#spawn tav
Text
The Life of Astarion's Dark Consort
Summary: These are my random head canons about Ascended Astarion and his vampiric bride, Tav/Durge. What would it be like to actually spend eternity with him?
Warning: 18+, mention of sex.
After the ascension, Astarion is so overwhelmed with all his new abilities that he is a bit distant. (Think Lazslo Cravensworth in that one episode of WWDITS where he barely speaks for two weeks all because he’s trying to make a decision about how he is going to reorganize the library) This lasts for nearly a decade, but once Astarion adjusts to his new body, he is able to come back to himself.
Once you are Astarion’s spawn (bride), he no longer needs to mask when lovemaking. He knows you will never leave him. Your lovemaking goes through many 'phases', from being loving and tender to beastly and rough. But either way, he is raw with you, and only you.
Every night, without fail, your vampire curls up in your arms, holding you tightly as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep or reverie. He can’t fall asleep without being in your arms, or vice versa.
You, his most prized treasure, are far too vulnerable during your rest, and he insists on being as close to you as possible, with a dagger close by, of course. Over the years, he never relents. If you two are ever apart, which happens so rarely, maybe once a millenia, he spends the night sleepless and aching for you.
One of the first things he does once the tadpole is gone is hunt down Haarlep, if you made a deal with him. He wouldn’t allow his treasure to be violated and used any longer.
Astarion’s possessive love for you only grows as the years creep on.
Sometime during your third century of marriage, Astarion stabs the eyes out of (and allegedly kills) dozens of men and women who he deigned to have violated you (and thus, disrespected him) by looking at you lustfully. It takes two decades of you begging him to stop before he finally relents.
Ask me anything, and it will be yours. On his own time, of course, which you have so much of. You become a very patient vampire.
Astarion certainly values your life and his, but not others. You have to remind him, lest he lose his humanity completely. And you, as well, have to make sure you have a tight hold on your own humanity. You are a vampire, after all.
Watching your friends pass one by one is difficult, and Astarion supports you through it all, despite him not particularly caring about them himself. He cares about his consort, and he does everything to make you comfortable while you grieve. This is where your humanity starts to slip, when your friends are gone from your life for many years.
If you are able to reverie, you aren’t able to actually look through your memories because of your undeath. The years stretch on so long, you nearly forget how the story began at all. But you always have Astarion, and he does his best to help you both remember.
Astarion never takes another consort or another independent lover. The two of you enjoy threesomes and orgies occasionally, but Astarion prefers it to be just you and him. Astarion did particularly like to watch you get fucked by other men and women. But this changes sometime during your first century of marriage. Astarion demands to have his consort and only his consort in the bedroom. He ultimately doesn’t trust anyone else to be intimate with him. He doesn't want anyone else to touch him. You don’t protest the decision.
Astarion creates regular vampire spawn, more for utility than anything else. He always asks your permission.
After a thousand years, you and your Lord are inseparable. You are not to leave his sight.
He is very powerful, and has become a threat and a target. The two of you rarely speak aloud anymore as your mind connection is so strong that your minds are melded together. Your relationship is beyond spoken word. As Bride and Master, you are unsure where you begin and he ends.
Eternity is a very long time. Astarion agrees, but he never wants to die, and he certainly will never let you go.
In your old vampiric age, the two of you strike fear into every mortal you come across. You can't help it. You are both so hauntingly beautiful and pale, and your intense mind connection makes most mortals believe you to be...absent. Oh, how the sheep forget themselves.
Yet your need for blood is so small now. They needn't fear you, not really. You now only drink from Astarion, which gives you what you need. He loves it, being your life essence.
He doesn't let you drink too much, of course. During your fifth century of marriage, Astarion wants you to feed on him and only on him, as his contempt for others grows and his possessive love for you begins to cause him his own bout of madness.
This causes you to go mad, and Astarion is entirely distraught until you are healed. He spends an extravagant amount of money and a long time healing you.
With the last of your friends dead, you forget to view the mortals as anything but the puppets of your Master. The ways of the world as you knew it slip by you. There is a war, Astarion tells you, but you have no fear. You know he will protect you.
You often go into a vampiric hibernation as you sit on your throne during court. Astarion is still able to put on the mask, but you cannot. Astarion wishes you would try harder, but he also understands.
Even after so many years, Astarion’s body craves you. You are certain you are addicted to each other. You wonder if it is a result of your vampiric marriage.
He pleasures you every night, and you pleasure him; you cannot remember what sex was like before your undeath, but you know that nothing feels as good as when Astarion makes you come.
Halsin is the last of your old friends that you can remember, as he lives to be nearly a thousand. You do your best to remember his face, but it slowly starts to slip away from you.
You feel sad about these things, at times. Astarion cradles you, both your body and your mind, and tries to assure you of your gift. Eternity.
Part 2!!
Masterlist
#ascended astarion#Astarion headcanons#my hcs#spawn tav#Astarion bg3#Lord Astarion#Ascendant Astarion#astarion x you#astarion x reader#ascended!astarion
796 notes
·
View notes
Text
twitter is going crazy for this bat
#astarion#ascended astarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3#spawn tav#vampire spawn tav#bat#fanart#doodle#art#artist#clip studio paint#fan art#artist of tumblr#oc#lawv no#neith#neith thalassea
540 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Consort ₊⁺જ⁀➴
NSWF | Explicit 18+ | Angst | Blood | Ascended Astarion | Spawn Tav | Dark | Smut | Trauma | Stockholm Syndrome | Violence
Ascended Astarion x fem Tav
Chapter: 1 | The Consort
Summary: In a tumultuous tale of love, power, and betrayal, Tav finds herself entangled in a complex relationship with Astarion, a heartless vampire lord who will stop at nothing to maintain control over his newfound spawn. As Tav witnesses Astarion’s transformation and descent into darkness, their love is put to the ultimate test amidst love triangles, drama, and the pursuit of world domination. Redemption seems like an elusive goal while Tav grapples with the realization of who her lover has truly become.
UPDATED EVERY MONDAY.
Notes: Hi, hi ! New series cause Astarion is heavy on my mind. I’ve been writing this on the low so I’m posting the 1st two chapters today so enjoy :*
AO3 LINK | MASTER LIST
Lovely photo by @aristenfromwarsaw
Tav sat against the window of a palace, her eyes fixed on the bustling street below. She hummed a tune so sweet to herself, the laughter of children playing echoed through the glass, and she hugged herself in this peaceful solitude.
Tav's fingers grazed softly over the bite marks that scarred her skin.
Astarion.
Her lover, her home, and ultimately Tav's only reason why she couldn't step foot in the sun any longer.
Being Astarion's spawn changed Tav's life instantly, and everything felt so - silent.
This was her love, and she'd almost do anything for him, including going threw the ascension.
And because of this, Astarion was always gone during the day, and it was so unfair.
Memories flooded her mind as she gazed at the sunlight streaming in. She remembered the warmth of the sun on her skin, the way it kissed her cheeks.
A ray of sunlight pierced through the window, illuminating a small patch of floor near Tav.
Sunlight.
What it would feel like to just...touch it. Would it really hurt? Maybe Tav could be the exception some how? Either way, the curiosity inside Tav chewed at her better judgment.
Tav bit down on her lower lip, whispering, "Just a - touch..."
With a hiss, the beam sizzled her skin, leaving behind a faint burn that quickly healed before her eyes.
“Ouch,” Tav winced and pulled back her hand with glossy eyes.
She watched as the mark faded away, leaving no trace of burns. That's it, no more daylight: this was Tav's sacrifice to Astarion.
As she leaned back against the window, Tav’s gaze lingered on the street below once more. She sighed and played with her hair.
They were so carefree and happy. She wished she could be like them again. Changing into animal form and feeling the warm grass beneath her feet. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Tav couldn’t not let her vampirism control her. She would find a way to live a normal life again.
Especially with Astarion at her side.
Astarion burst through the door, shouting, "Darling, I've got great news! I- " He stopped mid-sentence, his words trailed off as he noticed Tav suddenly jump away from the window.
She nervously smiled and waved at him, with a hint of unease. “Hi, Star… How was your morning?”
Astarion’s gaze lingered on Tav’s face and then shifted to her reddened hand. Whatta trouble maker. He shook his head and sighed annoyed while grabbing her hand, forcing it for closer inspection. “Were you playing with the light again, dearest?”
Tav murmured slightly, feeling a pang of shame knowing how much Astarion hated when Tav tested her new form.
It was dangerous and foolish of her to push limits with her life. Astarion claimed she was better than before and that she should accept his gift to her.
“Must you continue to do this to yourself? Remember, you’re better now. I made you this way; learn to love it, my consort,” he rubbed his thumb over Tav's knuckles. Despite his stern words, a soft smile graced his lips as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Tav’s forehead.
"I just can't help it." Tav turned her head to the window, "It still doesn't feel real." She looked back at Astarion with confusion etched deeply in her furrowed brows, "It's like I don't believe it's real until I get myself hurt."
Astarion stared at her, confused and maybe even a little weirded out. "Riiight - well, please don't take it too far, I wouldn't want you to crisp into a chip right in front of my eyes." He grabbed Tav by the waist and gave her hugs and squishes.
Tav chuckled against his hold and bombard of kisses.
“And I trust you haven’t been practicing your wild forms in the house, dear?” He glared down at Tav with a sternness again.
Astarion did not accept animals in the house, not even for poor Druid Tav.
Tav smiled. “Noo…”
Lie.
Astarion's eyes glared down at her longer than usual. "Mhm. Do you want to try that again, Tav?"
She averted her eyes from his, “If I could just get some time to practice…I almost perfected my panther form!” Her eyes lit up with determination. If only she could just show him. It was quite impressive.
But no, shut down.
He scuffed with a slight squeeze of her body, “There will be no need for a panther form. I carry all this power and it’s all you need to depend on. Besides, I found animal fur on the carpet the other day.”
Oh, right.
Tav half-giggled against Astarion’s strength and pushed away with a smug look on her face, "Soo, what's the good news?"
"Ah, yes." He fixed himself before speaking while putting some distance between them, "I've been invited to Waterdeep, a party. I want to make connections with the nobles near us. I think it's a good opportunity to sniff out whatever advantages present themselves to us. Gossip and have fun of course."
Tav's eyes lit up and she clasped her hands together, "A ball?!" She took in a sharp breath, "It's been deathly boring here, I would love to get out and see new faces."
Being a spawn could be so sheltering sometimes, especially when Astarion kept her on such a tight leash. Not that she minded his attention, that was the plus.
Astarion rolled his eyes, "Of course, you're coming." He popped out a hip and with a smirk, "You are my lovely consort after all." He leaned over and brushed away a strand of Tav's hair, fixing it perfectly in place, "And you will put all those Waterdeep prissy noble-women to shame."
Finally, something to look forward to.
"You think so?" Tav bit down on her lower lip, flashing him playful eyes. Tav stepped closer to Astarion again, resting her hand on his chest and sliding his down to his stomach gracefully.
Astarion mirrored Tav's gesture and his fingers grazed over her hips, holding a hand full of her love handles, "I don't think. I know."
She smiled at his touch, and a sudden yawn escaped Tav's lips.
Astarion's ears perked up, "Tired are we?"
She rubbed her eyes and nodded softly, "Yeah...I'm still getting used to this whole nocturnal schedule." Tav tilted her head, "But I wanted to see you before I went to bed."
With one swipe, Astarion scooped Tav into his arms, "You'll see me for eternity." His crimson eyes fell on Tav as he craddled her in his arms, "My spawn."
Her stomach knotted. Did she really like being a spawn? Well...No. But she would definitely try to for Astarion. They were in this for life. Tav tries to find life's simple pleasures, but it's hard leaving a life she once had.
Regardless, she'd never admit it to Astarion. Tav didn't want him to think she was regretful or doubtful. Even if she felt like it deep down. He mustn't know. Tav loves Astarion. After all, he said he wanted this power to protect them.
Astarion held Tav bridal style and brought her into their bedroom. The king-sized bed was draped in red silk fabric, and he poured her onto the mattress like the rarest of jewels.
And to her surprise, Astarion crawled into the bed next to her, holding her body tight against his. He nuzzled against her neck, his breath warm against her skin, and it sent shivers down her spine.
He was unusually cuddly than most days.
"Are you okay?" Tav spoke out. This wasn't normal behavior, not after he ascended at least.
"Nothing." His eyes were cold and emotionless but the squeeze in his embrace contradicted that. "I'll stay until you fall asleep." He softly kissed the tips of her ears.
Oh...how sweet.
Tav smiled, her heart aflutter as she nestled into the soft pillows. Astarion held close and watched over Tav as her eyelashes fluttered closed.
