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simping-overload · 1 month

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ᴀ ᴛɪᴇꜰʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴛᴀɪʟ - ᴄʟᴏᴛʜꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀɪʟ (ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ)

a/n: a tieflings tail is a 10+ chapter series involving bg3 men and a variety of scenarios with tiefling tavs tail

tags: gn tav, tailor astarion, fluff, 531 words

synopsis: Astarion makes you a sleeve for your tail to keep it warm during the winter months.

『read on ao3』

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

Over the course of your adventures with your ever-growing group, Astarion appointed himself as the tailor. Stitching together any holes and tears, he’d find in someone’s clothing.

According to him, he refuses to allow himself to be seen with people who look like disgusting hobos.

He’s mainly self-taught, but after Halsin joined the party, he’s learning from him as well. Halsin himself was taught by his mother and, along the way, picked up more unconventional tricks when he looked after the children of the Emerald Grove.

You are his test dummy to try his newly found tricks on. Though, not only because you’re his lover, but because you’re usually the one who ends up with the most tears and holes in your clothes.

Just as you were now, standing in Astarions’ tent as he patches up your clothing. Some are from old tears, and others are from completely new ones in different places.

Astarion, per usual, grumbles out his disappointments. “By the gods’ love, can you ever just not rip your clothes to shreds anytime you leave camp?”

You suppress your shrug, wanting to avoid getting jabbed with a needle again. “Sorry, Star, we both know that isn’t possible.”

Astarion scoffs, rolling his eyes as he completes the last stitch. Stepping back, he tugs on the fabric, making sure his stitches are secure, and hopefully won’t be teared for at least another few weeks.

It doesn’t seem he’s done as when he stepped away to rummage through his belongings. You stay in your spot, tail curling in curiosity. He turns back around with a long piece of cloth in his hand.

“What’s that?”

“I’m not sure what to name it but, it’s for your tail. Since winter is nearing, I wanted to make you something for your tail. Just to keep you warm.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t need one. Since you're a Tiefling, your body heat was more than enough to keep you warm during the winter months.

“Thank you, Star.”

He hummed in response, pulling the long sleeve up your tail and fastens so it won’t fall off. He left a small hole in the end for the tip of your tail to poke out, since you’ve told him before you don’t like that part of your tail being surrounded by anything since it’s the most sensitive there.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. It didn’t look bad at all. The color compliments your skin tone. Twirling and moving your tail around, you get a feel for it. It’s quite comfortable against your skin and were you more susceptible to the cold, you’d for sure be able to keep warm with this.

You hop down from the stool, turning to Astarion. “I like this a lot, love and rest assured I will keep it intact.”

Astarion snorts, grabbing your hand and pulls you to him. “You better, or I’ll make sure you wake up bloodless the next morning, hm?” He teases.

You fake an offended gasp. “You wouldn’t dare.” Leaning down, you press your forehead against his.

“Oh, love, but I would.” He giggles and places a soft kiss on your lips.

#bg3 #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion and tav #astarion x tiefling #astarion x tiefling reader #tieflings #tielfing #tieflings tail #x gn reader #x male reader #astarion x male reader

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falling-heights · 2 months

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Ascended Astarion/Tiefling!Tav Pt. 3

Summary: You confront Astarion, and he reveals his plans

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Warnings: Astarion is a manipulative little shit, demeaning words and actions, power dynamics, gaslighting, abusive behavior. Not a happy chapter.

He did not respond at first, eyes lowering as he pondered something. After a few moments however, his smile returned, devilish enough to be mistaken for one, if not for the lack of horns. He mused to himself as he looked down at you, admiring the ensemble you had put on for him, seemingly pleased with it. He released his hold, beckoning you to follow him as he made his way back to the mahogany desk.

