit of confidence.

“Of course I want to be with you…” you said, reaching out a hand for him.

He took it immediately, scooting closer to you before he kissed your knuckles. “But you don’t want to have sex?” He asked, looking up into your glassy eyes.

You avoided his gaze, having never disclosed your little issue. “I… I don’t know… maybe?”

“Pet, if it’s not an enthusiastic yes then it’s a no. Plain and simple.” He said.

“It’s not that I don’t want to… I just… I um…” you felt your cheeks heating up by the second. You closed your eyes and took a breath, “I can’t… climax during sex. I’ve never been able to.” You said quietly, “Don’t get me wrong, you were lovely and I am wildly attracted to you, body and soul… but my body… it just… I don’t know.” You hung your head, holding your face in your hands.

Astarion took your hands from your face gently. “My sweet, that’s ok. It doesn’t make me want you any less. This is good information to have. Thought I had lost my touch for a moment.” He said with a smile.

You chuckled, he always knew how to brighten your spirits. Even if only for a moment, he always managed it. “I’m really sorry, I know it’s disappointing and frustrating…” you sighed.

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize, this is just how your body is. I can still love you. And maybe we can try things out, see what you do and don’t like. Or you can show me how you get yourself off? I’m getting ahead of myself. Bottom line - nothing is wrong with you, don’t be sorry, and know that I still want you more than anything.” He smiled at you, a genuine, toothy grin.

You nodded, caressing his cheek as you pulled him into sweet kisses. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to do something else? Anything you want, the night is young.” He said.

It definitely wasn’t, it was deep into the night but to him I guess one could call it early? “Can we cuddle? And maybe have some tea?” You twiddled your thumbs, not wanting to sound stupid.

“That sounds lovely.” He smiled as he got up and got the tea ready.

You both sipped at your cups while snuggled up together. You blew out all the candles when you were done drinking. Astarion saw your eyelids growing heavy, he felt your heart slowing down. He cast dancing lights, knowing you liked watching the hypnotic lights before sleeping. He massaged your scalp at the base of your neck while muttering phrases of adoration to you.

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Naboo’s Note:

Hey! A quick little one shot for ya. Idk if anyone else struggles with this kinda issue but I def do (TMI? Sorry 😅) so I thought maybe this would be interesting to write given Astarion’s intimacy issues and having a reader with different kinds of issues. Anyways, love yall and will post again soon! XOXOXOXOXOXO

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forgeofthenine · 6 months

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Can I request headcanons for Dammon, and Zevlor unconsciously wrapped his tail around their waist or leg (I can't decide because I love both of it too much XD) when his human gn crush is about to leave? They're surprised because they thought he was being too nice to tell them to leave so they asked with hopeful eyes if they could talk to him a bit more.

I had a great time writing this, I love tiefling tails! I hope you don't mind Anon, I added Rolan into the headcanons too :)

I'd also like to point people over to @underdark-dreams again as their recent tail headcanons have been my latest brainrot and these definitely take some inspiration from them <3

Tiefling bachelors stopping you from leaving with their tails

Dammon

Dammon finds it so hard to control his natural instincts around you

His tail swishes and curls towards you near constantly

It's something any other tiefling can recognise as him showing interest, but to you it's just 'how he is'

This time, you're both talking at his forge, discussing inconsequential things despite the fact it's already falling dark

As Dammons tail starts to sway faster you think it might be that you've overstayed your welcome

Dammons lovely after all and might not want to send you home

Your attempt at saying good night is interrupted however, as a firm tail wraps over your back and holds you in place

As your voice fades, Dammons face bursts into a blush, finally realising what he's done

The tail leaves you almost as fast as it appeared, a disappointing development

Dammon clears his throat, eyes not knowing where to settle, and finally he looks at you again

"Well, would you like to stay for dinner?"

Zevlor

This man has great self-control

Years of military work in the hellriders has perfected how he acts

What threatens to undo that is your very presence

You're with him in his makeshift office again, having a good go over the maps before lunch

Standing with a short yawn, you mention not wanting to take too much of the leaders precious time

It's then that a small panic runs through Zevlor, the man not quite ready for his company to leave, so what does he do?

Wraps his tail gently around your calf

He near hangs his head in shame over how forward the gesture was, even for a non tiefling like you

What reassures him is hearing your laugh ring through the room, surprised eyes looking back up at you

"I'm- I am so sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Zevlor, if you want me to stay, I'd love to."

This man never wants to let you go

Rolan

I can very vividly see how exactly this would happen with Rolan

We all know this man is so, so stubborn and he hates doing what others tell him to

He's the master of Ramaziths tower, it's been a long day of lectures, he's still grading papers despite the raging cramp in his hand

So you creep into his study to try and ease him away and off to his bed

Rolans shoulders tense under your touch before relaxing again, the only response you'll get from him other than a small hum

After what feels like ages, you decide he's much too stubborn even for you

Nothing works, soft words, rubbing his shoulders gently, whispered threats-

It's only once you turn away that a sneaky tail wraps around you waist and pulls

In no time, you find yourself sitting across the wizards lap, his face pressing into your neck

His breath is warm over your skin, his tail even more so as it curls comfortably around you

Rolan sounds truly exhausted when he finally speaks

"I'll go to bed, but only if you come with me."

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #baldurs gate 3 rolan #dammon x reader #zevlor x reader #rolan x reader #bri answers

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

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something i've found that really doesn't get much attention are drow elves. my first Tav was a seldarine drow and she faced so much scrutiny and verbal backlash just for simply existing, even though she was a follower of eilistraee and lived on the surface. would you happen to have any HC's (SFW or NSFW i'm not picky) about astarion with a Drow elf?

Drows are fucking interesting, people shouldn't ignore them! Especially this rivalry between Lolth-sword drows and Seldarine Drows, who refuse to bow before the Spider Queen.

And since I am in angsty mood, I will write some headcanons abour poor Drow!Tav who pissed Lolth and became a Drider.

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Drow!Tav

You are an outcast who denied Lolth and embraced the old Seldarine gods of your ancestors.

Your eyes are red, and you can see in the dark.

A native to Menzoberranzan, you were inspired by stories about Drizzt Do'Urden.

Who'd denied Lolth, fled the city of slavers, and left to see the world outside the Underdark.

Of course, as a woman, you have nothing to fear. You are a daughter of a matriarch, an heiress. Why leave the city? Why embrace struggles?

Drizzt was a man, after all, and men are worth nothing in the eyes of the Drow women.

Still, you left.

And saw the sunlight for the first time in your life.

It burnt your eyes and left terrible sunburns on your delicate dark skin, but it was the happiest day of your life.

You got a hood and glasses, and some people think you were a vampire.

Actually, sometimes it's better to pretend you are a vampire than tell the truth about being a drow. Especially, to the elves.

But you are still very afraid. You are afraid of Lolth, who can get you and do something awful to you.

You find yourself with a tadpole in your brains - a tadpole that promises to save you from Lolth and your own kin.

You share your fears with Astarion - who also sees the tadpole as an opportunity to free himself from his evil master.

You actually have a lot in common. You understand his awe when he faces the sunshine - you felt the same when you left the Underdark.

And stories about Drizzt! You are two absolute fanboys!

He's read stories about him, and you grew up in his homecity. You even personally know people who knew him (and you are a bit related).

You talk about every single story about him, building theories and discussing facts.

And Astarion makes you tell him about Menzoberranzan. And the Underdark. And drows.

Besides, he has his racial stereotypes, you have yours.

By telling him this, you realize how much you miss your homeplace.

Of course, the surface is nice, but you notice your sight is getting worse and the skin suffers under sunshine.

When you face Oblodra at the Moonrise Towers, she orders you to give her Astarion, considering him your slave and concubine.

You refuse. One of the reasons you left the Underdark was because you hated that men were treated like something less than women (and gender inequality sucks in every form).

Of course, there is a lot of talk about boundaries. As a drow female, you love being in charge, you've been raised like that. Women rule, men obey.

Difficult to change.

Astarion, let's say, is ok not to be in charge, but he just stops talking to you if you command or order.

At the same time, it's something new for you as well. You've had lovers back home, obedient men, smaller in size and weaker in strength.

Having relationships with a man who isn't like that is something new.

When Astarion refuses to ascend and confesses he is afraid to lose his immunity to the sun, you take it as a sign.

Time to return home.

No matter how you love the surface, Astarion will be safe in the Underdark.

And all these spawns who owe you two their freedom. They can become your personal army, should you decide to start a war against the Spider Queen and her minions.

Tag list

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

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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months

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Maryë (Astarion x GN! AFAB Reader) MDNI 18 +

Synopsis: Astarion left to explore the world and himself following the death of the Netherbrain. You remain in Baldur’s Gate with your brother, Gale, resigning yourself to your fate as Astarion’s friend until you die. Until one day, you and Astarion begin to write letters back and forth. Except there is one letter in particular that you suspect isn’t from Astarion…

CW: minimal mentions of violence, smut, Oral (Female Receiving), PIV, Tav’s also just an oblivious idiot who apparently doesn’t think very hard about words (it’s me, I’m Tav the idiot and this is like my Fiancé and I’s friendship prior to ya know, dating lmfao)

Author note- I might also write this in AMAB! Format, but I need to do some… research first for accuracy. This is lightly edited and just some silly little thought I had. I wanted to write something not so detailed for once while I work on my drafts for Lethal Woman and She’s Not Acid Nor Alkaline. Also def stole a line from Tolkien and added to it at the end (this is me crediting).

You’ll either love this or hate this idk.

The title literally translates to Home in Elvish.

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

As always- likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, I am just terrible at responding.

Tav,

As much as I enjoy our current form of communication- I was wondering if I could come to see you in person.

I have so much I need to say to you and I want to be able to do it in person- the proper way.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours,

Astarion

You sit and stare at the letter like you have been doing for the last week since you received it. Unlike your half-brother, Gale, you are not one for words. It was hard to respond to Astarion’s letters initially until Gale “doctored” your responses- often putting whatever silly accomplishment you have achieved lately or stories Gale found interesting from your recent solo adventures.

“Are you going to write the letter or are you hoping it’s going to write itself?” Gale teases.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“I don’t know what to write back.”

“I could come up with a couple things!” Gale clears his throat, “‘ Oh Astarion- I’ve missed you terribly this whole time! I regret telling you that we should be friends until you figure things out! Despite my VERY WISE BROTHER’S ADVICE TO NOT DO THAT! I wait like a lovesick puppy at the mailbox every week hoping a letter may arrive!’”