She was so emotionally fragile lately, especially with her little accidents. It worried him when he wasn't home more than he'd ever tell her.
No, don't feel bad. She's made her choice.
Astarion's inner thoughts battled within himself. Mostly because Tav consumed his mind and thoughts, even when trying to engage in any political social climbing. Part of him despised how weak he was for her.
But for now...This feels nice.
Next part here
You made it to the end! Mwuah.
Also so sorry if this series triggers anyone
Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!
#The Consort#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3 tav#bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion bg3#astarion acunin#astarion x tav#astarion angst#astarion fanfic#astarion smut#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion#ascended astarion#spawn tav#astarion series#Spotify
157 notes
·
View notes
Text
[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant] (3)
Pairing: Astarion (s) x Tav
Plot: We get a look at Ascended Astarion and M! Tav's complicated past. Meanwhile in F!Tav's world, she has a close call with The Vampire Ascendant himself all the while Spawn Astarion and Karlach prepare to attack the Crimson palace.
Content/Warnings: MDNI, THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER! M/m smut, oral and anal sex, I'll put some little red diving lines so you can skip it because it's not TOO important to the plot, but I just thought since y'all have been waiting forever for the next part I might as well treat you. Both a male and female Tav, alternate timeline shenanigans, Ascended Astarion is a toxic asshole as usual, emotional manipulation, verbal abuse, threats, etc, slight choking, there's also a lot of blood and gore in this part, lots of violence and action.
Part One
Part Two
Part Four
The Spawn Vs Tav Vs The Ascendant
[Savegame 2: Somewhere, A year post game]
Tav let out a sigh as he felt a cool breeze hit his face, the scent of the forest washing over his heightened senses. He could smell the blood of a deer who was leaping through the grass. He turned his head to look at it, tongue flicking over his newfound fangs. It had only been a year since his undeath, but everything had already changed so much.
The young vampire had finally convinced his master to allow him to travel outside of Baldur's Gate. Tav needed to get away from the city so he could enjoy the comforts of nature once again even though many of his fellow druids would sneer at what he'd become. An undead abomination. He was able to convince The Vampire Ascendant to allow him to leave their city, insisting that this would be a romantic getaway for the two of them.
They had left Baldur's Gate and used the fortune they acquired to purchase a lovely little holiday home on an island off the Sword Coast.
Their villa sat on the border of the ocean shore and the luscious woodlands that stood behind it.
Tav sat crisscrossed in the sand, the warmth of the sun danced up on his skin. He was quite fortunate to still be able to enjoy it, given what he was.
“Little Love, what are you doing out here alone?” His master's voice purred out.
“Just enjoying the peace.” Tav replied calmly. He didn't feel like looking his master in the eyes. Things had been distant between them now. Tav did his best to try and keep Astarion from turning Baldur's Gate into a slaughterhouse, but occasionally he slipped up, like with the incident at Sharess's Caress.
There were so many days he wished he could just go back and convince his love not to go through with the ritual. Then maybe the warmth they once shared wouldn't have gone out. But he'd been terrified at the time. They both had. Astarion was afraid of losing his freedom. And Tav was afraid so desperately afraid of losing him. If only he'd known he would have lost him anyway.
Now Astarion was the worst version of himself, all of his darkness let loose for the entire world to see. And Tav was merely a plaything that he refused to give up. The vampling’s red eyes blinked as his master’s clawed finger tilted his chin up to look at him.
“Pet, you know I don't like when you avoid me. It makes me so very unhappy.” The Ascendant pouted, making a painfully fake sad face. It made Tav’s blood boil. Tav jerked his head away from his master's touch.
“I am at your side day and night. You sit me on your lap every day like a glorified pup for all your guests to see. Am I not even entitled to my own space just for a moment!?” Tav suddenly snapped, fangs bared as he narrowed his eyes.
“You're the one who suggested this ‘romantic getaway’ and now you have the audacity to accuse me of not giving you space!? How dare you! You ungrateful little wretch!” Astarion snarled at him. “If you want your fucking space so badly I can arrange a nice dark cell for you back at the palace.” His master threatened.
“No….I-I…Please….I'm sorry!” Tav's face suddenly filled with fear. “….I'm sorry…. I'm sorry…I'm sorry…” Tav grabbed hold of Astarion’s leg, his head hung as he begged. Astarion glared down at him, his expression unimpressed.
“You will make this up to me.” Astarion tilted Tav’s chin back up.
“Yes. I will….I promise…” Tav nodded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Appeasing his master had become a regular routine of Tav's. He pretty much had it down to a science. Beg, grovel, flatter, pleasure, usually one or a combination of them would do the trick to calm the beast. Funny how Astarion seemingly had no regrets about turning Tav into the very thing he despised being for so many years.
The only saving grace was Astarion was far too possessive to share Tav’s body with anyone else.
“I love you Tav. I can't fathom why you're determined to make things so difficult between us.” Astarion pushed Tav down on the bed with one hand. The spawn frowned. His master's words felt empty despite how much Astarion may have believed them himself; there was little proof to back them up. Tav removed his shirt, deciding it would be best to just give in and lose himself in pleasure if only for a little while. He slid down his trousers and drawers, completely exposing himself in front of the other male.
Astarion lifted his own shirt up and over his head before discarding it to the side. He then climbed onto the bed and slowly straddled his spawn. He leaned down, getting very close.
“Kiss me.” He ordered. Tav leaned up and pressed his lips against Astarion's, wrapped his arms around his neck as his master began to grind himself against Tav's unclothed groin.
Tav moaned against Astarion's lips, letting the vampire lord slip his tongue inside. Astarion tastes Tav’s mouth, the flavors of wine and blood intertwining as their tongues dance. Astarion pulls back and pins Tav’s wrists above his head before slowly shifting down and licking the spawn’s nipples.
“A-Astarion!” Tav let out a whine, feeling the elven male teasing his sensitive buds, grazing them with his fangs all the while grinding himself down against Tav's hardening member. Astarion began to nibble and suck his way down Tav's body leaving a trail of bright red hickies as he went.
Astarion moved back, hand grasping Tav's cock as he licked his lips, looking down at his pet’s leaking tip.
“So hard for me already?~” Astarion teased gently, squeezing Tav’s length as he pumped it back and forth in his hand.
“Ngh!” Tav groaned and dug his claws into the bed. Astarion leaned down to lick up the precum dribbling down from Tav's tip, before slowly proceeding to begin sucking the younger man’s cock into his mouth. Tav's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt his master swallow his length with ease. Astarion’s hand moved to grab hold and massage Tav's balls as he bobbed his head.
Tav groaned and panted, resisting the urge to thrust into his master's mouth lest he gets punished for it like last time. Astarion pulled back with wet pop before rubbing Tav's cock a few more times and dropping his own trousers.
Tav's red eyes trail over his lover’s body as the silver haired male began to suck his fingers into his mouth, coating them thoroughly in saliva before he reached behind himself and stuck two fingers up his ass.
“Ahh…Ahh…” Astarion moaned, pumping his fingers in and out. Tav bit his lips, he could feel himself twitch at the sound of his master's moans.
Gods it sounded so heavenly. The pale elf continued to prepare himself scissoring before then shoving his middle finger in knuckle deep.
Once he was ready, he shifted over Tav's cock, grasping it and slowly guiding the tip to his hole.
Astarion lets out a low moan, an open mouth smirk forming on his face as he sits down, taking the spawn's cock deep inside.
“G-Gods….” Tav gasped, feeling his lover clench tightly around him. Astarion stared down at Tav, a pleased look appeared on his face as he noticed his pet squirming under him. Tav reached over to grab Astarion's hips, but the vampire lord stopped, gripping his hands.
“Tut, tut, tut, bad boy. You don't get to touch me.” Astarion clicked his tongue. “Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise.” He ordered, before releasing him and placing his hands on Tav's chest. Slowly he began to move up and down, sliding Tav’s cock in and out of his ass.
“A-Astarion….” Tav whimpered, his nails gripping the sheets as Astarion kept up the same pace, bouncing on top of him. He eventually began to move up slowly before quickly slamming his ass back down on Tav's hips, making a satisfying slap sound and causing Tav to squeak in surprise.
“Mmmm…..You feel good inside me…” He lets out a breathy side before moving up and slamming back down. He could feel Tav's cock leaking, coating his insides, it made movement much easier. Astarion began to pick up his pace repeatedly slamming down on Tav with enough force that it almost felt like he was about to break his pelvis!
“Please…I..ahhh!” Tav cried out, looking up at his master with pleading eyes as his cock began twitching inside of him.
“What is it, pet? Do you want to move, hm?” Astarion pushed down hard against his lover, taking him in deep. He bit his lip, smirking down at Tav. “I…. might let you…” He said, playfully taking hold of Tav’s nipples and tugging on them.
“A-Ahh!” The spawn cried out.
“Say you're mine.” He said. Tav groaned as Astarion slowed his movement, hips sliding up and down at a much slower pace, the room was almost silent aside from the slick wet sound of Astarion riding Tav's weeping cock.
“Say you're mine.” The Ascendant repeated. There was no compulsion, no glow of red eyes, no force. Astarion wanted Tav to say it all on his own.
“I…I…I'm yours…” Tav breathed out, making his master grin widely.
“Again.” Astarion slammed himself down on Tav.
“I'm yours!” Tav said more confidently.
“Good boy! ~ You may move…mmm…” As soon as Astarion gave him permission Tav began to buck his hips upwards, cock repeatedly plunging up into his master's asshole. Astarion rode Tav in time, masterfully matching his pace. He grabbed hold of the back of his spawn's head, gripping his hair as he pulled him in for a rough, sloppy kiss. It took little time from there for Tav to reach his peak, especially with his master's ass threatening to break him.
The two of them relaxed for a while shortly afterwards until eventually Astarion had Tav pinned face down in the pillows, balls deep in his ass. However, the second round was eventually cut short by a disturbance in the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW-END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Masters! Masters!” A charmed servant called beating on the door to their bedroom. His face was full of fear, hands shaky.
There was some muttering, and scuffling coming from the other end of the door, before eventually it opened revealing Astarion shirtless in only his pants. Tav laid on the bed behind him, only a sheet covering his dazed form as he panted, body covered in his master's love bites.
“What the hells do you want!?” Astarion snapped, very annoyed by the interruption.
“M-My lord! Theres a-a…It's t-terrible.. I-I….” The poor terrified man.
“You have ten seconds to speak before I splatter your innards all over the floor.” The sliver haired vampire lord hissed out.
“M-Monster hunters! T-They're on the island! They're harassing the locals and burning down their homes in hopes to find you, master!”
“Determined little shits, aren't they? I don't quite care what happens to the peasants on this little speck of land, but they do pay me rent so...”Astarion sighed in annoyance.
“We have to help them.” Tav said, putting his clothes on and fixing his hair.
“Oh, not this again! You know your little hero act gets so tiresome, love.” Astarion rolled his eyes, “protect the cattle if you must, but my only concern will be slaughtering these vagabonds for even thinking about setting foot on my property.”
Tav kept quiet but glared at him harshly. The way he talked about the people on this island honestly made Tav's stomach turn.
“As you wish, master.” Tav said coldly, the title spoken with pure disgust. Astarion glanced back at Tav with a surprised look. Tav had never addressed Astarion as ‘master’ before. Astarion, despite all his arrogance, pride, and determination to remind Tav who he belonged to on a regular basis, had never once compelled or ordered him to to refer to himself as such. Mostly because the way Tav had always said the vampire lord’s name had been music to his pointed ears. Astarion quickly brushed off these sickening feelings. He was not weak any longer. Such sentimentalities were beneath him.
“Hmm…Perhaps I should put their heads on spikes, leave some of them impaled out in the fields to send a message to any of their brethren.” Astarion chuckled darkly. His ruby red eyes glanced back over at Tav who refused to look him in the eyes. It felt infuriating.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The roads ran red with blood, houses shot up in a blaze and a mother ran across the scene, desperately dragging her children along with her. Tav and Astarion slowly approached the chaos. Complete and utter horror flashed over the vampire spawn’s face. His undead heart breaks to pieces at the site of villagers being slaughtered all for the sake of killing two vampires.
“This chaos has to end Magnus!” An elven woman shouted at a human man. Both of them appeared to be amongst the monster hunters.
“There are children on this island for fucks sake!”
“They had their chance! These people are servants to the undead! They will suffer the same fate as their masters!!!”
“My love, please!” She begged, getting on her knees. “These people did not kill your brother! They're not in control of their minds! It's the vampire’s doing! You must forgive them!”
“Osha…I-I…” The man suddenly froze. He coughed, blood pouring out of his mouth before suddenly he fell flat on his face. Blood leaked from an open wound in his back as he laid in the dirt.
“MAGNUS!!!!” The elven woman shrieked in horror.
The silver haired vampire lord stood behind the man's corpse, a wicked grin as he held Magnus’s still beating heart in the palm of his hand. He slowly crushed it right in front of the elven woman, the blood dripping through his fingers before he licked them clean.
“Mm…Not bad.” Astarion purred.
“You…. YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND!” Osha screeched. Astarion looked back at her slightly amused.
“Oh, was that what he was? Apologies, he was making a mess of my things.” The Vampire Ascendant merely chuckled.
“I'll…. I'll KILL YOU!!” Osha screamed, grabbing hold of a wooden stake from her dead husband's body and rushing for Astarion head on. But before she could even make contact Tav moved in front of her and kicked her away with enough force to send her flying into one of the houses. Tav huffed before looking around at the villagers who were utterly terrified. Astarion blinked and looked back at Tav, a slight warmth flashing through his eyes.
He still loves me….
Before Astarion could say a word Tav ran off, unsheathing scimitars from his back and cutting down any monster hunter who dared to try and stop him. The elven monster hunter’s eyes follow him as she lays on the ground, seemingly broken and lifeless.
“Glacious!” He shouted, shooting an ice knife right at the nearby burning building before kicking his way through the door.
“Everyone out now!” He ordered. A mother pushed her daughters through the door.
“My son! He's still in his crib!” She cried and pointed over to a blocked door.
Tav quickly pushed past her and smashed his way through the blocked off door with vampiric strength. He quickly charged in and scooped up the baby boy, thanking the gods he didn't need to breathe any longer. Tav quickly came back out and handed the woman her baby.
“Thank you, my lord, thank you!” The woman said, tearing up. Tav gave a small smile before suddenly he heard the sound of crying coming from somewhere nearby. Tav rushed over to the scene. It was yet another smoking home.
“Glacious!” He shot another ice knife at the fire in order to put it out. Tav quickly rushed over, a look of confusion covered his face as he noticed the front door had already been open.
Inside was a little half elf girl with long curly blonde hair. The child knelt down by some debris, crying as a pair of motionless legs poked out from under it. Shaky sobs left her mouth as Tav moved closer.
“Come on darling, we need to get you out of here.” Tav said, kneeling down beside her.
“I'm not leaving without my momma!” She snapped; eyes puffy as she broke down into another fit of sobs. Tav shushed the child before placing a comforting hand in her hair and pulling her into a hug.
“It's not safe here, little one.” Tav said, “where is your papa?”
“He got sick a long time ago….He went to sleep and n-never woke up….” She sniffed.
“Come with me and I'll take you somewhere safe and we'll get you something to eat.” Tav eventually was able to convince the little girl to follow after him. He took her by the hand and guided her out of the house.
“What's your name sweetie?” Tav asked as he led her back through the village. He made sure to steer her away from the sight of any corpses in hopes to keep from terrifying the poor little thing.
“I'm Abigail.” She said softly, “momma used to always call me Abby.”
“Abigail is a beautiful name.” Tav smiled softly. He then suddenly heard footsteps and turned to see Astarion approaching.
“There you are, I was wondering where you'd run off to.” Tav’s master licked over the edge of his mouth, a little bit of blood dribbling down his chin. “And what's this? Have you brought me a snack?” Tav glared at the other male before protectively standing in front of the small child.
“No. Stay away from her Astarion.” Tav said sternly.
Astarion clicked his tongue, “lighten up. It was only a joke. Gods.” The pale elf sauntered over to his beloved spawn, glancing over his shoulder without a care.
“Pretty little thing…Perhaps this is just what we need.” Astarion smirked, an idea began to form in his mind. Tav's eyes widened, he knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Astarion no! I'm taking her to an orphanage.”
“Love, don't be ridiculous. Think about how much better off she'd be with us as her fathers.” Astarion took hold of Tav's chin and made the shorter male look up at him. “Isn't that what you want? To have a family with me…?”
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
[Save game 1: Act 3, Crimson Palace.]
Tav bit her lip, holding back a whimper as gripped the wooden comb tightly in her hand. She needed to move fast before the vampire lord drank enough to weaken her. She held the comb high, preparing to plunge it down into his heart from behind but before she could make contact she felt a tight grip around her wrist. Her lover's look alike pulled back from her neck, his blood stained lips forming a frown.
“Trying to kill me already are we? Pity.” His grip around her wrist tightened, threatening to bruise. Tav whimpered, dropping the comb from hand and letting it clatter into the floor below.
“You honestly thought that dull piece of wood would actually stab me!? Ha! Desperation doesn't suit you my dear.” The vampire releases her wrist only to grasp her throat, not as tightly, but still firm enough to make her worry. “I don't want to hurt you darling, but I cannot have you misbehaving.”
“Let me go!” Tav shouted as Astarion stood, yanking her up by the collar around her neck. The Vampire Ascendant seemed to be keeping himself rather composed despite Tav's attempt on his life.
“Oh, I will, you'll go right down into the dungeon to think about what you've done.” Astarion hissed, dragging her out of the study. “Honestly, how can you be so ungrateful! I am giving you everything you could ever want!”
Tav screamed and fought as she was dragged down the hall like wild cat, eventually her survival instincts kicked in and she slung her head around and sank her teeth right down onto the vampire lord’s groin.
“FUCK!” He shouted and crippled down in pain, releasing his grip and Tav and allowing her to turn tail and run like her life depended on it. She darted through a door and quickly down the hall, spotting that strange half-elf girl, Abigail staring at her as she passed.
I need to get this godsdamned collar off of me!
Tav fled further into the palace hearing some footsteps as she came closer towards the ballroom. Swiftly she climbed into a wardrobe off to the side and closed the doors. Peaking out through the cracks as two figures approached. A glowing red eyed Shadowheart and Lae'zel entered the hallway.
“Source of my bruises, are you still in pain?” Lae'zel spoke up, placing her hand on the other female’s cheek. Shadowheart simply shook her head. It appeared the wounds their master inflicted on her had already healed. Tav calmed her breathing, hoping neither of them would detect her presence here. Thankfully however the two of them appeared more concerned with one another. Eventually the two of them walked off, leaving Tav to let out a long sigh of relief.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
[Save Game 1: Act 3, Upper City.]
“Ooh looks like he's called some guard dogs to do his bidding.” Karlach said as she and Astarion stood onto one the of the nearby buildings adjacent to Cazador’s old palace.
“What is up with evil arseholes and always refusing to get their hands dirty?” Karlach huffed as she peeked down below.
“They’d claim It's beneath them, but truthfully it's all over calculated foolish paranoia.” Astarion looked over the side of the roof, eyes trailing over the large werewolves that stocked over the grounds.
“Does he honestly believe no one is going notice all his pets running around?”
“Well this is technically you we're talking about….What do you think?” Karlach asked.
“I would never have been this stupid! Perhaps overconfident, but this it just ridiculous!”
“Hmm…Maybe he just doesn't care if anyone sees them.” Karlach hummed, “oh wait did you remember to bring the bomb arrows?”
“Naturally.” Astarion smirked, pulling out an arrow and notching it slowly.
“Hells yes! Let's blow these fuckers up!” The tiefling cheered. Astarion quickly shot an arrow which flew through the air hitting one of the wolves right between the eyes. It exploded upon impact, splattering brains, blood and pieces of skull over the cobblestones.
“Gross. Do it again!” The tiefling barbarian’s tail swatted back and forth, eyes locked on the chaos below. The vampire spawn quickly notched another arrow and hit another wolf sending bloody severed limbs flying all over the streets. He then proceeded to shoot a couple more, clearing out the frontline security.
“That should give the others an opportunity to rush the front door. Now we just sneak in through the roof.” Astarion explained.
“Got it! Leave it to mama K!” The barbarian grinned before looking back at Astarion.
“Oh no, whatever you're thinking-”
“No time! We need to get in there and save Tav!” The fiery devil insisted before grabbing hold of the smaller elf, throwing his long slender body over her muscular shoulder.
“Karlach! Gods-dammit! Put me down this instant!” The little vampire hissed.
“We're coming, Tav!” She exclaimed, before backing up and rushing over the building leaping across the sky while Astarion clung to her wide eyed, fingernails digging into her like a scared cat.
The vampire Ascendant never would have guessed his windows would have been shattered by a big red beefy barbarian lady and a cat-like rogue, but here we are.
Note From TheChaoticDruid: I am so sorry for the for the wait! Honestly, I didn't really feel like too many people were invested in this story and 'This Bites' had really become my main focus multi-part fanfic wise. I'm hoping to finish up this story in about two more parts. The Spawn and the Ascendant WILL start showing down next part. Also, I usually don't add a little divider for my smut, but I felt like I just randomly decided there was going to be smut in this part (kinda spur of the moment thing), so I added the Nsfw heads up in case someone reading was not ready for it in this story. Please leave a comment or a reblog down below it really helps motivate me to write! See you guys next time!
#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#astarion ancunin#astarion x tav#astarion my beloved#astarion x reader#bg3 tav#astarion romance#astarion#ascended astarion#male tav#female tav#druid tav#astarion smut#spawn astarion#spawn tav#karlach#Bg3 x reader#bg3 x tav#bg3 x you#Astarion x you#slight shadowzel I snuck in there shh..
101 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ortolan
Angels, darlings, besties, I present to you the most evil thing I’ve ever written. The first chapter of a little gothic story about our favorite vampire ascendant and his beloved consort. Named, of course, after the bird that is born and bred to be eaten whole. Horror ensues.
Also on AO3, if you prefer. Thank you for reading!
All her life Tav had lived in the palm of the palace’s shadow, its black spire-fingers stretching and reaching into the corners of the city when the sun dipped low. She had never known then how it held her, that distant, haunted thing, had never thought its eyes might watch her when she wasn’t watching back.
She watches everything now.
From its high balconies, she can see all of the Gate spread out below. The streets, the shops, the city center, the painted roofs and cobbled roadways— all in miniature from here, like little playthings from her childhood. The people move like dolls beneath her, in and out of the castle’s black hand, and on the days time seems to dilate in a widening, infinite loop, she thinks she sees herself among them, walking freely in the sun.
She could make the lower city in an hour, if she hurried.
It’s not so far, she thinks. Just far removed.
Half a league and a lifetime away.
*****
Where Tav feels out of place in their new home, Astarion thrives.
He stalks the halls with newfound confidence, cold command in every step, making note of things he’ll have their servants change. He seems to know the place inherently, every floorboard, every stone, while Tav gets lost with alarming frequency by comparison.
She only explores at Astarion’s urging– Until it feels like home, my darling – but the halls are narrow and labyrinthine, stairways twisting into darkness, secret passages that lead nowhere or loop back to where she started. When learning the layout seems impossible and makes her feel like a rat in a maze, Astarion reminds her that all the prior spawn, including himself, had done it.
Even an animal, she wants to say, can learn its way around a trap.
It’s not all awful, she supposes. She loves the libraries and the moon garden, with its fragrant phlox and foxgloves, and the oratory, too, when she gets brave enough to enter (Astarion promises more than once that she will not burst into flames).
In fact most of the rooms, when she discovers them, are beautiful, pristine save for a gauzy shroud of dust left over centuries. Others have fallen to neglect, or to irrelevance. There is no need now for the garderobe, the vanity, the ice house, for the dovecote where no living birds remain.
She finds the kitchen and the larder and the buttery standing useless– though the rats, if they could speak, might disagree. They’re busy gnawing at the stock of moldy scraps still in the pantry, hardly minding her approach until she’s on them.
Her eyes track them as they scatter, like a hunter, like a predator. An instinct she’s developed since her death.
She is stronger, swifter, sharper– as Astarion had promised– but there is violence softly shimmering beneath. She wants to tear at something, always, wants to follow something home. She wants to bite down hard enough to make her jaw ache.
She never tells him out of fear he will encourage it.
Tav dreads the day she knows is coming, the day he’ll send her out to hunt. He loves her bloodlust when he feeds her– Such an eager little thing– and keeps her hungry to incentivize her finding her own victims.
But a rat is not a victim, says her instinct.
She follows one into the back half of the kitchen past the storerooms, to a passage she has never seen before. The rodent slips beneath a door that hangs half-rotten on its hinges, as if no one has been through it in a century. It is unlikely, it occurs to her, that even Astarion knows it exists.
The door creaks open with her touch, the air beyond it thick with odor– wine and earth and slow decay, with something coppery beneath. She pricks her ears toward the sound of little claws upon the stonework, of a heartbeat in the dark that’s not her own.
The rat has vanished out of sight, but it’s no matter. She can trace it by its movements, by its scent. As she creeps farther down the passage, the metallic scent gets clearer– copper, yes, but also parchment, like the binding of a book. Hints of mushroom, hints of honey, hints of soil, mold, and… rat blood .