You roll your eyes at him and throw one of his many decorative couch pillows at his head. He certainly has your mother’s flair for the dramatic. However, you can’t necessarily say he’s wrong- you have been nothing less than a smitten school girl waiting for letters non-stop.

Astarion had gone back to the Underdark after the last battle with the Netherbrain. He told you that he wanted to go and explore who he is- the world too.

You had been as enthusiastic as you could about the decision considering you had come up to him at the party with a letter in your hands asking if he would like to continue traveling with you after this- you had been too scared to say it outloud. A part of you hoped it may allow your romance to blossom without the impending threat of death at every corner. Well, if he still harbored any feelings for you at all.

You had merely smiled and told him how excited you are for him. It answered the silent question that had been there- was there still room in Astarion’s heart for you after you said you should just be friends and try again later?

The answer was ‘no’, despite Gale’s perplexed face and lecture when he found out you gave the spawn a send off with a ‘long’ hug (he made you describe it in detail). You refuse to give yourself any hope- you will remain a dutiful friend since you resigned yourself to this fate.

Then you received a Sending spell with him requesting your address and the letters began. You squealed like a schoolgirl when the first one came in and ripped it open enthusiastically. You didn’t realize Gale was home, otherwise you wouldn’t have read it out in the open- Tara snitched on you!

You had only truly met Gale around a couple months prior to your mutual abduction. Your mother had asked you to assist a brother you never knew about in finding magical artifacts- you quickly learned it was because the man was becoming a damn recluse.

You had worried he’d slam the door in your face or turn you into a sheep for all of eternity- the minute you told him your name was Tav Dekarios, he pulled you in for a hug and told you he had been awaiting your arrival. Gale was thrilled to know that, like him, you were also a prodigy in your craft.

You are a virtuoso master with any instrument you touch and you cast spells that are almost far too good to be true. You became Oghma’s Chosen in your teen years after spending many years practicing under his mentorship (which is why you and Gale had a very weird, serious talk one night about how Mystra is kind of a fucking pedophile) and that allowed you to do incredible things.

Your notes could create shimmery images and tell stories- Arabella and the other tiefling children (even the very tough Mol) enjoy coming over and watching war tales be told with nothing but a drum and a rain stick. Sometimes you let them tell tales and you come up with a tune to match it- eventually finding a rhythm to put your mind into and create the picture.

It was one of the many things Astarion mentioned in his note- he stated that none of the other Bards even begin to hold a candle to your talent. You blushed deeply when you read the line.

He told you about everything he had seen, everyone he had met, what he’s found out about himself, and shockingly enough- how much he misses you. It had taken you by total surprise, but you responded saying you missed him too.

Pet names began to flow easily into inked lines and it felt like you had a tiny part of him back in your life- your friendship is still as strong as it was before he left.

The letters have quickly become the best part of your week and occasionally you’ll read them with Arabella. She ooos and awwws, then attempts to bully you into tell Astarion your feelings. You cast a mini rain shower over her head with a few poetic words for the suggestion. You don’t want to ruin what you have and there is always the possibility that he found someone else.

However, you weren’t unsure of this particular note because you didn’t want to see Astarion- you would love that. The issue is that it doesn’t look like his handwriting, it isn’t the paper he uses (he’s ridiculously particular), and it doesn’t flow. Gale thinks you are over analyzing it, but you are pretty sure that this isn’t Astarion’s writing. He also addresses you as “Darling” not Tav and signs the letter of with “‘Órenya ná órelya” (my heart is your heart) not “Yours”.

You’ve waited for another note to come in since, but nothing has. You are beginning to wonder if Gale is right and you really are just being paranoid.

“I already told you, Gale,” you say with annoyance, “something isn’t right about this note. I don’t think this is from him which is worrisome because that means I haven’t heard from him in two weeks WHICH could MEAN-“

“For the love of Gods- TAV,” Gale yells, effectively shutting you up, “my young, oblivious little sibling. Just say yes and let him come visit.”

*********************************************************

It had been two days since you sent the sending stone and there was no response. Not that it would have mattered anyway considering you are somewhere in the Underdark in a very beautifully lit cave. Neon, blue veins of magic run through the rock. The pathway is lit with glowing flowers and…. Benches?

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the market and the next- Astarion had come up to you from an alleyway and said he needed help. He had told you that he would love to catch up, but there is an injured child around the corner and since he can only stay in the shadows, he needs you to help them. Before you knew it- someone hit you with a sleep spell and the last thing you remember seeing is stars as your head slammed into the pavement. Oh and a, “oooooffff my bad” before you blacked out.

You blink your eyes a few more times, trying to figure out what in the wretched hells is going on.

“Oh for the love of- I told you to talk to Oghma’s Chosen! Not kidnap her and give her a serious concussion!”

A hazy, short figure comes into your vision. Is that…. a Deep Gnome?

“You told us it was imperative for the wedding! We intercepted the real letter and wrote this one,” another Gnome says, “and it worked! They showed up and everything! We’ve been watching since you told us to talk to her two weeks ago! We were running out of time for talking and bargaining so we just-“

“Kidnapped them!” the man yells, “you kidnapped them!? You- you imbeciles! They are supposed to want to perform for the wedding- you had at least six more hours! AND I GAVE YOU TWO WEEKS!”

“But Walby-“

Walby.

You know Walby! He and Barcus have been dating for a while now and the two are over the moon smitten. You are very happy for Barcus- this man is everything Wulbern could never be.

“No! I have had enough of your silliness! Leave me at once!”

You hear the three Gnomes that supposedly ambushed you walk off in angry huffs. A flash of healing magic fills the air and your head is finally clear- your ears no longer ringing like a triangle.

“My apologies, Ms.Dekarios,” Walby, says, “I wanted them to give you an invitation to come to Barcus’ and I’s wedding this afternoon, but as you heard, they are not the brightest bunch.

“It’s a very last minute ceremony- my mother is ill and she wants to see her ‘baby’ get married before she goes. We wanted to wait another year to plan, but oh you know how it goes!”

Walby looks at you sheepishly as you blink a few more times and let his words sink in. You look at the man and try not to throw up from sitting upright. You must have been out for a while, but not in a “oh that was a wonderful beauty nap” kind of way. You are pretty sure you have a decent amount of blood caked to the side of your head and neck right now.

“Oh, well in that case,” you offer a good natured smile, “I’ll consider this the most unique wedding invitation I’ve ever received and one I may not even have the privilege of remembering.”

The man laughs heartily as you stand up and brush your clothing off. You’re glad you wore a nicer outfit today and decided to bring your violin along- Oghma must have wanted to make sure you were prepared.

“I also wanted to ask a favor,” he says meekly, “if I haven’t fallen out of your good graces before I even stepped foot in them- that is.”

You smile and just roll your eyes.

“Consider it water under the bridge. How can I be of service?”

“Well, you see- we had asked an acquaintance of ours to play music and uh. There’s no easy way to put this, but he was run over by a herd of Deep Rothé.”

“Hmm,” you say with a snort, “tough crowd- Deep Rothés.”

Ultimately, you agreed to perform for the ceremony and the little dinner party afterwards. Your music decorated the air with golds and silvers. Barcus was thrilled to have you there and thanked you immensely for allowing his mother-in-law to “witness true magic” before she leaves this plane.

By the time you were finally leaving- you hear two very familiar voices scream your name and come barreling towards you.

*****************************************

Astarion and Gale are practically sprinting as they try to track your location through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. They had just found a large spot of your blood sticking to the cobblestone and leading to the sewer. Astarion feels sick when he notices the path leads back into the Crimson Palace. Thankfully it was through the sewer and straight to the tunnel of the Underdark.

He had sent you a letter a few days ago and he had confessed his feelings. Instead of waiting for you to respond like a sane person, Astarion got the hell out of the inn he was staying at and began the four day trek to Baldur’s Gate. The nice part about traveling alone and not needing to breath is that Astarion could run from place to place if he was in a hurry or was just fed up with traveling already.

Astarion quickly learned that it was boring to be alone and it’s far more fun to share adventures with you. He also learned that he might be a semi-decent person on his own because, in spite of being without your physical presence, he continues to fucking help people. Astarion is really over this whole moral compass thing (it only extends so far though, he’s still a proud Bastard at heart).

When he arrived at your home about an hour and a half ago, Gale had informed him that you had gone out to the Market and was confused when Astarion said his letter shouldn’t have arrived yet. It took longer than usual to write for… reasons.

Gale showed him the note you received and the two of them pieced together that someone had definitely set up a trap- just not a very good one. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose when Gale told him that you definitely figured out the letter wasn’t from him, but Gale encouraged you to respond anyway.

A part of him is incredibly worried that some of the remaining Bhaal cultists have taken you since they are the only people he could think of that would be able to mimic his form. His stomach still turns when he thinks about the time they realized Orin had taken you. This is giving him the same queasy feeling.

So imagine his and Gale’s surprise when you are walking away from some random spot seemingly unscathed. Except Astarion won’t believe that until he has inspected you for injuries himself.

You look positively shell-shocked to see him and even more surprised when he’s taking your face gently in his hands and begins to check for injuries.

“Are you alright, Darling?” He says in a far more panicked voice than he means to, “we found blood- I thought the worst and your idiot brother! Of course that letter wasn’t from me! I have class, my Dear! I would never use that paper and WHY IN THE HELLS WOULD YOU FOLLOW ME OF ALL PEOPLE!?”

He knows his ‘rage’ doesn’t sound like rage- it sounds like a man who thought his only love had been on the brink of death only moments ago. Astarion is trying to keep a serious face, but the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at him is making him want to dissolve. He’s thrilled to see that after a whole year of not being together that your feelings haven’t waivered. Neither have his, obviously, but that’s why he’s here.

“I will say, Tav,” Gale says with exasperation, “you even gave Tara a fright- you should be expecting a very long lecture when we get home.”

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you say with a beaming smile, your eyes never leaving Astarion’s, “but I do have quite the story if you would like to hear it?”

Astarion’s grin stretches across his entire face.

“I think a good story, better company, and some wine would make for a fine evening, my Dear.”

“Gross!” Gale says, “but I’ll tag along for some wine.”

Oh dammit.

****************************

If Astarion wasn’t so busy feasting upon you- then he probably would have already hunted down those stupid Gnomes that gave him a fright and found a windmill to fling them from. Gale had left only 15 minutes ago, but Astarion had made quick work in getting you up to his room and having his way with you.

The minute Gale left, the conversation became flirty and teasing- all the want that has been pooling in his body is finally getting the release it needs. You, like always, are a sight to behold.