The realization feeds her drive and her disgust in equal measure. Turn around , she tells herself. Let the poor thing go .
But she moves on as if compelled, down one long staircase then another, winding deep beneath the palace where it’s damp and dark and cold. At the bottom she stops to listen, stops to take a deep breath in.
There is a foulness deep below– the unmistakable scent of death– and still, the rat blood, like a top note, rises over the decay.
She hurries blindly into the blackness, her feet following her nose until she loses track of how many times she pivots and pivots back. They move underground until the air gets moist, the stone floor slick beneath them. Her own feet stick each time she pulls them up, as if walking through mud, or through gore.
We must be deep beneath the earth, she thinks, for it to be so wet.
The creature ahead of her stops suddenly, its breath heavy and exhausted, running one way then another, side to side. Dead-ended by a wall, no doubt. It finds no way ahead.
She can make out the trembling shape of it, her eyes black with lack of light, and then another shape between them, and another, and another. They look like piles of festered meat left in a storeroom, long-forgotten, and for a moment she believes that’s where she is.
Tav takes a step around a pile and something crunches beneath her heel. A bone, or shard of bone, she notes, the flesh long-rotted off the marrow. Another step, another crunch, a skittering sound like a stone being kicked.
She kneels to touch the little object, to bring it closer to her face. Another shard, it seems, an animal tooth, the one end needle-sharp and hollow…
The realization swells and hits her like a wave.
Her single-mindedness is banished as she looks around the room, no, not a room, a crypt– the crypt!– where Cazador locked all of his spawn before the ritual. Whatever is left of them coats the floor, their blood, their hair, their shattered teeth, and Tav can smell it now, their stench, beneath the rat that she’s all but forgotten.
Her own voice screams above the instinct. I should not be here.
She turns and runs in the direction she came from, at least, the direction she thinks she came from– and should she turn left here, or right? There should be stairs, where are the stairs, where are the stairs?
She runs until she can run no more, until she corners herself in a corridor, caught between the way she came and a bolted door. She tries to stop herself from shaking, not from cold or damp, but terror, the idea she might be left in here until she is nothing but rot.
But what she has learned from getting lost is that he will find her.
She’s never asked him how he does it. She isn’t sure she wants to know.
He always does, she reassures herself. I only need to wait.
She doesn’t know how long she huddles there in the bleak and soundless gloom, doesn’t know how long she listens for his footfall.
At last a voice slips through the darkness. A pale hand reaches for her own.
“You’ve wandered far this time, my darling. I could hardly trace your scent.”
A horror scurries down her spine like little claws upon the floor. That’s how I tracked it when it ran, she shivers. Parchment, mushroom, honey.
It’s how he finds her now, no matter where she runs.
*****
It is hours later when she asks him, with his blood still on her lips, how it feels to wring the life out of a creature, drop by drop.
“You ought to know,” he answers absently, completely unperturbed. He is preoccupied, deciding on the perfect place to bite her, fingers tracing every vein beneath her skin. “You’ve killed a thousand times, my love, have you forgotten?”
“That was different. Not for blood.”
“No, gods forbid,” Astarion laughs. “Most times for gold.”
She feels annoyance, like a spider, creeping up the back of her neck. “Do I hear judgment?”
“Certainly not.” He makes a show of looking scandalized, a hand fluttering over his heart. “I’d never begrudge you a little violence, you know that.”
As he moves further down the bed his touch trails with him, hands and mouth mapping a blue line down her body, along her breast and hip and thigh. He settles there and moves her legs apart so he can kneel between them, makes her shiver in familiar delight.
She wants to lose them in this moment, those poor creatures in the crypt, wants to put them from her mind for now and always. But with every touch she feels Astarion’s hunger, still unsated; with every kiss, she feels the sharpness of his teeth.
Like animal teeth, she thinks. Like theirs, like mine.
“But do they suffer? When you drain them?”
Astarion sighs like rustled velvet, looking up at her from his knees.
“Such a soft heart, still,” he murmurs. “Did you suffer, my beloved?”
How easily, how often she forgets that he has killed her.
If there was suffering she can’t recall it now, no matter how she tries. The memory’s far off in the distance, formless, fogged by ambiguity. If she moved toward it, maybe she could make out certain details…
But his tongue is on her now, and she welcomes the distraction. It is unpleasant, after all, to relive dying. He drags it slowly over the soft flesh of her thigh above the artery until she hums a little sound of satisfaction.
“Would you like to?” He asks, in that same, soft voice. His eyeteeth shine like pearls in the rising moonlight.
“Please,” she whispers. It is all the urging he needs.
She cries out at the breaking of her skin, the rush of blood into his mouth. The feeding has always been pleasurable, even when she was alive, but it is heightened now that they are bound together. She can feel him from the inside now, coursing through his body, she can fill him and fulfill him with blood alone.
“More,” she pleads, when he pulls away to look at her. Already he is bright with her blood. “Astarion, more.”
If this is suffering, she wants it– every evening, every hour– until whatever light still shines in her eyes goes out.
*****
In her dreams she finds her way back to the black mouth of the crypt, its iron gates swung wide on their hinges as if to swallow her entirely. She’s running frightened, like a rabbit , like a rat from something watching, someone whispering her name into the dark.
#astarion x tav#astarion ancunin#astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x female tav#ascended astarion x tav#ascended astarion#spawn tav#bg3#my fic#my writing#astarion fanfic#vampire ascendant#tw: blood#tw: gore#I had to give them the gothic treatment so bad I hope you understand#astarion smut#the pale elf
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
| ascended astarion x tav |
okay so, @themoonatmingitaw animatic rules my brain. and so here's a little wip, that i did in these past few days. it's not finished and i have no idea if this will become a fic, but i'd love to hear your thoughts!
also english is not my first language! and so there might be some mistakes, as it's also a raw version.
Tav = Tavarra (gave her a name, cause I've seen people do that)
WARNINGS: dark astarion, slavery, abuse
>>>>><<<<<
Tavarra had a porcelain doll once. It sat on a bookshelf in her room, with shiny cheeks and pretty dress in a perfect condition, as young Tavarra did her best to dust her everyday. Throughout the years, the doll remained on that bookshelf and as Tavarra grew, she stopped dusting her as often.
She still loved her dear porcelain doll, it was hers was it not?
So as the years passed, the dust lingered and the doll was no longer as beautiful as it once was. Then, as Tavarra left her home, the doll’s fate became nothing but a stray thought, as it sat on the shelf, all alone. Forgotten with only dust and other pretty things from the shelf to keep her company…
Tavarra once envied the doll, it was so pretty. It didn’t have to study or do any chores… It was a simple task.
To simply exist and be pretty…
Tavarra no longer envied her precious doll.
Not as she sat in a luscious room, surrounded by pretty things, all alone and forever waiting for someone to come and look. To come and dust her off…
She became Astarion’s precious pretty little porcelain doll. Forever chained, not to a shelf, but to a luxurious room. Dressed in the most beautiful of dresses, adorned with the wealthiest of jewellery and with her long hair brushed out.
It didn’t used to be like this.
In the beginning, Astarion and her walked the same path. Tavarra might’ve been not but a spawn, but oh, she was much more than that. Astarion’s power extended to her, for a while at least…, he shared with her the beauty of immortality and the joys of being a daywalker.
They danced during the day and fed at night, forever together.
Oh… but how quickly that forever came to an end…
Only roughly over a hundred years, it lasted. Then one by one, changes came.
It started small, with words of adoration for Tavarra’s light blonde locks.
“Truly magnificent, my darling.” he whispered that night, as his fingers brushed through her grown out curls.
Tavarra had been meaning to cut it for some time now.
“Oh you musn’t, my sweet.” he purred, his lips dragging up her tan arm and finally settling against her jaw “I like it long… different from how you wore it before. It makes me appreciate the colour far more, like this.”
She didn’t cut her hair. Not ever since then, not even when it started to drag behind her, joining the train of her dresses.
Then bit by bit, Astarion took from her. Not only what he gave, but what she herself had.
Her longbow and sword.
Now they hung above his throne, like a prize.
Her throne.
Back when she was allowed to walk amongst the halls freely, she sat beside him. Then a step down. After that it was all the way down the small steps to his throne. And finally she was perched upon his lap, as his hands travelled up and down her body.
Her lute.
It was put away in a crystal display in Astarion’s art gallery.
Her armour.
Much like the lute, it met the same fate along with Astarion’s old armour.
Her days in the sun.
Astarion worried for Tavarra’s safety… he wanted her off the streets, and so why should she need to be allowed out in the sun?
Her freedom…
“No!” she screamed, clawing at his shoulders as tears ran down her cheeks.
“No?” he chuckled, cupping her face in his palms “My love. This isn’t a discussion, I only want you with me. Always. Forever—”
“Astarion—”
His face twisted in anger, as his hands moved down, holding her neck “You wanted to be mine. And so you are mine. So why should you want to leave? Hm?” he shook her slightly, his grip tightening “Do you want to leave me?! Do you not love me, my darling?!”
Tavarra sobbed, unable to break the hold he had on her. Still, her nails clawed at his hands as she whispered.
“You’re hurting— me.”
Clarity that rarely came these days washed over him, as his hands retreated, coming to gently embrace her instead “Darling… oh, I am so very sorry.”
She cried against him, not having much of a choice, as the chains he put on her wrists and neck stole her strength.
“I only want to keep you safe. Safe and sound, like you deserve, my sweet Tavarrra.” he whispered, petting her hair slowly “All of this is for you… for us.”
Tavarra just cried, taking whatever moment of comfort that she could from him.
Stealing from him, just as he stole from her.
>>>>><<<<<
tell me what you think and please go watch the animatic that inspired this! it's so freaking good!
although i don't think that i'd quite follow the ending... no matter how perfect and beautiful it is. i'm too weak for that :(((((
youtube
#astarion romance#ascended astarion#astarion x tav#ascended astarion x tav#bg3 tav#baldurs gate 3#bg3 fanfiction#astarion fanfic#dark astarion#vampire tav#spawn tav#wip#tav x astarion#tav x astarion fanfiction#writting#fanfiction#astarion brainrot#Youtube
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
No One's Gonna Harm You, Darling
Ascended!Astarion x Reader
summary: when Astarion turned you into his spawn, he told you that you needn't fear anything. But what about him? Ao3
The night was getting long and you still hadn’t seen Astarion. You were starting to get anxious about it.
Usually, when you woke up in the morning (night) Astarion was right there beside you. Greeting the day with you with that cheeky smile before you both set off on your chores for the day. Today he was nowhere to be found.
You had shrugged it off, though a little disgruntled at not getting your kiss and sweet ‘good morning my treasure’ first thing like normal, as you were not so conceded that you thought all of Astarion’s world revolved around you.
But after breakfast, and several hours of him not making at least an appearance, you were starting to get concerned.
His world may not revolve around you, but Astarion would never leave or disappear without telling you. On the off times during your courtship that he did have things to do, as building and running an underground empire of darkness could be time consuming, he always told you where he was going or left you a note as to not have you worried. You always told him he didn’t have to, but without those assurances this time you were starting to worry.
“Where is Astarion?” You ask one of the servants you had cornered in the hallway. They too had been suspiciously absent today.
The girl looked fretted. Seeming to debate on if she could run, or use some kind of manner of magic to disappear, but would never disrespect their Master’s consort like that. “He…He is busy, most esteemed one.”
“I figured that, but I asked where he was.” There was a furrow in the girl’s brow. A twitch of her lip. So you tell her proactively, “don’t lie to me,” and she flinched as if her hand had been smack for even thinking of the lie.
“He is in the kennels, beloved consort.”
You arch your brow quite high. The kennels?
Despite having all his new insurmountable power and complete run of the palace now, Astarion still avoided the kennels like the plague. Too many bad memories, you assume. Despite his complete renovation of an old prison into his new home, the walls still held secrets and memories unable to be masked over by a fresh coat of paint.
You leave the servant and head for the kennels. Unlike before there are no barriers to you in the palace. The two of you have no secrets.
The stench of blood and the horrors inflicted here still hang in the air. As if etched into the stone. But more than that there is a new scent of blood. Fresh and haunting. The back of your mouth watered at the smell, but you tamper it down as you follow its trail to the back of the kennels. Sounds of grunting, chains, and wet echoing off the stone to your ears until you are just behind Astarion. A knife in his hand. Stabbing repetitively over and over into some blood mass in front of him that sprayed his alabaster skin, as if you were back in the old days.
The stabbing stopped, and Astarion turned to look at you. His face goes a light when he saw you. Smiling with a jovial, “darling!” As if his face wasn’t freckled with blood. “Has it already gotten so late? I’m sorry my pet. I was just tying up some loose ends and got lost in my work.” He turned to show you what he was working on. And you felt your blood run even colder than it was. “Correcting a wrong.”