Your back arches when his tongue drags along your clit and Astarion pushes your hips down into the mattress as your arousal paints his lips. Your moans and desperate cries of pleasure are so delicious and his cock is painfully hard, straining against his leather pants.. He is fighting between taking his time and being selfish- chasing his own pleasure inside of you.

The moment you clench around his fingers is the same moment he unlaces his own pants and begins to remove them. You keen and whine underneath him- Astarion’s name sounds the best coming from you in this state.

Astarion should be a gentleman, hypothetically, and maybe give you a half a second to be a little less dazed from your orgasm. Except Astarion isn’t a gentleman and he isn’t patient- at all.

Astarion lifts your hips up to his until the head of his cock is aligned with your entrance and he thrusts himself inside of you. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips with a yelp of pleasure and your eyes flutter wildly as you take his whole length. Astarion smiles down at you as he slowly rocks in and out of you.

Your fingers find their way to his hair and you pull Astarion’s face down to yours- stunning him with a mind numbing kiss. He snaps his hips at the sensation and the moan you let out causes whatever resolve he had to break. Astarion releases the hold you have on his lips and kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“Did you like that, my Love?”

You hum in approval and try to pull his mouth back to yours. He interrupts you by thrusting into you two more times with more power than the first one.

“Asta-,,” you attempt to say his name between thrusts, “Astarion please.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Pet,” he teases, “I don’t even know if I know what you like anymore- maybe you don’t even like thi-“

Your legs tighten around his hips as he goes to pull completely out of you. Astarion quirks his eyebrow at you with a smirk as you look at him with desperation.

“I more than liked it- I loved it,” you whisper with your cheeks burning from your shyness.

Oh and how Astarion loves your shyness. His hands fist the sheets as he starts his agonizingly slow rhythm inside of you again- whimpers falling from deep within your chest.

“See, Darling,” Astarion says as his face falls into the crook of your neck, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before Astarion’s hips begin to pick up speed and his mouth covers yours. As much as he loves to hear you moan- he doesn’t care to share that experience with any of the patrons that had been obviously checking you out while you were catching up.

Astarion groans against your lips as he continues to fuck you relentlessly- his fangs nip at your lower lip and lap at the tiny droplets of blood that seep from the punctures.

You are a mess underneath him and you feel incredible in every way possible. Astarion never wanted this to stop in the first place- back when he had told you his feelings and you said it would be best to be friends for the time being.

Perhaps that’s what causes him to slow down and kiss you deeply- making up for the lack of speed with more force. One of his hands trails along your chest and begins to tease your sensitive nipples- your walls clench around him hard when he begins to pinch and roll the right one and your orgasm coats him as he moves to play with the left.

You kiss him sloppily and he’s lazily thrusting into you- his own Little Death following yours within seconds. Astarion collapses on top of you as he begins to soften inside of you. The smell of you and him mixed together is intoxicating and your heartbeat is hammering from the pleasure- your eyes glassy and tired with bliss. He laughs breathily before placing a kiss on your swollen lips.

Astarion lifts you up ever so slightly so that he can pull the blanket down and over you, then he adjusts himself and you so that you are curled up with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair absentmindedly and you lightly draw shapes on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you say sleepily, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Astarion says while pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m happy to be home.”

“Oh I’m sure Baldur’s Gate is-“

“You are my home,” Astarion interrupts you, “I’ve come to realize that wherever you are is where I want to be.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and happiness in your heart.

“But what about exploring your new life and all of that jazz?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for you,” Astarion states, “you helped me kill Cazador and break the cycle of ongoing abuse. You gave me life so I could live it and I want to live it with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just being friends and holding back my feelings. I want to share my life with you.

“I know this may all seem very fast, but” Astarion grabs his pants off the ground and he feels his stomach turn as he pulls the box out of his pocket, “I know I love you- that’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my entire 239 years of existence. I- I wanted to know if you would… marry me?”

Your lips are on his within seconds and the two of you become entangled in soft kisses until you have to pull back for air. You lean your forehead against his and meet his gaze.

“I love you so much, Astarion. Yes- yes I will marry you,” you say tearfully, “I want to share my life with you too.”

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 6 months

Note

Saw you are taking requests and had a thought: Astarion’s been wandering the realm for the past hundred years after your death, searching for your reincarnation. He has looked everywhere, from the hells to the underdark and still nothing. Just when he’s about to give up, he finds you.

❛ missed my touch that much, did you? ❜ from the prompt list fits really well 🙊

Ngl I headcanon Ascended!Astarion would do this because he cant let go

Rated M (to be safe)

Your death was bound to happen, the mortal lifespan of any race seems so finite compared to the immortality of a vampire. Ascendant. A Lord among the many named in vampiric history.

He hated himself for letting you slip away, for believing you would return to him begging for his love and gift. Instead, he attended a funeral service honoring your life. The Hero of Baldur’s Gate, they even gave you a statue…

How many years has he longed for you? Waited and searched for you. Astarion has since lost faith in the Gods but he has faith you will appear once more, with your smile and doe eyes, his bird to lock away when he finds you.

And find you he does.

The world is different and more advanced, his shadowy hold on Baldur’s Gate long completed, Astarion is pleased to introduce you to a life without struggle. A life where he can grant you everything.

"I swear I've seen you before." This is how the meeting goes, he is pleased to see his influence over you has not faded. You loved him, you showed him love, but then you took it away.

Not this time.

"Astarion?" By the time you know his name, or recall it, his claws have trapped you in the palm of his hands. His beloved partner once more, he grins with glee and possessiveness.

He savors this night with you, savors the way you now clearly remember him. Eyes of fear yet he can see the love you have for him; goodness, you mustn't hide from him. He wants you as badly as you want him, soon you will admit it. Beg for him too.

"You missed my touch that much, did you?"

You want to say no but your body betrays you as it yearns for his hands, how he touches you like you are made of glass. Fragile, to be treasured. You bite down on your lips as he bites your neck— Not to feed but to mark, he has grown much more territorial since you abandoned him for mortality.

His lips every inch of your body, his voice whispers the dark pleasures he will share with you, you shutter as he fits perfectly with yours as it did back then.

"My dark consort," You cry out as he begins stealing your life away, stealing you away into a world of blood and shadows. "My little love, never shall we be parted again."

#baldur's gate 3 #anon ask #reader insert #astarion #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion x tav

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stars-and-inkpots · 7 months

Text

Promise Me | Gale x Reader

Gale accepts his fate so eagerly, and you don't understand why. You don't understand how he can leave everything- how he can leave you behind without hesitation.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, can be read as platonic

Notes: I don't have much to say about this one other than that I love Gale a lot and the fact that he just agreed to this in game makes me so sad when I think about it too deeply

Ao3 Link: Promise Me

Word Count: 1,415

When Elminster showed up, in the Underdark no less, to tell Gale that he could earn his Goddess’s forgiveness by effectively killing himself, you could hardly understand it. What made you even more confused, was Gale’s apparent acceptance of the task.

You had tried to interrupt them. You tried to explain how irrational the whole idea was, but Gale only waved away your attempts. He was accepting the task, seemingly eager to be a martyr.

You expect Gale to change his mind once Elminster leaves. You expect him to tell you that he only agreed so he could get the orb under control. But when Elminster is gone, Gale affirms his choice once more. Nothing you said could change his mind, and he refused to talk on the matter any more for the rest of the night.

It was cruel of Mystra to ask this of him, and you can’t understand how Gale can’t see this.

The next morning, Gale acts as though the whole interaction never happened.

He’s still smiling, still full of sarcastic comments that always seemed to lighten the mood while you all made your way through the Underdark. The next day is much the same.

Everytime you try to talk to him, he’s conveniently out doing something else, or so busy with his studies that he “absolutely cannot spare a single moment.” As much as you care about him, it’s starting to annoy you just how long he’s willing to continue ignoring you.

“Glaring at him every time he’s not looking isn’t going to accomplish much, my dear,’ Astarion says quietly. You’ve been walking back to camp for the better half of an hour, and you know you should be paying more attention to what’s around you given how dangerous the Underdark can be.

“I know,” you grumble.

“Have you talked with him about it?” The two of you are quiet enough that Gale won’t hear you.

“No. He’s been avoiding me.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Astarion hums. “I imagine he’s scared.”

“Of me or blowing up?” You joke, maybe in poor taste, but it’s the first smile you’ve had in a while and Astarion appreciates the humour given the situation.

“Both, definitely both.” Astarion smiles. “You can be quite scary when you’re angry. Maybe he thinks blowing up will be easier than answering to you.” It’s an awful thing to joke about, you think again, but you laugh anyway because there really is nothing else you can do. “I mean it though, that’s probably why he hasn’t said anything about it. As much as I hate to defend him, I’m sure he’s just trying not to think about it.”

“You’re being strangely thoughtful, Astarion; dare I say considerate,” you tease. Astarion raises a hand to his chest in mock pain.

“You wound me, pet. Am I not such a beacon of empathy all of the time?”

“Alright, alright,” you laugh, loud enough this time for the whole group to hear. You wait a few moments before speaking again, sure that no one is still listening. “I’ll talk to him tonight then. I promise I won’t be too mean to him.” Of course, you couldn’t be mean to the man if you tried. You could be annoyed with Gale all you wanted, but you know that you would never be able to voice that anger. You know the look on Gale’s face would be too much, and you would immediately feel terrible. You know your anger is not truly anger. It’s fear, and it’s sadness.

---

“Gale, I wanted to talk with you.” You watch as Gale freezes, hand reaching for the book he wasn’t quick enough to pick up before you arrived.

“Ah, my apologies, I was just about to-” Gale trails off when he finally looks up at you.

You don’t look angry, you look like you’re already grieving. You can feel the tears that already threaten to fall, and you know they likely will soon. “Gale,” you whisper, because you know your voice can’t handle any more than that without faltering. “Please. I just want to talk.”

“Alright,” Gale relents. He lets you inside the tent first, sitting down across from him on the organised mess of blankets surrounded by books. He looks guilty when he looks back at you, but he doesn’t say anything yet; you know he’s waiting for whatever you have to say. You can’t bring yourself to look at him yet.

“I’m sorry,” you start, and Gale is both surprised and confused. “I haven’t been very fair to you. I was so caught up in how I felt about everything that I didn’t consider how you might think of it.”

Gale expected you to yell; to show some sort of resentment for his apparent acceptance of the terms of his ‘apology’ to Mystra.

“I know I can’t change your mind. If you decide you want to go through with this, it’s your decision. I just want you to promise me something.” You finally look up at him, and Gale can see you’re crying now.

“I can try,” Gale answers honestly. He’s never been fond of promises, especially when they could be so easily broken.

You make a pained sort of noise. “Please. Promise.” You move closer to him, close enough that your knees are touching his.

“I promise,” Gale decides. He’ll keep this one. If there are any promises he will keep, it has to be this one. You look relieved, but the frown creasing your brow hasn’t left you yet. The expression doesn’t suit you, Gale thinks, having grown accustomed to seeing you smiling so often despite everything. Knowing that he’s the reason for it only serves to make him feel worse.

“Whenever you decide you’re going to do it, whether you decide that morning or the night before, you have to let me say goodbye. You can’t just leave when no one is looking. You have to tell me. You have to say goodbye to me.” Even though Gale already promised, it still feels like you’re begging him for this. The thought of never knowing when the last time you would see him would be made you sick. If he was going to go through with this, he had to give you this. You had to have the opportunity to say goodbye to him. To see him one last time.

Gale doesn’t know what to say. He’s made the promise, but he knows it will be easier for himself if he leaves before he can change his mind. He knows that he has to leave well before anyone can hope to catch up with him if he wants any chance that they would be safe from the aftermath. He knows that if he has to face you before he leaves, he’s not going to be able to go through with it. You’ll only make him remember how much he truly doesn’t want to die- how terrified he is of death.

So instead of saying anything, Gale leans forward and hugs you.

You’re quick to wrap your arms tightly around him, clutching at the back of his shirt like he’s already about to leave. He lets you sob into his shirt, only just holding back tears himself.

Is this what it’s like? To have someone care about you so completely- unconditionally. Someone who cares for not only your safety above all else, but would beg you for just the chance to say goodbye before you leave. You had assured him there had to be another way, and at the time, Gale assumed it was simply because you didn’t want to risk being caught in the crossfire. But now he knows that it wasn’t that at all. The thought of Gale’s death scares you just as much as it does himself.

“I’m not leaving,” he says quietly. “You said we can find another way. We’ll find it.”

“I don’t want to stop you from doing what you want to do. It’s your choice, Gale, but you have to know that it’s unfair of Her to ask this of you. You don’t deserve this.” You don’t want him to change his mind because of you. You want him to change his mind because he understands his life is worth it. His life is worth more than the forgiveness of a Goddess who doesn’t care about him.

Gale’s arms tighten around you. He may not believe your words just yet, but it’s a start.

It’s a promise.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #gale x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #gale x you #x reader fic #gale dekarios

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pheavampire · 8 months

Text

Astarion, Cazador and D&D vampire lore

Let’s talk about D&D vampires and some lore inconsistencies in Baldur’s Gate 3.

BG3 is not a game about vampires. It was obvious we won’t get a playable character who will be 100% vampire spawn from the handbooks - the mechanical balance would be disturbed in comparison with other characters. But we can list some weird stuff and missing aspects. For fun, for fanfiction, for nerdiness.

I still wonder why Cazador even asked Astarion if he wants to be turned. Sure, he could do that, so he could say later „ha ha you asked for it!” but still - weird. Anyway, a vampire lord doesn’t need to ask - he just bites his victim, kills it by drinking its blood and boom, a vampire spawn is made. Almost made…

… because at first the victim needs to be buried and layed in the ground before it rises. That’s the next question - how the hell did Cazador make 7000 spawns? Theoretically he needed to bury them all, dig them back/wait until they dig themselves out or something and transport them to his dungeon without being noticed. His servants could do that for him, but it still is a pretty big thing to cover. Besides…

… accordng to D&D 3.5 edition: "At any given time a vampire may have enslaved spawn totaling no more than twice its own Hit Dice" which means it was impossible for Cazador to create 7000 spawns. Sure, Baldur's Gate 3 uses 5 ed rules, but I'm sure they didn't change this one that much. (BUT! We can interpret this rule as: a vampire lord can create as many spawns as he wants, but the number of enslaved ones is limited. That's all right in this case).

That being said, Astarion is surprised when he discovers that all Cazador’s victims are spawns now. One of his dialogue options is „I thought Cazador was feeding on you”. Well yes, he had to feed on them to make them spawns Astarion, I thought you noticed that yourself 200 years ago. But let's say I understand your confusion, 7000 spawns mean Cazador's hit dice is 3500. Lol.

As a vampire spawn, Astarion should be able to regenerate even without biting someone. To be precise, he should get 10 health points at the start of every turn until he gets killed. But ok, this one doesn’t work in the sun, so let’s say it’s justified… unless the party is in the underdark, shadowlands or other dark place. But yeah, that would be too OP.

Astarion should be afraid of holy symbols, mirrors and garlic. That would be quite irritating, as he wouldn’t be able to even get near Selune's stuff or Lathander’s temple (Lathander HATES the undead, just ask poor Jander Sunstar). But let’s say the tadpole gave him immunity.

Spider climb. Imagine Astarion climbing walls or even ceilings like a damn Spiderman - this is what a regular vampire spawn can do. If the tadpole took away this ability, that’s not very nice of it.

Claws. Astarion should be able to transform his fingers into claws at will. That’s right, it works like another melee weapon.

Coffins, graves et cetera - bunk beds in Cazador's palace are a very anti-canon idea. Because D&D vampires have really traditional weaknesses, they always have to „sleep” in the ground they were buried in to recover - just like Cazador. Jander I mentioned earlier invented an un-lifehack, as he was traveling through Faerun by keeping some of the dirt from his grave in his pocket. He was scattering it in the place he wanted to rest for some time.

A vampire spawn can be controlled or banished by clerics like any other undead. That's right, when Shadowheart casts this one, Astarion should roll the dice, or else he will have to run away from her like those zombies you banished during your playthrough.

Last but not least, vampires get damage if they are in the flowing water, for example river, but you already know this one from the early access Astarion. Shame they removed it, in was a bit irritating but I loved it. It reminded me Astarion is a vampire not only in the dialogues.

That's all I can think of now. My knowledge is a mix of 3.5 and 5 ed, do with it what you want. I wouldn't mind more lore accuarte Astarion fanfics though.

Shocked Astarion reading D&D Monster Manual. Or Libris Mortis.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #cazador szarr #cazador #vampire spawn #dungeons and dragons #d&d #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

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meanbossart · 3 months

Note

I love Izzy so much, I feel for him tremendously.

Can you tell us something about his future relationship, whatever it might be, with Grodderick? Or is it under wraps for spoilers? 👀

Sure! The details of their relationship are never relevant to the plot, it's more of a background thing that changes some very minor character interactions in ways I doubt one can predict by simply learning about it - I'll still leave it under a cut for anyone who wants to avoid it. I'll also skip certain story beats which allow their relationship to happen in the first place that are most definitely spoilers, and only talk about the actual dynamic between them and post-ANE events, so if details feel amiss, that's because they are.

So it's probably obvious that they're meant to develop a romantic relationship lol this happens after Grodderick gets somewhat "stuck" with Izzy around through certain circumstances. Izzantar, in his predicament, happens to be far more comfortable around him than anyone else because of his predisposition to feel safe around "slave" races. Now, that's obviously not a great start to any relationship, romantic or otherwise lol but it is what it is.

They grow a little closer through Grodderick's endless patience and sincere curiosity about a culture he isn't familiar with. Izzantar, despite his experiences, considers the underdark his home, he can only properly conceptualize of surface customs by comparing them to his own culture, and Grodderick is the only one willing to hear it without judgement - with the eventual wisecrack or pushback. But the way he does it is one Izzantar comfortable with.

Likewise Izzantar would probably defy Grod's own generalized negativity around the orc-ish side of his culture (and frankly be positively shocked it has any merit at all). It's a funny little game of "no, YOU have internalized hate" they keep playing between themselves by accident.

Another major point here is that Grodderick is a) the only person who sees Izzantar as an adult and b) someone who immediately recognizes him as someone with an anxiety disorder. With time he would help Izzy to calm the fuck down and not always assume the worse out of people. His company also allows Izzantar to feel more at ease in public settings in the surface as a drow, and Izzy's brazen company and completely unfiltered perspective is a breath of fresh air to Grodderick. He thinks he's funny, he recognizes and participates in his dry humor, he doesn't offend easy, and he's the furthest thing from a drow. This makes him an apt friend choice and later a romantic interest. Being hot and having cool tats helps LOL

Also they both like to partake in a little devil🌿 which is likely how their first meaningful interaction ever happens (Izzantar sees him smoking and is like "oh boy I could really fucking use some of that right now")

They probably starting fucking kind of casually. It's entirely on Izzantar to pursue him since Grodderick isn't interested in feeding a drow's ego, which is a funny interaction of its own where Izzantar just blows up frustrated that he won't make the first move, since he's used to being a very passive partner. Something along the lines of "WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO FUCK ME" probably comes out his mouth verbatim LOL they get over this non-misunderstanding quickly and Izzantar is just happy to have sex in a way that's completely the opposite of what's expected of him in the Underdark as a popular breeder. Obviously he also finds Grodderick profoundly attractive both for his confidence, smarts, appearance, and frankly his imposing presence because he's not immune to a little bad-boy charm.

I think they catch feelings around the same time as one another, and proceed to get on a long-term relationship.

Izzantar (this is post ANE and never mentioned) eventually sets shop somewhere as a jeweler. He gets a lot of business based on the fact that he's a drow and knowingly plays up the part of someone who's mystically more knowledgeable and skilled about precious stones and minerals than most because of his race (on top of his genuine talent). His bad attitude is also hysterically seen as charming drow bedside-manner and indicative of the quality of his work to wealthy clients.

He lets his hair grow out and for semi-plot-related-reasons starts passing as a female drow (also, he just likes it) Grodderick doesn't care either way. At that point they're living together and get a cat that Izzantar names Angkacha. To his despair, Grodderick nickanames it Chacha and it sticks. Izzy wants the cat to be a vicious killing machine but whenever he casts animal speak on it the cat's just like OOOO MAMA ME LOVE MAMA and he hates it (but not really, he would kill for this cat)

aaaand here's some old doodles of him from that point of his life! The last two have been uh cropped for uh reasons

#ask #izzantar godseck

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lunastrophe · 2 months

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Hi! I love your blog and deep dives. I was wondering if you had any thoughts on the Lolth-worshipper stuff you can find in the whispering depths, close to the well entrance. If I remember correctly, the journals suggest that the worshipper of lolth was an elf but not a drow? Do you think it might connect to any of the other characters we run into in bg3?

Hello, and thank you for an interesting question!