Though it’s impossible to tell anymore with how mangled his face was now, you could tell that this was the noble man from the party a few weeks ago. The one who insulted you. The one who felt the need to tell the other guests that someone of clearly such meager station & upbringing should not be the companion of someone they’ve now claimed as their own. The one who left with a gracious departure from their host and a curt regard to you as he left, thinking he was safe. Thinking that nobility and riches would keep him safe like any lord. Think the high walls of his own palace would keep anyone out as he likely slept peacefully in his bed.
He hadn’t met anyone like Astarion before.
“Now, I think we’ve established that your crimes are severe and unyielding, my lord.” The mocking sneer his almost like a serpent’s hiss as he coils around the whimpering man. “I know you’ve said many sorry up until now. Pleaded for forgiveness. Begged to your Gods.” His hand gripped the back of the man’s head by his balding hair. Turning it upward so he look at you with gapping sockets. “But it’s not me you need to apologize to. It’s my consort.” The man whimpered and sniveled as Asation leaned in by his ear and whispered, “apologize.”
He choked on the words and blood as he tried desperately to get the words out to you. See, he didn’t have a tongue anymore. You don’t know where it’s gone, but it wasn’t in his mouth. You were too terrified to ask. Astarion, however, seems to take his gargled words as the apology he was looking for and granted him the mercy that he sought by slicing his throat. What’s left of his blood spilled out over his bloated stomach as his body slumped in his manacles.
“There.” Astarion’s voice brought you back to yourself. The shock of the scene in front of you leaving you paralyzed until his words cut through your mind like the knife in his hand. “That’s that.”
He circled around from behind the corpse and came up to you. You fervently ask Astarion why he did this. Demand to know what possessed him to torture & kill a more or less innocent man. “Why?” He replied back curiously. A look of befuddlement on his handsome, blood-stained face. “He insulted you. Said those awful things in front of our guests. In our home. Did you really think I would let someone like that go to spread more of his disgusting words and bad breath about the city? About my consort.”
He took a step closer to you and you felt a subconscious pull to take a step back. It seemed you were still paralyzed in a way, however, as your legs couldn’t move. Astarion cupped his free hand to your cheek. Giving you a soft look despite the murder all around him. “No one is going to harm you, darling. Not while I’m around. Not even your feelings.”
He leaned in to kiss your forehead. So sweet and gentle that you almost forget about the blood and the murder and the smell of death in the air. He then let you go and walked past you. Some comment about needing a bath to get all this blood off, as it was too vile for consumption, and an offer for you to join him came past your ears. But you barely hear it. With Astarion gone the shock was setting back in again. Alone with what he had done on your behalf, you feel just as guilty as if you had wielded the knife.
Astarion said that no one was going to harm you while he was around. But who was going to protect you from him?
#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#ascended astarion#astarion#bg3 astarion#bg3 ascended astarion#baldur's gate#baldurs gate 3#bg3 scenarios#bg3 imagine#bg3 fanfiction#baldur's gate scenarios#baldur's gate imagine#scenarios#imagine#tav#bg3 tav#spawn tav#tw: gore
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
I was just thinking. How come Astarion can still feed on you after he’s turned you into his spawn? And you can bite him to get the happy buff too. But neither of you are able to bite any other undead… are vampire undead different somehow or is this just a game mechanic thing?
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
I can't be the only person who has made this connection, but I listened to Within You by David Bowie from Labyrinth and y'all, these lyrics are perfectly Ascended Astarion and Spawn Tav (or basic Tav lol) coded.
Now I haven't played a run with Ascended Astarion yet lol but check it
I dunno man, it just speaks to me
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 spoilers#bg3 tav#astarion#ascended astarion#spawn tav#david bowie#within you#labyrinth#Spotify
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Unexpected Visitor
Summary: Ascended!Astarion and Tav have been together for thousands of years. One day, an unexpected visitor shows up, reminding them of their past and offering them a new adventure.
Word Count: 4k
Here's the link to AO3!
Pairing: (soft) Ascended!Astarion x Female Tav
Warning: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Oral Sex. Light bondage. Light dom/sub.
A/N: This is going to be a multi-chapter story I will be posting here and on AO3. Largely but not entirely based on my headcanons for Ascended!Astarion that you can read here: Part 1. Part 2. (Not necessary to read first!!)
I hope you enjoy!
You wake up with a strong sense of unease. Astarion, your creator and husband, picks up on it immediately, of course. The two of you are so profoundly connected, your minds nestled together; he knows that you do not know the ‘why’ for these feelings.
Astarion kisses and cuddles you good morning, as he always does, but he holds you a bit longer this time, not wanting to get out of bed with his consort feeling this way. His hold on you is tight as he buries his nose in your hair.
Alas, Astarion has work to do, including ensuring the protection of his territories and assets, especially at a time like this.
The war, my darling. The war. Astarion reminds you again. You hadn’t been affected by it at all, and didn't really care. And Astarion really didn’t care that you didn’t care. He only wanted your happiness and wellbeing, and had worked hard to keep you away from it all.
But he feared that maybe you could sense it, or were beginning to. His weariness, his stress; those feelings he did his best to guard you from.
Astarion cradled you to his chest, one arm on your naked back and the other nestled in the root of your hair, giving you gentle massages as you listen to the thump of his ever-beating heart. After a while, Astarion repositions the two of you so that he may offer his neck to you. He knows this is your (second) favorite place to feed, because you can feel the beat of his heart and drink in his scent.
He also knows you’d rather like to feed from the inside of his thigh, but now was not the time for that. Well, maybe it was, but the two of you were already late for court.
As you sup of his blood, you moan with pleasure - there is nothing better to a bride than the blood of her creator, and Astarion was a very generous master.
“Your master adores you, my little darling,” Astarion whispers in your ear as you feed, his hand moving to caress the back of your head. His teasing words cause you to grind into his hips, and you can feel him beginning to get hard.
“Enough, my pet,” Astarion says as he pulls you away, detaching your fangs from his ivory skin. As he meets your gaze, the memories of your days of madness wash over him like the shock of ice cold water.
Long ago, Astarion insisted you feed on him and only him. There was danger in this, a bride feeding too much from her Master. This, Astarion knew, but his mind was shrouded with paranoia.
In another land, one of the brides of vampire master Geldon Moth was poisoned and killed. Once Astarion heard the news, he came to a quick decision.
Believing his blood to be the safest for you, you were to feed on him and only on him. After months of letting you gorge, Astarion saw the bridal madness for the first time.
Astarion is quick to push the memory away. Before he does, you catch a glimpse of the scene: you’re inconsolable, starving, horny as a bitch in heat, and as violent as ever. Astarion is crying, begging you to come back to yourself.
Astarion no longer remains your only food source. He is your primary one, indeed, but the essence of others is to be drunk from a goblet, not from lips to skin. That is reserved for you and your creator.
Thou art mine. A thought rings in your head.
You help Astarion dress, as you have for the past…so many years. Astarion dismissed his footman so long ago, preferring to do the work himself with the help of his consort. His aversion to touch, anyone’s but your own, was an ever-growing symptom of the choices the both of you made so long ago.
Astarion plants a tender kiss on your lips before he goes, and your own maid comes in to help you dress and take care of your hair. She wants to put it in an updo of some kind, so that you match with the other ladies of the court.
But you’ve been feeling rather rebellious, and Astarion sat on the throne, so you could do whatever you wanted. And so you did.
You keep it long, like a curtain, and now that Astarion had finally moved on from his insistence that you wear something low cut, you choose a dress that is modest, comfortable, but regal enough. You ditch the shoes. You’ve been alive for nearly two millenniums. You know your beauty is already unmatched, and you needn’t worry yourself with discomfort. Your feet rarely touch the floor, anyways.
But your current maid doesn’t seem to agree, and always argues with you about the fucking shoes. Before she even begins, you hiss at her.
This maid, Bethild, is one you’ve had for a while now. First joining your service as a young woman, Bethild was now rather old and round, you think. She tuts at you for hissing before crossing her arms, ready to give you a lecture.
“It’s not befitting of a Lady in your position to be hissing,” Bethild addressed you in ways others would die for, but you rather liked her, and Astarion did too.
But before she could continue, you use your vampiric telepathy to force your way in. THE DRESS IS LONG ENOUGH. NOBODY WILL SEE. You scream this into her mind, trying to cause her a bit of pain, maybe some nausea.
Bethild knows when she’s lost a battle, and she murmurs something about your Master hearing about this as she bumbles her way out of your room.
You roll your eyes at her as she leaves. Why must we do this everyday? You reach out to your husband. But he doesn’t immediately respond, because he already knows your grief: it is simply becoming increasingly difficult for you to tolerate mortals.
We can get you a new maid, my consort. Or we can get rid of them all together. Whatever it is you want, it will be yours. Astarion reaching into your mind is always comfortable, and the contact sends a shiver to your core.
You didn’t understand how Astarion could handle it so well. So much better than you. You were thankful that he could, of course, but you just didn’t understand.
You’re perfect the way you are, my consort. You don’t need to be like me. You are mine, and I will always take care of you.
Once you’re ready, you float to your throne, making a bit of a scene because of your tardiness. Astarion doesn’t care; the subjects can wait, especially for you.
As you take your seat, Astarion holds your hand, idly (and a bit anxiously) playing with your fingers as he handles business. He likes to look at them as he mulls over the proceedings in his mind; he plays with your rings, twisting them around your fingers and sometimes switching them between digits. Every day, he looks forward to seeing what choice of jewelry you will make. It makes him feel tremendous pride to see the beauty of your soft and smooth hands, and to see the decadent jewels on your pretty fingers.
Whatever business Astarion is handling today is, frankly, totally lost on you. If something important happens, something you need to know, Astarion will tell you.
So, you lose yourself in the folds of you and your eternal lover’s mind. You always enter this vampiric trance during court. You needn’t speak, because you trust your beloved creator to speak for you.
After a few hours and a few dealings later, something briskly breaks you out of this trance. That unease.
Astarion squeezes your hand to draw your attention to him. You meet his gaze, and you see a lot there: love, need, possession, inquiry, frustration. You’re having a hard time parsing through it, but what you gather is you are making Astarion extremely uncomfortable.
We’re almost done here. After court, you will be sequestered away until I know you are safe. Is all he communicates with you.
It’s just a sense of unease, my love. Please just stay with me, you are all the protection I need. Don’t lock me away. You are practically begging at this point, but your face gives nothing away. You are dampened by your curse. Rather it be the vampiric curse or the curse of time, you aren’t sure. You are still you, but your light shines dimmer.
Astarion narrows his eyes at you. Your foresight has been right before.
You shake your head at him. Now, you’re both starting to lose your poker faces. The mortals murmur around you, but the two of you exist only with each other at this moment, and the rest of the world is diminished.
This is different. It’s just a feeling, nothing more. I’ve had no visions, Master. You call him this to soften him up; it makes Astarion’s cock twitch just to hear you say the word.
As Astarion’s thoughts turn lewd, a servant approaches him, informing him of the next visitor to be heard. You feel Astarion’s mind slip away from yours as he focuses on the world around him.
But the words of the servant are tumbling around in his head. Scary, strange looking elf.
What? You ask, probing into Astarion’s mind.
He looks over to you, his handsome features and lustful eyes (he’s still having some lewd thoughts) causes your breath to catch and sends your second heartbeat to race. He said the visitor knew us, and was a terrifying, strange looking elf.
A picture has already formed in Astarion’s mind of a strange green egg that was briefly in your possession during your adventuring days. Still holding each other’s gaze, you both silently acknowledge that the ‘strange elf’ is in fact, not an elf.
The two of you further slip into each other's minds, a feeling so familiar by now yet no less pleasurable. The folds of your waking mind are fondled by his, and as he is weaving through you, he finds a memory he cannot ignore: that pretty clearing. His own version of the memory rises within him, meeting yours halfway. He is focused on that first kiss, that first taste of you, your folds, the taste of your sweat…
You can’t help but smile as you hear Astarion’s heart racing. The passage of time is cruel and has taken many things from you and Astarion both. But neither of you could ever forget that first night.
Focus, my lover. You poke at him.
Astarion smirks. It must be a githyanki. We fought many of them, remember, little love?
You remember, only vaguely. Astarion’s memory was much sharper than yours, due to his ascended state.
Deciding to give it no more thought, you drift off into your trance again, and Astarion lets you. You needn’t care about this mysterious visitor; you had other things to worry about, like drinking blood, striking fear into the hearts of mortals, and how you were going to convince your darling husband to get on his knees and put his pretty lips on your glistening, swollen sex later tonight.