The story of Eliette, the high elf who began to worship Lolth and became the phase spider matriarch, is a very interesting and tragic one. So far, unfortunately, I found no connections between her and other characters from BG3 (or from D&D lore in general).

I suppose that it might be possible to create such connections - only, we do not know very much about Eliette and her past.

🕷️ Surface Life - from the Bloody Journal we know that the elf who became the phase spider was named Eliette. She was a high elf from the surface, but where or when exactly she lived - it is a mystery.

This fragment: "I weep for the decades spent treading the murky waters of profanity..." may suggest that Eliette was still a young elf when she was taken to the Underdark - she wrote about "decades" spent on the surface, not "centuries".

🕷️ Captured - Eliette mentioned "drow captors" in her journal, so at some point, she was clearly captured and brought to the Underdark.

From time to time, drow organize night raids on the surface settlements, and many elves do not survive such attacks. Drow typically prefer to kill them (or torment them and kill them later) than to let them live. It is quite possible, then, that Eliette was captured during such a raid - and that she saw many of her family members and friends dying that night 😔

🕷️ Slave - Lolth-sworn drow usually do not have a habit of keeping surface elves as slaves - they hate them by default and they think them (and surfacers in general) weak and ill-suited for life in the Underdark.

There are exceptions, though. Some drow may want to keep a particularly skilled or interesting elf as a useful slave, a curiosity or a plaything (Halsin's story can be an example of that).

Eliette clearly possessed some knowledge of arcane arts (sketched spell runes in the journal) - so maybe that was the reason why her drow captors found her too useful to simply kill her. Regardless of the reason, she survived and was kept by some noble house as a slave - for a long time, probably, since her own name began to feel "foreign" to her at some point.

🕷️ Menzoberranzan - Eliette mentioned "arachnomancers of Menzoberranzan" in her journal, so we can probably safely assume that this was the city where she was kept as a slave. She must have seen arachnomancers there and picked up some knowledge about them since later, she was able to recognize one's sigils (Tattered Journal).

I have no idea which one of the noble houses of Menzoberranzan could keep Eliette as their slave. She wrote: "I see their house's downfall in visions granted by the Spider Queen herself. When that day comes, when some unnamed whelp from an insignificant house cuts the matron mother's throat..." - but there is nothing overly specific there.

If her visions were true, the house ultimately ended up destroyed and its matron mother was killed - but it is a common end for many drow houses, both lesser and greater ones.

Maybe arachnomancers could be some clue - at least one noble house was particularly associated with them. For example, house wizard of House Melarn of Menzoberranzan was an arachnomancer and Melarni seemed to have an affinity for arachnomancers in general. But the end of the house from Eliette's vision would not fit...

🕷️ To sum things up - Eliette's story is not connected to any BG3 character, but theoretically, some Lolth-sworn drow from Menzoberranzan might remember her:

elven slave is not exactly a usual sight in a drow city, so - unless Eliette was rarely seen outside of the house compound - someone might have noticed her,

many Lolth-sworn drow would find the story about high elf being fascinated by Lolth utterly delightful - or absurd. Either way, it would probably make a popular rumour,

some Menzoberranyr drow might connect Eliette's vision described in her journal with some house's story, recognizing the facts.

These are only "what if..." scenarios, though.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #lolth sworn drow #drow lore #drow culture #phase spider

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sorcerous-caress · 6 months

Note

I had two thoughts that I can't stop thinking

First was like the obvious like girl dad male drow and Minthara. Cute, Intense TM couple and their warrior daughters. But the second thought was like would it get angsty if Minthara had a son?

Dude i literally had this exact same thought when i answered the ask.

Minthara in-depth Character study + Media literacy 101 below cut.

[Tw: themes of abuse discussed]

First of all

Characters are tools.

All characters are not real, Minthara is not a real person. She is pixels, Minthara can't abuse or be abused because she isn't real.

What she can do, is be a tool or a puppet to tell a story about abuse.

Second of all

Evil characters are not bad characters. Morally wrong characters are not bad writing.

A character doesn't have to be good, moral or have a redemption arc. A character only needs to be compelling, interesting and dynamic.

Third of all

The writers aren't horrible people or freaks for putting a character through trauma or shitty events. Their job is to make an interesting story and not a life guidance manual for newborns.

These shitty events happen to real-life people. Go direct your energy to helping them instead of fictional characters depictions that allow safe exploration of dark themes where no real people are getting harmed.

I'm so proud of you for understanding this. Here is your complimentary media literacy degree. 🎊

Minthara was written to be a typical drow, she was never meant to be the good drow that stands out or rejects the brutality of drow culture.

The drow twins in sharess caress are the unique good drows that completely opted out of drow culture.

Minthara was never meant to be that, no matter how much you twist her or try to look for a deeper meaning. At her core, even after abandoning Lolth, she still abids by drow culture rules for her own personal life.

She is aware of how cruel it is, she accepts and likes it.

Sure, some aspects she hates, she isn't really a huge enthusiastic fan of it. But she likes it enough to still apply it even when she is outside of the underdark, it shows in how she treats Gale or the other people who aren't companions.

Now a final thing to keep in mind.

Minthara adores us the most, as in us the player, not Tav, not Durge, not anyone. Doesn't matter who you end up picking or if you even pick an origin character, as long as you follow her questline, she admits to you being the person she admires the most.

That child is ours too, the player.

Because of that, we can never truly see Minthara as she really is. All of our view of her are wrapped and biased Because she is literally being her nicest self around us. We can only get glimpses of how cruel she is to strangers in stray conversations or throw away lines. Even if you have low approval with her, she still admires you the most.

She is a lawful evil character.

As in evil evil and not Astarion grey evil.

Astarion approves of bullying a child, Minthara approves of killing a child.

And that to me makes her a very compelling and interesting character, I love her dynamic and personality. Much like how I think Cazador is an amazing character because of how good he is at being a tool in a story about cycles of abuse. He more than fulfilled his role which makes him a great addition that shouldn't be changed, redeemed or watered down.

So about the child.

In Minthara's datamined lines, it is clear that she plans to enforce drow culture rules on her child no matter what.

They are abusive by nature, yes.

While some might think a son would have a much worse time than a daughter, I disagree.

While Minthara would resent having a son for how useless she deems males, at the end of the day he will meet her expectations of being a complete waste of space and pregnancy. Kept there for breeding for the bloodline.

But if a daughter doesn't meet her expectations? Do you realise the implications of that. Minthara a previous Baerne princess birthing a weakling of a female drow that can't even yell at someone without crying? Minthara would rain hellfire upon her.

It's more than a shame, a complete disgrace.

Her daughter is supposed to grow to be strong enough to kill her and take her place, that is the cycle of life.

Also about the child itself, you would still be the other parent.

The relationship with Minthara in the game can be controlling and possessive at times. And to remind you, that is the toned down version of her flaws because again, she adores us.

But i don't think it's far fetched for her to do most of the work when it comes to actually raising the kid, she likes to be in control.

Also side note, i have been only talking about her evil side and flaws so far and I wanted to remind you that she isn't just that. Her personality has so much more and there is depth and genuine love in her, it's something that we are also her first ever romantic love. And let's not forget on how she even encourages Gale in act 3 to leave Mystra. Minthara isn't a black or white character, she is a fully flushed out and filled with many complex concept tool.

She doesn't want to break the cycle of abuse, that's her major flaw. It's not something she seeks or even attempts to do. It's not even a debate to her, she simply acknowledges it and lets it be.

Her good ending is starting a new noble drow house with durge for fucks sake.

She cherry picks which areas she "breaks" from. Lolth worshipping for example, and she only extends respect and love to her companions. While the rest of the world gets the same treatment from her that they'd get from a typical drow Matron.

Okay note over, so proud of you for still reading btw, you're an excellent student. Have this imaginary star sticker on your brain.

I have so much to say about her that this post barely even scrapes the surface of what I think about her.

As long as you, the player, intervene and show her that parenting is both of your responsibilities, then I think you can really smooth down a lot of her sharp edges.

I mean the same argument could be said for Laeze, isn't training a child to fight at 12 also a form of abuse?

Not a single one of the companions is equipped to be a parent, not at their current states. Maybe Halsin tho, he has the best potential to be a parent stand in. Tho he has a major flaw of not realising that having too many kids means your attention will be spreadthin and that is a form of neglect abuse. Goodmeaning or not, he won't be a very good parent because he underestimates his capabilities in favour for naive optimism.

I've side tracked a lot ngl.

But yeah that's the jest of it, Minthara would be a shitty mom. Like it or hate it, it doesn't matter because she isn't real and she isn't a mom. She is a tool to tell a story about a shitty mom and she is succeeding at it.

#♡Minthara #♡character study #tw: themes of abuse discussed

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ex-textura · 30 days

Text

oh boy! Thank you @miradelletarot for the tag! This is going to be fun (once i decide who to do it with sdfasklfhjs)

I'm unsure who has done this one and who hasn't soooo.... if you see this, and want to, this is me tagging you!

BASICS

Full name: Ilztaufein (formerly of house Melarn, though he dropped that when he changed his name)

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: Bi, but he's got some...hangups about women.

Background: Noble

Class: Divination Wizard

OTHER

Birthplace: Ched Nasad

Profession: Information broker for Bregan D'aerthe

Phobias: Not really a phobia, but he has a hate for spiders.

Guilty pleasures: Does it count if he's not guilty about anything ever? He loves gossip and is really bad for sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. He also loves really bad smutty fiction.

Hobbies: Reading, studying, gossiping.

MORALS

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Sins: ahahahahaha. All of them!? ▫ He's prideful (he knows he's gorgeous and he knows he's powerful, even if maybe he thinks he's hotter shit than he actually is) ▫ He's greedy (power, people, fame, money. Whatever it is, he wants it) ▫ He's not the most wrathful but WHEN HE GETS HIS HANDS ON MYSTRA ISTG (also he's a big bitch about it) ▫ He's envious of the gods, for hoarding all their power. He's envious of drow women and their power over the underdark. He's envious of Mystra for still having literally ANY of Gale's attention EVER. ▫ Lust. I mean. The fantasies of Gale alone would be damning but when he finally gets his hands on his powerful little human oh my god. He's not terribly gluttonous or slothful but that's mostly on account of all the vanity.

Virtues: All that said, he's not evil. He helps people who need it, he works for the greater good at the end of the day. He gives freely of his time and knowledge (even if okay sometimes he bitches a little about having to go out of his way he's working on it okay?). He works hard, he studies and practices and hones his skills daily, he's fastidiously clean, he's absolutely loyal to a fault and he loves fully.