You glance at Astarion as he’s listening to one of the servants. You focus on his pretty lips, and how perfect they look around your nipple, or your clit.
You think you’ll start by wearing a low cut dress to dinner - yes, that would be the right move. He wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off the plush curve of your breasts, especially if you could manage to wear a corset. You’re also thinking you’ll skip the panties, because surely you can goad him into putting a hand up your skirts. Maybe you’ll invite him to feed on your inner thigh; he loves that tender spot so much, he likely wouldn't be able to help himself to having a taste of you —
“I see your union has stood the test of time,” The sound of the woman’s voice snaps you back into the present with a whirl. You know her voice. You know her face, even: pretty, green skin, orange hair, she even looks rather young, still.
“It is good to see you both. You look….well.” The githyanki says. She is wearing armor, and has a long sword sheathed on her back. She looks at you uneasily, but you see a fondness in her eyes and a comfortable sense of familiarity.
Lae’zel. Astarion tells you. She was once your lover. You can feel Astarion seething at the reminder that once, you were not his. You don’t really know how to respond to him, because you do remember your time with Lae’zel, but it was so long ago it is literally ancient history.
You knit your brows together as you take her in. Her coming must be that feeling of unease. And Astarion tells you as much as he converses with Lae’zel. She wants something, he tells you. Despite his broiling jealousy, Astarion keeps a cordial, straight face as he converses with Lae’zel.
She has been in the Astral Plane, a place outside of time and space, fighting a seemingly never ending war with Vlaakith. And she has come to her only living allies on the mortal plane, the Ancunins, for help.
Lae’zel and Astarion come to an agreement for a private meeting on the morrow. Astarion’s emotions are all over the place; he ends court early, deciding to sequester you to the bedchamber early.
As he marches you to the boudoir, hand on your wrist as you’re barely keeping up with him, Astarion is stopped by a servant. Whatever message Astarion receives leaves him feeling desperate - his mind was disarranged, his face twisted in grief.
Parsing through his mind, you can’t even manage to make out a few words - whatever has happened, Astarion is either hiding it from you or still trying to process it himself. Likely a bit of both, you decide.
But once the two of you reach your bed chambers, he becomes a single minded man.
Astarion grabs both of your wrists with one hand and has you bent over the bed before you can even register your own movement. With his other hand, he is pushing up your skirts, finding his way to your naked sex.
“How ignorant of me to believe all of your past lovers were dead,” His voice escapes through gritted teeth, low and raspy. Astarion maneuvers you on the bed so that you are now on your knees with your ass in the air, hands still being held behind your back. With no way to support yourself, your head rests on the bed.
So much for your plan of getting Astarion on his knees for you.
Astarion’s grip on your wrists tighten as his other hand grazes your exposed labia, caressing the lips of your cunt with his dexterous fingers before sliding a finger inside of you until he is knuckle deep.
“Do you remember your time with her, my consort?” The sensation of his finger being dragged against your slick, spongy walls send you rolling your hips into his hand, desperate for more.
Yes, you think desperately, even though he already knows the answer. He’s surely searched your mind already, probably long ago.
“Say it. Use your words,” His tone is harsh, but his fingers gentle as he slides another into you with little resistance.
“Yes, I remember,” You say, the words feeling odd in your mouth. You realized you hadn’t spoken aloud in quite a while.
Astarion lets go of your hands and brings his arm around your front, a hand gripping your neck and bringing you upright, so that your back is to his chest. His two fingers are still buried inside you.
“I am forever yours, Astarion,” His grip on your neck is gentle, and you’re able to turn your head to look at him. His ruby eyes bore into you, such a perfect reflection of your own.
His own eyes are pleading. Tell me. Please.
You brace yourself. Not because you don’t mean it, but because you know you will never hear the reciprocation spoken aloud.
“I love you, Astarion,” You supplicate.
His eyes are wet, just for a moment, and then his lips crash into yours, his hand trailing up to grab your jaw, to guide you to him. He relinquishes you from his fingers and quickly removes his clothing, not wasting any time to put himself between your legs.
Your dress is long gone by the time Astarion lines his cock up with your entrance, eyes locked with yours in an intense gaze.
“Say it again. For your Master, spawn,” He growls. You knew this was merely just a part he wanted you to play sometimes, but it hurt all the same. He knew this. But he needed this from you.
“I love you eternally, Master,” You speak with a soft voice barely above a whisper as Astarion rubs his swollen tip against your puffy folds.
His ruby eyes bore into you as he pushes into you slowly; a moan escaping his pretty lips once he’s bottomed out, balls deep inside of you. He leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead before meeting your gaze again.
“You are my everything, Tav.” His voice is raw, and this is all he can manage before his lips meet yours again. You clench around his cock as he begins to set a slow, steady pace.
That tiny longing inside of you vanishes, and you know that you are his everything. You tangle your hand in his hair and deepen your kisses; Astarion whimpers at this, and when he quickened his pace, your cunt is making lewd, squelching noises at the power of his thrusts.
“Gods above,“ Astarion breathes against your lips. He begins to play with you, adjusting his pace until he finds the perfect rhythm to exuberate the lewd sounds of your desperation.
Bringing himself upright, Astarion watches you; your lips are parted, showing off your beautiful fangs, which he loves so much. He admires your smooth, unmarred skin, as he was careful not to leave any scars on your body. Sure, he had wanted to permanently mark you, but he thought it cruel and pointless: you are his, and nothing will ever change that.
As Astarion slides his cock along your walls, you can’t help but clench around him as you eye your gorgeous husband.
Astarion’s beauty was that of literal legends; as you eye his disheveled curls, the cut of his muscles and jaw, and you know that every ballad, every poem, every story of the beauty of Astarion the Decadent, Hero of Baldur’s Gate, is true.
Astarion needs to taste you now, and he slowly pulls his cock out from your desperate cunt, causing you to whimper from the loss. Astarion lowers himself between your legs before examining your sex.
“I’ve made a sloppy little mess of you, haven’t I?” Astarion smirks at you, his pupils blown with lust. With his fingers, he spreads your folds, eyeing you as your anticipation grows. He swipes his tongue from your entrance to your clit before he wraps his lips around your swollen, glistening clit and begins to suck; his tongue is so soft, so gentle, and the steady circles he is making with his tongue have you trembling beneath him.
“Perfect…” He murmurs against your sex, the vibration of his silky voice causing you to whimper. “You’re so…” He can’t even finish his sentence as he begins to devour you, and he is desperate to taste you as you come. He has you screaming his name in mere seconds, and you are putty in his hands as he brings himself back up to his knees and rams his cock in you.
You’re so wet, and to your surprise, Astarion inserts two fingers inside you along with his cock; the stretch makes you groan, and he smiles wildly as his other hand grasps your jaw, pulling your head aside to expose your neck to him.
Mine. Mine. Mine. To do with as I please. Body, blood, and soul. You’re mine to fuck, to stretch out, to eat, to use, and you can never leave me. This scares you, but you can’t deny your increasing wetness for him. And you can’t deny the truth of his words.
Astarion slides his fangs into you, making you shudder as he moans loudly; he is so deep inside you, you can feel his swollen tip hitting your cervix, and you claw at his scalp and his back as he drinks you in.
After just a few sips, Astarion is coming undone, and his arms are around you now, holding you so tightly to him that you can’t breathe. You can feel his balls contracting against the curve of your ass as he spills his seed inside you. He trails mindless kisses on your skin as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.
He holds you to him for a while, cock still inside of you, and you can feel the decreasing thump of his heart against your chest. Eventually, he rolls over, and when you’re released from his cock, you feel his seed spilling out of you, dripping down your slick folds and pooling at your pert asshole.
“I’m going to commission a painting of you, just like this.” He says as he examines the damage. “I’d have to gouge their eyes out after, of course.”
Of course. You reach out in agreement with a smile on your face.
“Speak, my darling. I want to hear your pretty voice.” Astarion gathers you between his legs, your back to his chest as he wraps his arms around you and cradles you to him. He’s still trailing kisses wherever he can: your neck, your shoulder, your cheek, your ear.
“Sorry. Habit.” It was a habit, but nowadays, it was more of a preference.
“You needn’t apologize, lover,” Astarion rests his head on your shoulder, breathing in the scent of your skin. “I’d like you to attend the meeting with Lae’zel with me.”
You needn’t be anywhere but right by my side. Lord Moth’s estate was attacked again. A few of his spawn were killed.
Well, that is far better than being locked in the boudoir, you think. “Of course I’ll come with you.”
After a moment, you speak again. “I can’t believe she’s still alive. I thought all our past friends were dead.”
“Me too. From what I can recall about Lae’zel, it was ignorant of us to think that woman could ever die.” The two of you giggle as you reminisce on old adventures, the ones Astarion is willing to dwell on, to enjoy.
Astarion doesn’t mention his jealous feelings about Lae’zel’s sudden reappearance, but you feel it in his actions as the two of you spend the rest of the day in bed; he takes you again, biting you in places he had never before, coming in every hole of yours that he could, until you were well and truly taken and used.
Eventually, the two of you drift off in each other's arms, as you always did. But your lasting thoughts are not on blood, fear, or Astarion’s cock (well maybe a little bit), but on the ‘why’ of Lae’zel’s return. Astarion shares in your anxiety, but assures you to be patient, as all will be revealed on the morrow.
Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5. Chapter 6.
Masterlist
#ascended!astarion#astarion smut#astarion bg3#Ascended Astarion x reader#Ascended Astarion x tav#Ascended Astarion x you#astarion x female tav#lae'zel is also here lol#soft ascended astarion#lord astarion#spawn tav#astarion#vampire tav#ascended!astarion x tav#astarion x female reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion x reader#Killing Time
290 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spawn!Tav v2
#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion#spawn tav#vampire spawn tav#ascended astarion#art#oc#original character#artist#artist of tumblr#lawv no#digital art#art print#to be#clip studio paint#character art#vampire#full illustration#astarion x tav
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Consort ₊⁺જ⁀➴
NSWF | Explicit 18+ | Angst | Blood | Ascended Astarion | Spawn Tav | Dark | Smut | Trauma | Stockholm Syndrome | Violence
Ascended Astarion x fem Tav
Chapter: 2 | Red Is Traditional
Summary: In a tumultuous tale of love, power, and betrayal, Tav finds herself entangled in a complex relationship with Astarion, a heartless vampire lord who will stop at nothing to maintain control over his newfound spawn. As Tav witnesses Astarion’s transformation and descent into darkness, their love is put to the ultimate test amidst love triangles, drama, and the pursuit of world domination. Redemption seems like an elusive goal while Tav grapples with the realization of who her lover has truly become.
UPDATED EVERY MONDAY
AO3 LINK | MASTER LIST
Lovely photo by @aristenfromwarsaw
"Wake up." Tav was shaken awake by Astarion. She rubbed her eyes and looked up at him, confused.
"What's going on?" she asked. Her eyes darted to the window and the sun was slowly settling down into the horizon. Astarion was usually in the palace by that time, with no intentions of leaving.
"Don't question me, just get dressed," Astarion said, passing Tav an embroidered black cloak. "We must hurry before it gets too late and the shop closes."
Tav's eyes widened. "oh - okay." She sat up from the bed and hurried to put on the luxurious cloak and slippers. "Is there something going on..?" Tav stumbled as her finger got snagged while trying to slip on her flats.
"Wait," Astarion held Tav by her shoulder as she fixed herself. "You need to drink this first." He reached for a glass cup sitting on their bedside.
The thick liquid of blood filled the brim of the cup. It was darker in color than Tav's freshest pint of the slick, but he was right. She needed to eat before starving herself.
As Tav gazed at the glass in front of her, a look of disgust crossed her face. With a swift motion, she pushed it away, “I don’t want it..”
Disgusting.
Astarion’s expression shifted into a frown, his eyes reflecting a hint of anger, "You can eat all the food you want, but we both know it'll never give you the proper energy your body needs."
With a subtle yet commanding gesture, he pressed the glass against her lips, his tone firm yet strangely alluring. “Drink.”
She held the glass lightly and sipped the thick dark slick. It coated her mouth in a bitterness that turned Tav's face sour.
"It's bitter," she coughed, dabbing away the excess spill from the corners of her lips.
"It's old," Astarion continued. "But it'll give you some energy."
Astarion had to bottle animal blood for Tav, and not every day was a successful catch.
Tav took another sip and forced it down. It tasted awful, but it did give her a little energy.
"Okay," she said. "I'm ready."
Astarion studied Tav's face, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. He cupped her cheek, pressing his thumb against the smeared blood on her lips. "You're a mess," he chuckled, his voice low and playful. "But you look so beautifully delicious."
He leaned over and licked the traces of blood left on her skin, pressing his lips into hers in a small kiss. Tav willingly opened her mouth, her heart pounding. She could feel his tongue against hers, and the taste of his kiss was intoxicating.
Astarion pulled away, his eyes still locked on hers. "Now we can go."
Tav nodded obediently, her mind still reeling. Her chest pounded with a heat that burned from the absence of Astarion's touch. She had never felt so alive.
They left the palace and headed to the market. Tav held onto Astarion’s arm as they walked down the familiar streets of the lower city.
"Where are we going?" Tav pulled her cloak's hood over her head, shielding her from any light left in the horizon.
"Fabrics. The party is formal attire and I wanted you to wear only the finest material." Astarion guided Tav up the ally ways and she gazed up at him, face flushed.
"Are you going to...sew me a dress?" She tried to peek up at his face, and when his eyes caught hers, he nodded once with a smirk on his face.
The rush of warmth squeezed Tav's chest and her smile beamed brighter than any star in the sky. Tav knew Astarion was a skilled sewer, but she had never seen it for herself. This felt special.
The city was still under construction from the Netherbrain and it was kinda sad to see all the rubble piled up in front of destroyed buildings.
Astarion tugged on Tav's arm as she got caught between her feet staring out at the ruins of what was once a grand city.
“Come now, my dear," he said with a stern lilt to his voice, "We're almost there." He too looked at the rubble, remembering how weak and helpless he had felt back then. But now, he was stronger than ever.
With a small jingle of the door, a wave of natural fibers hit Tav and Astarion. The countless rows of material covered the walls and the store clerk greeted them,
"Good day!" The clerk's eyes sized up the couple and his eyebrows perked up. They looked expensive. "Looking for something as flawless as you two?"
Tav cracked a shy smile, her elf ears dropped with reddened tips. She waited for Astarion to speak, "Yes. I want nothing but the best."
The clerk's smile widened and he guided them to a section of the shop with a wave of his hand, "Of course! I have the finest material all available to the likes of you. Here - take a look."
Tav eyes trailed down the rows of fabric, and one caught her eye. A purple velvet material. It was soft to the touch, stretchy, and rich in color.
"Astarion, look how pretty." Tav rolled out a piece of the velvet from the roll, face flushed with amazement.
Astarion’s face turned bitter and he shook his head, "No, darling. Just feel how heavy it is. Do you really want to drag this dress around?" He scuffed, how foolish.
"I suppose..." Tav rolled the velvet back with a sigh. "I thought it just looked pretty."
"What you thought and what is true are two different things. Now - let us take a look at this." Astarion rolled out a silky red fabric with a glint of approval in his eyes. "Now this is something worth our attention. Red is traditional after all."
Tav hummed with a nod, yes it really was beautiful. Maybe he was right, the velvet would be a heavier material.
"That is our mulberry silk. It is made from the cocoons of silkworms. It is one of my finest materials in all of Faerun, everyone will know its worth just by its look and feel."
The feel? Tav would be wearing it and there's no way he'd let anyone touch her under his watch. Astarion frowned, "No one will be touching this material except me." Jealousy blurred his vision for a moment before clearing his throat, "This will be all."
The clerk's worried expression landed on Tav. It was like he was trying to telepathically send red flag signals to her, but alas, she knew this side of Astarion too well. And sometimes it was very abrasive.
To cut the tension, Tav spoke out with excitement, "Well! it's very beautiful. Thank you for your time, sir.
~
As they walked home, Astarion noticed the admiring glances from other prying eyes as they passed by, and a flicker of jealousy crossed his face.
It wasn't Tav's fault she was unique in beauty. She was definitely foreign in appearance compared to the city’s people. She bared clear crystal white eyes, that were eerie yet captivating. Growing up, the wood elves thought she was born blind, but it was just genetics. She looked ghastly with dark glowing skin like licorice and had long messy locs. Her hips were fuller than most, with petite shoulders. Even in a cloak, she shined in the crowd. Nothing could mask her beauty.
She was Astarion's vision, his muse.
He subtly tugged at Tav’s arm, a gentle yet possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. Tav turned to him with a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling mischievously, "Jealous?"
Tav shrugged, she was used to people staring at her.
“Tav,” he murmured, his voice laced with possessiveness, “When people stare, they'll know your mine.”
Tav stopped in her tracks, turning to face him fully. She reached out to gently cup his cheek, her gaze unwavering. “You have nothing to worry about, my dear vampire,” she assured with a grin. “I have eyes only for you.”
Astarion’s expression softened at her words, a rare smile escaping his lips as he shook his head amusingly. “You are daring, my dear spawn. But I suppose I am reassured by your words.”
There’s no need to be jealous when he consumed so much of her already, mind body and soul.
Tav tried to pull his face into a kiss, but she was stopped mid-gesture. Astarion grabbed her wrist, and he loomed over her with dominance, "Now, now. We must save our energy. I still have to take your measurements."
Tav yanked her arm away from Astarion, slightly rubbing her wrist, "I really don't like when you grab me like that, Star." She felt a little crossed.
He leaned in closer to Tav, his voice low and seductive. "On the contrary, you do. It's Just when you're not on your knees is when it is a sudden problem."
Tav raised an eyebrow, looking slightly offended but also amused. She crossed her arms and scoffed.
“Oh, is that so?” Her tone teased. Despite the provocative comment, she refused to let Astarion’s charm rattle her composure. She met his gaze head-on, unflinching and bold.
“Well, if you think that’s a problem, maybe you’re just not used to someone who can stand tall in your presence,” Tav batted her eyelashes in amusement.
Tav took a step closer to Astarion, their faces merely inches away. “But don’t worry, I’m sure we can find a way to work around that little issue,” she added with a wink.
Astarion’s lips curled into a smirk, “That mouth is going to get you in trouble.”
He was entertained and impressed by Tav’s cheekiness. Without missing a beat, he reached out and grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Come now, Let’s not keep the night waiting any longer,” He appreciated her daring nature and found himself drawn to her fiery spirit.
But in the back of his mind, Tav would have to suffer punishment for speaking so rashly to her master. In all due time, of course.
Next part here
Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!
See ya next Monday ( for a smutty chapter! ;p)
I'm posting chapter 3 NEXT NEXT Monday (March 4th) since I couldn't wait to get this out. and then I should be able to stay consistent every Monday since I have a few chapters already written up :D
#The Consort#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3 tav#bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion bg3#astarion acunin#astarion x tav#astarion angst#astarion fanfic#astarion smut#astarion x reader#astarion#astarion series#ascended astarion#spawn tav#Spotify
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
The fucking parallels.
I see you Larian.
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion my beloved#bg3 tav#astarion romance#astarion#bg3 spoilers#astarion x reader#astarion and tav#astarion ascended ending#astarion spawn ending#spawn tav#spawn astarion#ascended astarion#ascended astarion is an asshole#Spawn Astarion is also an asshole but he's and asshole who cares#my bby
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
Burn (Ascended Astarion animatic)
youtube
THIS.
#not my art#but my gods I wanted to share it#astarion#tav#ascended astarion#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate#bg3#bg3 animatic#animatic#spawn tav#hamilton#burn#burn animatic#hamilton burn#Youtube
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
We Were Human
Pairing(s): Ascended!AstarionxReader
Part 5:
Synopsis: Astarion died as soon as he became something the world has never seen before. No one noticed the damage before it was too late and the Astarion everyone loved was lost to the new one. No one could notice when the turn was slow and silent. He slowly lost the playful glint in his eyes. Lost the love he gaze upon me with. Lost everything that made him the man I loved. Oh, how I would give anything to get him back. I would gladly give up my damned soul for him.
Aka you are transported back to the past in order to prevent ascended Astarion from losing himself the only problem? You don’t have a lot of time.
-
Warnings: Gore, blood, cruelty, cursing, death/murder, mentions of using oneself unwillingly, abuse, mentions of torture. It's ascended Astarion, prepare for the worst.
Masterlist
Note(s): For the sake of the plot- Astarion will not automatically be damned from the start. In this world, Astarion becomes lost to the ascension overtime until he becomes the ascended vampire we know him to be in the game. Another note that should be highlighted is that this story will be told from the first person perspective since it benefits the story more than any other perspective.
You will also notice various things being different from the game. For example, Karlach will be able to stay in the ‘human’ world and she fixed her heart. (I love my girl, I’m not sending her back), Szaars palace has a different layout cause the one in the game was stupid. There will be more that you will notice in the future so beware.
Thank You.
It’s just my luck for this to happen to me. Earlier, the sky had been a clear azure, but it rapidly transformed, now brooding with dark, menacing clouds that swallowed the sun whole. Adding to the irony, I found myself in the hands of the very goblins I was trying to reach before Astarion. I suppose that it was both unlucky and lucky at the same time. As I was led through the goblin camp- well more like forced to walk around unless I wanted to get impaled by a feisty goblin with a spear behind me.
My capture had happened in a blink- an unexpected encounter with a goblin patrol while I was attempting to trail Astarion. I was just grateful that they decided to ask me what I was doing there instead of attacking right then and there. The charisma that I had harnessed over the months of lying to get past the people I wanted coming in handy.
All it took was telling the goblins I was there to join their cause and they quickly ushered me deeper into the forest. It didn’t take long to reach their base, the base hidden within the heart of the dense forest amidst the labyrinth of towering trees and verdant undergrowth. Their stronghold was cunningly concealed within a labyrinth of towering trees and lush undergrowth. The settlement was fortified by a wall made of both felled and living trees, an organic barrier that melded seamlessly with its surroundings. Under the dense canopy, daylight struggled to penetrate, the impending storm turning the sky even darker above us, the air heavy with the promise of rain and thick with the scent of smoke.
The familiar chatter and beating of drums sounded in the air, merry songs muddled with the shouts of anger, excitement, and drunkenness. Passing through the gap of the wooden wall, my nose wrinkles in distaste with the onslaught of goblin smell. I don’t know what I expected and I had no other words to describe the smell other than the smell of multiple things rotting. The camp was a chaotic jumble of makeshift shelters crafted from scavenged materials, standing stubbornly against the elements. There are several crude pits of fire, casting flickers of shadow that dance across goblins faces. Goblins either lounged inebriated, feaster noisily, or darted about with frenetic energy. The center of the camp is filled with a large ramshackle tent, its fabric patched with various patterns and frayed from use. Surrounding the main tent, are smaller shelters, most being lean-tos made out of fallen sticks and thin logs.
As I am led to the main tent, goblins gaze upon me with a range from sneering to curiously probing. I stumble slightly as I am harshly pushed into the tent, the flaps of the entrance being pulled back by a grumbling goblin stationed there. I squint against the difference in lighting of the tent. Inside, the tent was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the gloomy daylight outside. A few feeble candles flickered, doing little to dispel the shadows.
Then, from the depths of the tent, a voice broke the semi-darkness, rock and mocking. “Ah, what a surprise to see you here, hero of Baldurs Gate.”
Recognition from the voice alone caused my eyes to widen in surprise, of course I showed mercy when everyone else in the team advised against it and it has finally come to bite me back.
“How am I not surprised that you are the one causing trouble, Dror Ragzlin.” I scoff, my eyes adjusting enough to discern his looming silhouette. “Why persist in these schemes? The Absolute is gone, and it was never a god to begin with.”
As he paced the tent, my gaze followed his movements intently. He released a harsh laugh, the sound sharp in the quiet of the tent. “This isn’t about the Absolute anymore,” he declared, his voice echoing slightly, the raucous din of the goblins outside muted by the tent’s thick fabric. “It’s about revenge for what you did to me.”
I rolled my eyes with a scoff, hands landing on my hips. “Seriously? You’re lucky I spared your life!”
“You should have killed me!” He retorted vehemently. “Do you know how hard it is to deal with the embracement and shame of mercy? Death would have been a kindness.”
His words stunned me into silence; this man's foolishness was astounding. Shaking my head in disbelief, I sighed, “You can’t seriously believe that. It’s absurd. Instead of turning your life around, you persist in the very actions that led you here.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I muttered, “Looks like I might have to finish the job this time.”
Dror’s chuckled was deep and unsettling, sending shivers down my spine.
“That-” He paused, the sounds of feet shuffling against the floor of the tent alerted me.The candles flickered out one by one, their light succumbing to the growing darkness, leaving only a solitary flame to my left. My muscles tense, my hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at my waist as I prepared to summon a flame to light the room. But before I could act, the tent flap burst open, flooding the space with blinding daylight.
I recoiled, realizing just how close Dror Ragzlin had approached; he was only a few steps away from me, easily within striking distance. He wasn’t alone; several goblins lined the walls, their grins menacing in the dim light. A nervous breath escaped me, aware of how perilous my situation might've become had we not been interrupted.