THIS OR THAT

Introvert / Extrovert

Organized / Disorganized

Close-minded / Open-minded

Calm / Anxious / Restless

Disagreeable / Agreeable / In between

Cautious / Reckless / In between

Patient / Impatient / In between

Outspoken / Reserved / In between

Leader / Follower / Flexible

Empathetic / Unempathetic / In between

Optimist / Pessimist / Realist

Traditional / Modern / In between

Hard-working / Lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

OTP: Ilztaufein/Gale (gotta come up with ship names)

Acceptable Ships: He's desperately loyal to Gale. He worships the ground he walks on. That said, he has slept with Astarion.

OT3: n/a

Brotp: Izzy and Astarion and two peas in a pod, even if Ilztaufein gives him so much shit for his red eyes and white hair ("Little faerie thinks he's a mighty drow how quaint~!").

Notp: Absolutely not Mystra, nor any followers of lolth.

BACKSTORY

Ilztaufein was born in Ched Nasad and spent the first half century of his life there before it fell to ruin. There he studied to be a wizard and took to divination magic like a fish to water. It was during his studies that he got a vision of the destruction of Ched Nasad, and so to save his own skin he quietly ran before he could be caught in the crossfire. He spent some time travelling the underdark, changing his name and hiding from settlements for fear of being found out and killed for his cowardice, until he came upon and was recruited into Bregan D'aerthe. Shortly after joining the mercenary group he ventured to the surface for the first time and was absolutely blown away by the different peoples and cultures he found there. He tentatively began to learn about Eilistraee, and though he never became a true devout follower it helped him come to terms with his animosity toward more lolth-leaning drow. He learned more surface languages, started enjoying their food and music, and eventually got himself a more permanent position gathering and trading information to and from the surface. That's when he was captured by the illithid; on the surface, haggling with a food vendor on the side of the road just outside Waterdeep.

At first, the abduction was a horrible inconvenience. He had work to do and no interest in making friends with a bunch of (scary powerful) women, a goody-two-shoes hero and some fop of a surface elf. At least there was the wizard, a kindred spirit who understood the importance of a strong mind and lively debate. And ambition.

#bg3 #my ocs #oc: ilztaufein #tag game

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stolen-wolfbread · 8 months

Text

I think the reason I like Astarion so much is because he's a LOT like Yuri Leclerc.

Spoilers for both BG3 and FE3H below the cut!

Obviously, they've both been forced to use their bodies as a means of survival and it's left them truamatized. They feel tainted by it, but try to hide behind a flamboyant and flirtatious façade.

They also are both used and objectified by their adoptive "fathers." Count Rowe and Cazador use their positions of power to manipulate and abuse Yuri and Astarion, respectively.

Luckily, they manage to escape, but they are constantly reminded that their opressors are never far behind. As such, they will do anything to keep from jeopardizing their freedom--even if it means dirtying their hands.

Lastly, they were both rescued while on the brink of death and we given the "gift" of immortality. While they never seem to grapple with this on-screen, the implication is that one day, they'll have to watch all of their friends and loved ones die.

The major difference between them, however, is that Yuri has not abandonned his humanity in the way that Astarion has. Yuri still has solid ties to others--his mother, his gang, and the Ashen Wolves.

Astarion has none of that. The closest he has to loved ones prior to meeting Tav would be his "siblings," and his bond with them is not particularly strong. Their relationship with Astarion is not defined by mutual affection, but by shared suffering.

The differing ways that Yuri and Astarion relate to the world is reflected in their actions. Yuri, for all his various crimes flaws, has a heart of gold. He sings to orphans, he created a refuge for people on the fringes of society, and he spared Bernadetta's life at the potential cost of his own.

Astarion, on the other hand, does not believe in helping others. While we don't know enough about his pre-vampire backstory to judge whether this is simply his personality or a coping mechanism he has developed, we do know that he only cares about himself. If Tav tries to assist others, Astarion frequently disapproves.

But Astarion can be influenced by Tav to do good. While he's probably never going to sing to orphans, Astarion does have the opportunity to spare all of Cazador's other spawn. He can even encourage them to build their own sanctuary in the Underdark, much like Yuri's Abyss.

Yuri and Astarion are such interesting and well-developed characters, and I think they're a (relatively) good depiction of abuse survivors. I really hate seeing them get misconstrued and slandered.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #tw abuse #tw prostitution #astarion #yuri leclerc #bg3 spoilers #fe3h spoilers #fe16 #astarion ancunin

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letters-from-dekarios · 2 days

Note

(Jasper is a snarky drow wild-magic sorcerer/multiclassed rogue. He was pretty careless about his magic until meeting Gale, and his solutions to things still mostly ends up being ‘is it worth lockpicking, or should we just explode it and run?’ He’s closed-off and snippy with people he doesn’t know, but longs for connection at heart. It just… takes a while to get there. He’s quite awkward when he’s actually being open with people. When the two of them are alone, it’s one of the few times Jasper actually is fully himself.

Jasper is illiterate; never learned to read, but ‘begrudgingly’ lets Gale teach him slowly after the events of the game. Still not great, but getting there. While they do live together, Jasper still takes trips to the Underdark every now and again. This letter was written during one of his times there.)

Gale, hello.

(The handwriting drastically changes. While the above line is practically intended into the paper, the rest is written in neat cursive.)

The rest of this letter is being transcribed by Astarion because I don’t feel like sending you something that could be mistaken for a toddler’s journal. Then again, that’s what your handwriting can look like sometimes if you’re tired enough, so maybe you’d find it readable anyway.

What do people even write in letters, anyway? Hello, dearest Gale of Waterdeep, how farest thou in my absence? Psh, he’d laugh at that. He’s cute when he- wait, don’t write that down- hey, give me the-

(There’s some illegible scribbling after that.)

Anyway, Gale. How are your bookshelves? They’re probably dusty. You should dust them.

Did you eat food today? It’s dinnertime. It won’t be when you get this, though, I guess. Hm.

Ok, seriously, what am I supposed to say? Astarion note: He rambled for about five minutes about the uselessness of letters and small talk, darling, I’m not writing all of this down. He misses you, you’re both pathetically in love, it’s absolutely sickening, get a room.

Oh, right. Some of the mushroom people myconids gave me some stuff to bring back to you. I didn’t really stay long enough to figure out exactly what it all is since the whole mind speaking thing makes me nauseous, but there’s some amulet and a couple scrolls.

I also have not blown anything up yet. On purpose. Two explosive surges happened. Whether that’s good or bad is up for debate. There aren’t any of the explodey mushrooms around where I’m staying.

Pet Tara for me.

And if you look like you’ve pulled even one all-nighter when I get back, I’m dragging you to bed. Put your books down and go to sleep, wizard.

~ Jasper

(The name is signed in the same poor handwriting as the greeting)

P.S. Hello. Astarion again, absolute pleasure. Next time, send a scribe with him if you want to be penpals, or I’m going to start charging.

Sweet Jasper,

And Astarion, by default.

No matter the transcriber, you know I adore hearing from you. I’d spend countless nights decoding your handwriting if it meant our communication stayed strong during your nights away. And, for the record, I’m glad you think I’m cute when I laugh. You’re rather adorable when you laugh, too.

I have cleaned the tower in your absence, but it’s quickly returned to dust-filled madness since beginning a new project of mine. No matter, though, it’ll be spotless by the time you return. You’ll be happy to know I’m eating just fine, and Tara can vouch for me on such. She’d have a field day if I didn’t stop and have a meal now and then, no matter how deep I was into a tome.

Thank the Myconids for me. Their scrolls have proved to be rather helpful lately. It’s always a joy to receive new items from them. And, I am glad to hear you’ve not yet blown anything, or anyone for that matter, up! I would hate to have another incident occur and use all of our resurrection spells again. Those are pricey and hard to come by nowadays. Stay strong, darling, I know how much you desire to set fire to things.

I cannot guarantee the state of myself when you return. I’m awfully invested in my current tomes and you know how much I hate losing my place. But I will try, dear.

Enough about me. How are you? I hope your time in the Underdark is serving you well. Have you found anything of interest? I’ll be more than delighted to hear all about your adventure when you return home. The nights grow cold without you by my side, love. But I know how much your journey means to you.

I hope you’re eating well, also. Sleeping just as much, too. Send word when you aim to return home, I’ll have everything ready for you.

Be safe, my love. I hope to hear from you again, soon.

With all my love,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

Astarion, I thank you for your hard work with Jasper. You know the depths of my coin pouch. Name your price, though not too substantial- I’m not made of money, after all. But, I’d much rather you than a stranger scribe for him.

text reads: gale dekarios

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spacebarbarianweird · 5 days

Note

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

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

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x M!Drow!Tav

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

You were spared though and given to serve Lolth.

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

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

You decide to run.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Astarion has one trait he hates to admit.

He enjoys taking care of others.

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

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

Well, he expected anything but not tears.

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

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

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

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

And somewhere Astarion can walk freely.

NSFW undercut

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

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

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

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

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

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

@tugoslovenka

@herstxrgirl

@herdarkestnightelegance

@vixstarria

@not-so-lost-after-all

@marcynomercy

@theearthsfinalconfession

@starlight-ipomoea

@micropoe10

@astarion-imagine-archive

@veillsar

@elora-the-slutty-songstress

@fayeriess

@lumienyx

@tallymonster

@caitlincat-95

@tragedybunny

@valeprati

@lynnlovesthestars

@marina-and-the-memes

@waking-eyes

@ayselluna

@connorsui

@asterordinary

@darkarchangel96

@locallegume

@brainfullofhotsauce

@coffeeanddonutscafe

@my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

@queenofthespacesquids

@ednaaa-04

@dajeong

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

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kmenkea · 7 months

Text

Bloodlust - Part 1

A/N: This is the first chapter of my Astarion Fanfic. It will mostly follow actual in game conversation, but I will expand on them greatly. The main reason I'm writing it is because I felt like there was a gap in all these stories: none of them had an explicitly evil or morally grey Tav. I like my anti-heros and I want to share this love to everyone.

Leeith is the character I'm playing (first run, still at act 2). I made up a whole backstory for her, so excuse me while I also try to develop her.

I have a plan of where things will go and I might keep writing even after the events of the game.

Other than that, feedback is very much appreciated. I tried to stay true to the companions personality, but it is hard to write characters which aren't my own. Hopefully it won't ruin your experience.

I will also try to add a quick doodle to each chapter.

The smut will come in like 2 chapters, but I did leave some breadcrumbs around.

There's lots of Gale hate because he insulted me and I never forgave him.

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: Leeith is quick to mistrust. Astarion seemed extremely suspicious that night. Fortunately, he was just thinking about their companions blood. The pair decides to take some time to themselves, away from the party.

Read on AO3

Leeith’s eyes were transfixed in the fire, chin resting on her knees to relax. The moon was high up in the sky, casting its light on the camp. They had set it up in a clearing, where a large rock stood in the middle, overseeing all the tents that had been put up around it. The place was quiet and green, covered on most sides by the mountains, except that for a little lake, which sang its song: calm waves caressing the shore. Some bedrolls were laying around the fire, for whoever preferred to sleep near the pit, rather than alone.

The drow was one of them: being in the centre of camp meant that it was going to be a lot harder for any threat to sneak up during the night and slit her throat without anyone noticing. Plus, she didn’t know how to put up a tent. It just looked horrible, barely able to ward off the wind and rain, giving free reign to the cold to bother her all night long. The underdark was much better, full of caves and alcoves to hide, with little rain to worry about. The only thing she would miss if she returned back home was the gentle light of the moon and all the stars.

The drow extended her hand out, testing the flexibility of her wrist: she had slipped in a puddle of mud and down a small cliff the day prior. In the fall the clothes had got torn apart, too damaged to repair even with magic, so Shadowheart had to part with one of her suits. It wasn’t too bad, and the drow was actually happy with the change: the dark cloth suited her better, bringing out the colour from her pale grey skin. Her hair was a black, grey and red mess, as if she was hit by one of her own eldritch blasts, but that was the norm for her. It was much easier to just take a dagger and shorten it whenever it was needed, than having to deal with braids and coils, just for it to look like a bird nest right after any fight.

The stinging pain returned when she flicked her wrist too fast: the bone wasn't broken, but the flesh still swelled up. That was her casting hand and the recoil from her blasts wasn't helping the recovery. Alas, she couldn't take the time to rest. Everyone relied on her planning and she certainly didn't trust anyone enough to go out without her present to keep track of everything.

Many of her companions were reliable fighters, above all Lae’zel, strong and able to perform all tasks with extraordinary efficiency. She respected her, even if she was hard to deal with at times: her arrogance came from mastery of her abilities, so it was righteous. Shadowheart was quiet, but didn’t seem the type to backstab anyone. The cleric had two motives: she wanted her mission to be over and the tadpole out of her brain, the best way to get both was to travel together. Then there was Wyll and Gale: the first seemed too much like an honourable hero with a heart of gold. The drow didn’t trust him one bit. Her methods were ruthless and often involved cruelty, so she would rather keep him occupied with other errands, than take the chance of him making a scene during a crucial moment. Gale, well, he was just an asshole and not the funny kind. His ego was inflated like that of a beholder, always spewing some bullshit about how great he was compared to everyone else. She didn’t feel like that at first, but his comment on her being just a lowly warlock, rather than a learned and mighty wizard like him, had hit just the wrong nerve. He was relegated to cannon fodder for now.

Which left her with one last person, reliable for sure, but something always felt off. More off than him being a blood-sucker spawn. Too nice, too perfect, too flirty. Just enough mistakes to make her believe that maybe that was his true self. Enough said about his past for her to know what she was dealing with and what his motives were: control the tadpole, kill Cazador, gain freedom. Commendable. And useful. Just as a spawn, Astarion already had an edge, a natural talent that only required a few drops of blood to kick in; a full vampire would have proved a most formidable ally. But only if it was governable.

As she laid there, analysing and planning, Astarion's eyes were darting around, pensively. He was trying to hide his face with the large book in his hands, staring at the words, before gazing back up again; in all this time the page had been turned maybe once or twice, so either he was reading a very difficult passage or, more likely, was just trying to conceal some plot that was forming in his head. A good few times Leeith caught him staring at her, but their eyes never met. She wanted to lull him in a sense of false security, so that the drow could learn what his intentions were and why he was checking everyone out.

Her patience though was wearing thin and Astarion seemed pretty content to stand there still. The elf’s sanguine gaze fell on her again, but this time, it was met. She could almost see her reflection in it: they shared the same eye colour, though for her kind it wasn't unheard of to have red irises. The vampire didn’t flinch, appearing nonchalant even after having been discovered with his hands right in the pie.

Leeith stood up, dusting some ash away from her bottom and walked over to him with a smirk.

"Astarion!" she started. "How are you doing this fine night? Is that book any fun? You seem extremely absorbed by it." Her arms followed her words theatrically, to end up crossing in front of her chest. Astarion closed the book, holding it below the armpit.

"There you are. Quite a fine and serene night, made all the better by your presence." He put the book on a nearby table.

"You're too gracious. I didn't know surface elves were still taught courtesy… or discretely ploying." He seemed unfazed, still observing her from under his brow. Leeith walked past him, to sit in one of the many pillows which adorned his tent, giving it a pretty cosy atmosphere. The bit of blood splatter around, she did not mind. The elf soon followed, remaining at arms distance.

"I was just thinking about you." He sighed and shook his head with grace, the curls falling barely out of place. "And about that delicious moment we shared the other night." Leeith didn't even need the gestures towards her neck to understand what he was talking about. This had yet to explain why he was studying everyone, but she was starting to get a hitch of the reason.

"The moment when you bit me?" She decided to still play along.

"The very same." He nodded with a smile that looked genuine. For just a moment, his gaze fell down at the ground, absorbed in thought. His expression changed and though it still held a smile, it was also a lot more serious. For a moment more, no words were uttered, so that the only thing they heard was the lake and the crackling fire. His hands fiddled together for a split second, in search of the right words

"I've had this… condition for two hundred years. But, truth be told? You were my first." Those last few words were quiet, almost a whisper, but a smirk still lingered on his lips. The drow raised an eyebrow, harbouring disbelief and a slight weird sense of pride, if what he said was true. She didn’t get to rebut with anything, that his face returned jolly and his eyes skimmed over everyone once again, studying them and thinking gods-know-what in that wretched mind.

"In all these years I've only fed on beasts. Drinking the blood of thinking creatures is a different thing entirely." The vampire leaned closer, barely able to contain his hunger. "You were delectable." He purred, gently tracing Leeith’s neck, where two dark punctures were still more than visible. Leeith flinched at the unexpected touch, suddenly aware of how close they were laying. Astarion moved back, amused and excited, happy almost. "And now, I can't help but wonder how the others taste!" He laughed, gesturing towards the camp. Leeith holstered the imaginary dagger she was holding, grateful she didn't have to deal with a traitor. The smile returned to her lips, as she dropped her defences.

"Are you looking at other necks? I'm hurt!" Every word was filled with fake indignation. "I really thought we had something special, instead here you are, traitor, after I took your bit-rginity… that sounded better in my head." Astarion chuckled, if at her or at her pun she couldn't tell.

“Don’t worry, there’s enough of me to go around. I’m a man of tremendous appetites!” He placed a finger over his lip in thought. “Not that I think they’d volunteer, of course, but it doesn’t make me any less curious” He rested his weight on his elbow stretching his legs out. She did the same, propping her head up with one hand. Most men and women here on the surface looked so plain, with their brown hair and brown eyes. Even those with some special characteristics, like the devils, had little that interested her. But the vampire was different, skin and hair so fair they glimmered in the light and eyes red like her own, that spoke of subtle blood and violence. It was the charm of bloodlust that made him so attractive in her eyes, of stopping at nothing to survive and thrive, but revelling in the chaos caused, not be ashamed of the cruelty. More than once Leeith needed to defend the vampire from their travelling companions, especially the morning after being bitten. Truth be told, Astarion seemed more than ready to suck her dry that night. It made sense now: after two hundred years of wandering in the desert, thirsty and with rocks and knives thrown at him, the pale elf had found a source of clear water.

"Take Gale for example," the voice shook her awake from the vision of them laughing from high atop a mountain of corpses. "He strikes me as someone whose blood is rich, refined, like a well aged brandy.” Astarion twirled an imaginary glass. “But the Gith? What in the hell would she taste like?” The elf looked up, catching the drow’s eyes.

“Surely something exotic, like an Amnan liqueur.” Discussing the taste of blood wasn’t in tonight’s plan, but they were both having fun.

“Ohh! That sounds very appealing. I’m almost convinced.” She didn’t know if the other’s could listen and, frankly, she didn’t care. For the first time since leaving the underdark, the drow had met someone that did understand her. Being labelled as a mindless monster, just because he had been cursed to be a spawn, isolated him. Leeith too was always labelled as a low-life murderer because of her lineage, but she enjoyed the fear she’d strike in those below her.

“Could I convince you to kill someone less useful?” She raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

“No one is getting killed, I swear. We’re just- two friends talking.” He waved his hands between them. “So - in the spirit of theoretical questions - if you had to take a bite from one of them, who would it be?” He got closer, raising his eyebrow. For once he sounded actually happy, not just cheeky and overconfident. Leeith pondered, staring up at the stars. She glanced at him, noticing how his hair captured the colour of the moon and the light of the fire.

“You, of course.” His eyes opened up and he couldn’t hide a grin.

“Oh! I’m flattered. Who knew you had such taste.” His ego kicked in again.

“That… and the fact my blood doesn’t come free. It’s only fair I get a taste of you, after I shared my own.” Leeith reached up for his neck and, like he had done previously, caressed his scars. The feeling of cold skin was strange, even if she had lingered only an instant.

“Of course. It was a gift. One I do intend to repay.” His voice was much lower now, returning to his flirtatious attitude.

“All this talk made me realise I would love to get treated to a bottle of fine wine.” Leeith sighed. “You surface dwellers really do have much sweeter wines than the sour water we get downstairs.” Her gaze returned to Astarion, but wasn’t met. He was sitting back up again.

“Unfortunately, it will have to wait. All this talk is getting me hungry. I’d better find something I can actually sink my teeth into.” The vampire looked ready to be back on his feet.

A thought crossed her mind. Should she act upon it? It seemed like the perfect time and, truth be told, she was starting to get a soft spot for the elf. Laying there on those pillows, she moved her hair away from the neck, freeing her scars.

“And where would you go? Am I not delectable anymore?” She grinned, raising her arms above her head. “Unless of course you have acquired a taste for goblin.”

“Oh- well.” He fumbled, surprised by the offer. “Of course. I didn’t expect you enjoyed it enough to offer yourself again.” His cocky tone would have almost sounded perfect, if it wasn’t for the fact he didn’t move. He was stuck sitting there, waiting for something; a question still lingered on his tongue. Yet still, he couldn't help lick his teeth and lips.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much.” Leeith was tense, but still tried to keep a calm demeanour. “As you said in the past, I need you strong. If a bit of my blood is enough, then you can have it. I trust you won’t go overboard this time.” Astarion looked around camp. A few too many glances were being thrown in their direction, even the dog seemed to stop sniffing around just to focus on them. Leeith noticed too.