Dror Ragzlin snared, looking at the goblin that opened the tent. She was hunched over, breathing heavily, the beads in her hair clinking softly. Shadows played across ehr form as she struggled for breath under the harsh outside light.
“I’m sorry, sir.” She gasped, voice hoarse, “It’s just that-” She paused to clear her throat again, the urgency in her eyes unmistakable.
“Spit it out already or the next breath you take will be your last.” Ragzlin snarled, his sharp teeth catching the harsh light gleaming in.
The goblin took a deep breath, stammering as she replied, “Someone has broken into the camp and is slaughtering everyone!” She exclaimed, her voice trembling with urgency as she fixed her gaze on Dror.. “We’re losing warriors by the dozens. No matter how we retaliate, he just carves through us-as if we’re nothing.”
My eyes widened at her words- she said him.
“What did he look like?” I demanded
Both Dror and the goblin shifted their attention to me. The goblin’s mouth opened, but Dror’s stern look silenced her. “I…don’t know,” she murmured, her voice strained as if honesty caused her physical discomfort-a surprising notion of a creature usually so adept at deceit.
I shot an irritated glance at Dror. “What do you get out of not telling me?” I pressed, hoping my voice masked the creeping dread I felt. If it really was him, my fear was justified, yet I could not let that fear paralyze me. As I weighed my next move, Dror signaled subtly, and the armed goblins lining the tent’s edges swiftly departed, their faces set with grim determination, unaware of the slaughter that likely awaited them.
Dror lifted the tent flap, the female goblin hovering behind, poised to follow.
“Stay put, or things will get worse for you,” he warned.
I fought the urge to respond sharply, my throat tightening with fear. The mere thought of facing him again, after our earlier encounter, dredged up nightmares I had long tried to suppress: memories of being pinned down, cut repeatedly as my own vampiric blood fought to heal the wounds only for them to be reopened- him observing, a grotesque smile playing on his lips while adoring acolytes clung to him as though her were a deity. The memories of unbearable hunger twisted my stomach; I had been so famished I thought of ripping out my own entrails, but I couldn’t, no matter how deeply my nails dug into my flesh. I could never bring myself to do it. His laughter echoed in my mind as he once forced me into sunlight, my skin bubbling and dripping off my very own bones, until he forcefully dragged me back to the shadows and forced me to drink blood in order to continue living for his own pleasures. Resistance was useless; his compulsion was absolute, leaving me powerless and broken.
An ear-piercing scream shattered my descent into the past, reverberating through the goblin camp. I stared, wide-eyed, at the tent flaps, the chaos outside syncing with the pounding in my ears. I had to stop him, but the enormity of that task loomed over me now.
“Stay Away.”
Astarions voice suddenly rang in my ears. His body doubled over, grappling with an unseen agony. Stay Away. He told me as he shuffled backwards, his eyes wide not with fear of me but of what he might do to me. He was battling something internal, perhaps his very nature. .
Without fully processing my decision, I bolted from the tent. The scene outside instantly froze me in my tracks. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood mixed with the acrid stench of burning flesh. Fire rampaged through the camp, casting wild shadows as panicked goblins scrambled, desperately seeking a way to overcome an unstoppable foe. The carefree revelry I had first witnessed was annihilated, replaced by sheer survival.
A goblin darted past, arms laden with weapons, oblivious to my presence. I trailed him, cautious of becoming an unintended target. It wasn’t long before I encountered the epicenter of the carnage.
There he stood in the midst of it all, his figure shrouded in a macabre cloak of crimson. Fog crawled along the ground, cloaking everything in a deceptive calm. Blood, dark and viscous, coats his skin in a mosaic of pain and violence. It drips from his moonlight hair in rivulets, staining his features with a grotesque mask of beauty. At his feet, a sea of bodies formed a grim carpet.
His movements were eerily calm as he lifted the severed head of Dror Ragzlin by the hair. The morning light filtered through dense clouds, casting a pale glow on his teeth as they parted slightly. I watch in silent horror as he tilts his head back, blood dripping into his mouth, some missing and streaking down his chin. His once vibrant clothing was now a sodden tapestry of dark stains, each a silent witness to his brutal deeds.
I was frozen, eyes flashing to what was before me. This is what happened in my previous life. This is what destroyed him. This is what I was meant to stop but- I was too late. A distant cry snapped me back to the present. He let the head drop, and it landed with a soft thud, swallowed by the fog. Nudging something with my boot, I bent down and recoiled as my fingers closed around the cold, severed head. I straightened, the dead eyes staring back at me, the mouth agape unbelievably wide in a permanent scream of terror.
Releasing a shaky breath, sweat beaded down my neck. I dropped the head, which hit the ground with another dull thud. Suddenly, the owner of the earlier battle cry materialized through the fog. He moves, a flash of violence as one moment an ax is raised and the nex it has raced through the air, the blade glinting ominously before embedding itself in the ground beside me, a green, bloodied hand still clutched around the handle. Blood slowly drips down the hand, creating small ravines of blood on the wooden handles.
Swallowing hard, I looked back through the fog, where he kneels before the goblin, both figures fading into the mist. The crackling of flames devouring the camp mingled with the ringing in my ears, overwhelming my heightened senses. I widened my stance, every nerve on edge, attuned to a danger I could not yet see.
My heart, though lifeless, threatened to burst from my chest as an arm encircles my waist, yanking me against a solid frame. A hand clamped over my mouth, stifling the scream that clawed its way up my throat.
He clicked his tongue, his breath warm and disquieting by my ear. “What are you doing here, pet?” he murmured, his voice a sinister melody that sent shivers down my spine. His fingers eased from my lips, tracing a path along my bottom lip and jaw before coming to rest ominously at the crook of my neck. I was in this exact position before but this time, it was different-cold and calculating. His grip on my neck served as a chilling reminder; it was not affection but control, poised to turn lethal with any misstep.
Gulping down the fear that thickened my throat, I mustered a facade of bravery. “I was-” My voice trembled. I moistened my lips, gathering the shards of my resolve. “Looking for you.”
Chuckle rumbled in his throat, amusement coloring his tone. “Looking for me? And why is that, pet?” The pressure of his fingers increased, pinching my skin, a pointed reminder of his dominance.
The truth of my next words could provoke his wrath, but silence was no longer an option. I had not returned from the past to quiver under his gaze; I had come to confront the past, to change him and to save us both. Pushing past the paralysis of fear, I declared, “To stop you.”
A hush fell, thick and suffocating. I waited, every nerve taut, for his reaction. Suddenly, he burst into laughter, the sound sharp and devoid of any real joy. He released me as he stepped away, allowing me to spin towards him, my breath catching at the sight of him.
Blood marred his mouth, his lips a grim canvas of crimson horror. The eyes that had once danced with vitality now shimmered with a void of emptiness, shadowed by unseen specters. His smile twisted cruelly, revealing fans slick with dark blood. His laughter subsided, leaving his chest heaving with its remains.
“No need?” I echoed, incredulity sharpening my voice. His eyebrow arched, a silent challenge. At that moment, my patience shattered. I wouldn’t let his menacing demeanor silence me. Gesturing to the chaos around us, I pressed on, “Look around you! All this carnage, this needless slaughter-this isn’t our mission. We were not sent here to massacre every single one of these goblins.”
His expression darkened, a storm brewing in his gaze. His lips twisted into a force scowl. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice resonating from deep within.
“I’m your wife,” I replied, the words stark and heavy in the air between us. Standing before him, the man who haunted my darkest memories, the distinction between him and Astarion was stark yet irrelevant in the face of my fear. A battle loomed-not just between us but within myself-and I clung to the hope that I would not falter.
“No.” That single word fell from his lips before his blood-stained hand clamped onto my cheeks, tugging with brute force to make me meet his gaze. He leaned in, our noses almost touching, his eyes drilling into mine with ferocious intensity. “You are my consort. Not my wife,” he snarled.
Confusion and anger knitted my brows together as I met his piercing stare. “Consort?” I echoed, my voice tinged with defiance. “Is that just another term to claim me as your spawn? Another way to soothe your conscience, Master?” Venom dripped from my words, mirroring the malice he often showed me.
A chilling silence followed my outburst. His grip on my jaw tightened, threatening to crush the bones-something only my vampiric blood prevented. Our eyes locked, unblinking until without so much as a twitch of his lips, he hurled me to the ground. The earth beneath me, muddied with gore and viscera, squelched under my weight. My hands and robe stained with the filth of battle, I hit the ground with a force that left my body aching, sure to bruise.
He towered over me, never stooping even as he gazed down at me as if I were beneath him. Tilting his head slightly, he seemed almost to savor the sight of me in such a depraved position. “It seems you do not know your place, Consort,” he scowled, the pure disdain in his voice unmistakable. “No matter,” he mused, his tone chillingly casual. “I know exactly how to teach you respect.”
A sinister smile curled his lips as he noted the confusion on my face. He lifted his gaze to the overcast sky, humming thoughtfully. “I wonder how long these clouds will shield you from your demise.”
Panic widened my eyes; his cryptic words hinted at a terrifying fate. The privilege of withstanding daylight was now revoked from me. My mouth opened, but words failed me. No plea for mercy would sway him, would save me from this man. Driven by instinct and terror, I scrambled to my feet, my hands reaching for the familiar strands of magic, the weave that had always been my anchor.
I chanted the cantrip for Misty Step, desperation fueling each repetition as I pulled on the weave, feeling it burn within me. It didn’t matter that the city was near, my life hung by a mere thread. No matter how far I got away from him, his laughter echoed in my ears like a harbinger of my doom.
Again and again, I casted the spell until I was sure I was sick. Even when my vision blurred from exhaustion, I muttered the spell under my breath. My body was soaked with my own sweat, tears of panic and despair flooding my vision. Even as I breached the city's walls, I didn’t stop; not when the sun was now at its peak and the clouds could no longer hold it back.
Spell after spell, I cast until sickness overwhelmed me. Even as my vision blurred and my body protested, soaked in sweat and tears, I continued to mutter the incantations. Finally reaching the city, I didn’t stop-not when the sun climbed higher, the clouds thinning dangerously. The previous gloomy weather seemingly disappearing with every passing moment.
Casting the cantrip, my feet landed against a tiled roof- choosing to avoid the crowd that could prevent me from making it to my destination in time. Only the footing on the roof slipped upon a loose tile. A raspy gasp was all that signified my fear as I plummeted down to the stone walkway below. A scream rang out from a passerby as I cracked, body wracked with pain, painting on the cold stone, my nails digging into the ground.
Every muscle in my body screamed, my eyes begging to close, to rest, yet I forced myself up. The fall had broken something within me, causing me to lose focus on simply casting and ignore everything else. I was too drained to tap into the weave, too weary to walk straight. I stumbled through the crowded streets, jostling against strangers, too parched and desperate to apologize.
I avoided the path that would lead me back to the crimson palace. It was perhaps a folly, but with my skin still crawling from the memory of pain and the muffle of fear clouding my senses, I couldn’t bring myself to return to the place he would inevitably come back to.
Seeking refuge, I made my way to the one place in the lower city that promised even a whisper of safety-a modest house tucked away in a secluded corner, home to a solitary resident. My steps faltered as I approached, my hand raised to knock but my strength betrayed me. I swayed, crashing heavily into the door and relying on it to keep me upright.
“Bloody hells!” came a startled voice from within. “I swear to the gods, I’ll bust your hea-Shit!” The exclamation cut off abruptly as the door swung open, and I nearly collapsed through the threshold. Warm arms quickly enveloped me, steadying my trembling form. “Woah, soldier, are you alright?” Karlac’s concern was evident, her face etching with more questions that seemed to dissolve into the thick air around us. Her words barely registered as the relentless grip of fear that had ensnared me, keeping my body awake, finally began to loosen. As darkness edged my vision, cloaking the world in shadows, a single, haunting thought pierced my weary mind:
Was I really meant for this?
#astarion#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3 fanfic#baldurs gate astarion#bg3#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 spoilers#bg3 tav#cw: gore#karlach x tav#karlach#baldurs gate gale#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate tav#baldurs gate iii#shadowheart#lae'zel#laezel#halsin#tav#bg3 gale#bg3 astarion#baldur's gate#gale#jaheira#ascended astarion#ascended astarion x reader#spawn tav#astarion x female tav
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ascended Astarion/Spawn Tav dark romance story culminating in Tav completing the cycle of abuse once more by killing Astarion and taking his place as the next miserable, abusive cunt in line. No healing just more tragedy and violence pls.
48 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
youonlyhavemetoblame
Boop!
itsbefour
rear view
hobicakess
hyung line shawty ᯓ★
xxslvncsr-blog
Selvina Casera
leonsgoretzka
The seasoning is on . Everybody calm down .