“Should we wait ‘till after dark?” His tone was hushed, but it didn’t mask his excitement.

“If it’s more comfortable for you not to have eyes on you, sure. In my opinion, it’s their fault for not looking away.” She giggled and stood up, stretching her back. “Well, I’ll go eat something more myself. Have a fun time with your book.”

Leeith returned to the fire, calling Scratch to her.

Not much time passed before everyone said their good nights to one another. Leeith spent the time studying a map of the region, thinking of ways to best ration their food during the following days of travel. The light kept getting dimmer in the fire, so she'd just chuck another log in. Scratch was sleeping beside her, shaking his paws at times. She glanced at Astarion's tent: the elf had the flap pulled down, but she could sense movement inside. They were the only two souls awake in the camp. He didn't need much sleep; she didn't feel the need to either, but her body was still weary and hurt in places. She wanted the day to be over and finally rest. The map was folded and put back in the backpack, then she walked to Astarion. The drow knocked on the floor and whispered his name. It didn't take long for him to appear.

"Yes, darling?" He was shirtless. Leeith took her time to respond, not really knowing how to ask. "Did the cat get your tongue?" Something metallic caught a ray of light. A moment later it was gone from his hands.

"I- well, are you still hungry? I am pretty tired, I kind of want to be done with today." She motioned at her bandaged wrist.

"Mh, I didn't think you were this impatient." Astarion made his voice deep, glancing at her with a seductive grin. "Well if you can't wait I'll find a boar or rabbit to snack on. Don't need to miss your beauty sleep for me." He disappeared back into the tent, but Leeith followed him.

"I can wait, just need an estimate." Sprawled on the floor there were a few bottles of blood, some empty, some full. At least the drow didn't have to ration the food for him, since he could provide for himself. More weirdly though, she also saw a pair of scissors, some thread and a small metal box full of pins. His white shirt was laying on the ground, the collar ripped off.

"I know you aren't a vampire, but you could have still asked before entering." He barked, annoyed at this invasion. The elf picked up the shirt and began to pin and sew the collar back on.

"Well, it's not like you're doing anything weird here. I didn't know you liked sewing… you could have fixed up my clothes instead of forcing me to borrow Shadowheart's!"

"I'm afraid your clothing was beyond repair even before it got torn apart. If anything that might have helped make it look better."

"Tks, I'll show you what true luxurious clothing is like; the underdark has the best spider silks imaginable, they feel like water around your body. You surface dwellers know nothing."

"And yet none of your ancestral fashion knowledge got to you, did it?" Replayed him. Leeith crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. If he was any other person, he would have already been made into a fine mist of gore, but his tone was too sarcastic for her to take it seriously.

"I'm done." he said at last, donning his shirt back on. "After you, darling." He pointed to the outside. The drow crawled away, soon followed by tonight's companion. Astarion stepped in front of her and, after making certain no one was around, directed her through a small hidden path. He was more than excited: she could see it in the way his hands trembled, his eyes flickered eagerly towards her, to make sure she was still following. Leeith caught him licking his lips once, the phantom sweetness of her blood still lingered on them.

Finally they got to a small river, with little flowers growing everywhere. It wasn't any random spot, the elf had put thought on where to lead her. Did he think a cute flower bed would have made her more trusting? Or was he just a romantic, wanting the moment to feel special for him? Not that it mattered. He didn't even need to set up a trap since the drow had offered herself.

"So?" She sat down, crossing her legs and looking up at the man. He soon followed, landing at her side, closer that he had ever been. She expected warmth to come from him, but again, nothing but cold dead flesh.

"So? Want to admire the stars before I go?" He teased, brushing her hair away from her neck. His hand fell on it, caressing it. His skin was soft and cared for, unlikely for a warrior. It smelled of fancy cologne and fabric soap.

"Maybe I will, Astarion. You don't seem that hungry after all." Leeith stretched her legs out, then lowered her head to the ground. Her eyes did search for the moon, but it was hidden among the clouds and leaves above her. Finally she shut them, bracing herself for the bite.

"What do you gain out of this? Why are you doing it?" He blurted out, not having moved an inch. His eyes were still bloodshot, but he was controlling himself. Leeith was puzzled.

"Nothing really. Why are you asking?" She lifted one of her eyebrows and rested her weight back in her elbows.

"You said it yourself, I'm borrowing your blood and you want something in return. What is that?"

"Well, I suppose it's true I never do anything for free, but I don't know. I wasn't actually expecting anything back. Again, you can treat me to a bottle of wine if you want, but otherwise, I'll be fine. It's just some blood, a good night's rest will take care of it."

"So, is this just… out of the goodness of your heart?" The way his voice got higher, it almost made him sound offended.

"Oh yes, Astarion. When the gods were handing out goodness, I skipped everything regarding not murdering people or threatening them, and grabbed bucketfuls of selfless vampire feeding acts. My soul aches for all the poor little starving vampires of this world." She placed a hand over her heart. His expression was undecipherable, a mix between confusion and indignation.

"Relax, Astarion." Leeith sighed and dropped the act, understanding his displeasure. "I don't know why I'm doing it, but it does help you, doesn't it? I see the way you fight and act after being able to eat something proper. It's a completely different you. A better you. I need that."

"Is this it?" He was still unsure. Was this it? Not even Leeith could tell. There wasn't a reason to give herself out like that. He was a perfectly good assassin even when hungry. The only ulterior motive was gaining his favour, so he’d still be on her side once killing and drinking Cazador. Not that she was going to tell him that. She scrolled her shoulders.

"Guess so." At that answer, he smirked again, returning to his old bastard self.

"Shall we make ourselves comfortable?" The vampire guided her down, supporting her head all the way. His body shifted over hers, putting his weight on his knees. For a moment, Leeith hoped his fingers would caress her stomach and move upwards to her ribs or down to her thighs. That didn't happen. Astarion just used his other hand to keep himself hovering above her. The drow closed her eyes and exposed her neck. A sharp pain followed. She whimpered and gripped his shoulders tight, clenching her jaw almost enough to break some teeth. Then the pain faded, substituted by a dull humming above her shoulder, in rhythm with her heartbeat. Astarion's tongue lapped at her skin.

"Easy now." He murmured, still with his lips on her. Was it just a thought he had? Leeith swore she could sense herself in his mind and him inside her. A similar feeling to the tadpole, but more fuzzy, deep into the recesses of their soul. The drow smiled, feeling his bliss as hers, the excitement of blood awakening something in them. For the first time, his body felt warm, alive, as he kept clinging to her sweet, sweet life. The elf was on edge. He didn't want this to finish, it felt better than any sex or drug or wine he's ever had. Just a moment more, just one more drop. Leeith’s mind was well and alive, shaking in shared joy. He needed this more than gold; he needed her to stay, to defend him from others. He couldn’t let the drow grow bored of him. As long as she trusted him, he wouldn’t have had to worry about monster hunters or Cazador’s goons; the warlock would have scared them off and, failing that, she was more than capable of crushing their bones. Her body was warm like the sun under him; He was going to cling to it for as long as he could.

The cold arrived too soon. The connection broke for an instant, as the drow below him got weaker. A wake up call.

He lifted his head up and almost felt like he needed to catch his breath, but his lungs were still dead. The vampire admired the wound on her neck: he had done a perfect job, with very little blood running off. They shared a glance as he went down on it again, just licking the few droplets on her shoulder.

Leeith tested the wound with one hand once he sat up. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't bleeding a lot. She undid the bandage on her wrist and used that to pat her neck dry. Astarion, by her side still, was brimming. His eyes were alive and shining like rubies, a faint smile was on his lips and he seemed not to have noticed that a drop of blood was about to fall down from his chin to his prized shirt. They sat in silence for a few minutes. The drow was the first to break it.

"So your hobby is sewing." She noted.

"I would call it less a hobby and more a useful skill. It's not like Cazador would give me his hand-me-downs." He spat, bile raising from inside of him.

"You're free now. You could buy anything you want."

"I quite like my clothes. And besides, where should I get anything? Maybe if we were in Baldur's gate I’d think about it, but here I could at best cover myself with twigs like those druids."

"Uhh… you wouldn't look too bad covered in fig leaves. I'm sure you'll find a way to make it work."

"Just because you want to see me nude, doesn't mean I'll concede myself to you so easily."

"Alright then, no more blood until I see you dressed with just one leaf." She wanted to sound serious, but the look on his face was worrying. Did he actually understand sarcasm?

"Hey, I'm still joking. No need to look at me like that."

"That reassures me. The thought of bedding a drow wasn't a pleasant one."

"Hey what?!" For once she was actually offended.

"Canings, ties, gags, whatever spiked torture device you have in your caves to get you off. Are you sure you are having sex down there, or just trying to eviscerate each other?"

"Well first and foremost, the "device" is called a spike cross and you aren't actually supposed to get off on that. Second, not my fault you surface elves are more sensitive than a babe. And third," she moved her lips close to his ear, whispering seductively. "I'll be gentle your first time, you'll still be able to sit the next day." She smirked, but couldn't hold in a chuckle.

"Is it true your men are slaves?" He asked all of a sudden.

"It depends. Most commoners, like me, have left the practice behind. Not that I wouldn't enjoy having a slave or two, but you know, either they consent or I buy one. Now, the matriarchs, they still cling to the old ways. In any case, most say it's not as bad as it was a few centuries ago. This doesn’t change the fact all men are unworthy and unclean in the Spider’s Queen eyes and her followers… like me, but I won’t chain you up unless you request me." She shrugged. Astarion was lost. His face was turned towards her, but his eyes were looking somewhere far. In that moment, Leeith remembered all that he had to go through, between the torture and the servitude.

"Hey," she placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "That won't happen anymore, alright. You're free now. Nothing can take that away and if they try, you aren't alone. I'll personally go into Cazador's lair and open all of his curtains, while you stand above his ashes. The sun will burn him, while you will be free." He shook his head.

"A naïve and puerile fantasy… but thank you. Shall we go? You said you were tired and don't think blood loss made you any stronger." He offered his hand and she took it. Even with that, standing up was not an easy task when her world kept spinning and going dark at the edges, but she managed.

"Lolth be graced, no one tells you the downsides of being a blood bag when you pick up this job." She joked, as they both walked back to camp.

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