"Come sit, a poor thing like you must be exhausted from all that trifling chatter," His tone was patronizing, belittling. You hesitated to comply, causing his head to tilt once more. His smile faltered for a moment, becoming annoyed before the flash of his teeth returned. "My dearest, I'm afraid I haven't got the time for idle gossip. Unless, of course, you're too desperately lonely tonight to stand being unattended. I can fetch one of the spawn to indulge in-"

"I'm not..." You cut him off, laughing in disbelief, appalled at the thought. You remained where you stood, much to Astarion's displeasure. You were somewhat angry now, much of your hesitancy gone, allowing the words to slip out without much thought. "Speak honestly, am I so easy to brush off to you? That you would rather hand me off to one of your servants than treat me as your own?"

"Don't be stupid, my pet," His voice lowered dangerously, like a warning that you should tread carefully. His words sounded poisonous, laced with false sweetness. "You should be more grateful for what I've given you. We are so close to taking this city for our own, and yet you stand here to demand more of me? Tell me, then, what more can I give you? What more shall you demand until you are satisfied?"

You didn't respond, knowing it would further waste your time. You inhaled sharply, keeping your head held high. Red eyes watching your every move, narrowed and irate. You were dealing with a predator instead of your dear partner.

There was something about submission that seemed to give him purpose, as though he sought to exhort it in everyone he ever met. A part of you knew it would be easily to simply surrender yourself to him, but you would not bend so easily to him. If you could deny yourself your inheritance, reject the very blood that conceived you, you could just as well resist a vampire ascendent's temptation.

Denying Bhaal, denying your Urge, killing Orin, all of it allowed you to begin a new life, free from any sort of expectation. A life you had once hoped could have been shared with the one you chose to love. However, you would not allow yourself to repeat the cycle of control. If your lover sought to dominate you rather than play an equal part in your life, then you would simply continue it without him.

His eyes wondered for a moment, reading your face before again scrutinizing your figure. Finally, he sighed, lips twisting into a knowing grin.

"Darling, you taunt me so cruelly," His attention turned away from you to his desk. Various papers and documents were scattered in a messy, yet organized manner. Trade deals, guilds contracts, events within the city. He was networking, garnering trust amongst the most influential parties, securing his seat amongst them. There were very few times he actually allowed you to look through the various annals, though that did not stop you from allowing yourself access every now and again. Manners were kept to a degree, if nothing more than to respect his privacy, but his need to keep his ordeals a secret made you question his intent.

"You might find this particular arrangement interesting," Astarion sifted through the stacks of sheets, leafing through them looking for something specific. He hummed as he found what he was looking for, raising a singular slip of paper, holding it out to you, though demanding that you approach to take it. You obliged, approaching him quietly to take it from his hand. You gave him a cautious look before grasping the paper. Confusion washed through you as you read the scrawled words.

"What is this?" Various names of well-known patrons were written on the page, along with every asset they owned. Brothels, bank vaults, ship ports, temples, every shop and trade that they sponsored; all neatly arranged and documented, with the value of each labeled. You looked up at him for an explanation, but he looked expectantly, waiting for you to continue reading. One particular location stood out to you above everything else: the House of Grief. The Sharran temple had remained barren since it was decimated by your companions.

"This, little gem, is the final motion," He gently took the paper from your hands before you were allowed to look at it any further. His hand lifted to play with your hair, seemingly engrossed in its silkiness. "I've been tracking the ventures of our dear friends in the upper city. Every coin they bleed from this city, every person they commission, every inch of property they've acquired. I can place each and every name by its worth into a single number."

He positioned himself behind you, pulling your waist against his, and wrapping his arms around your torso in a tight embrace. Proximity to him felt alien compared to anyone else. He was never warm, physically. Sometimes it felt like being pressed against a stone wall.

"I told you we were close…" He brought a hand up to caress your neck so delicately. "Tell me, my dear, who do you think has the most influence over this city?"

"Whoever controls the most resources," A ripple of goosebumps erupted from his frigid touch as you spoke quietly. "And whoever has the most connections."

"Good girl," He leaned down to kiss your neck lightly. He pulled away after a singular peck, placed knowingly against a spot he once loved to suckle. His voice was low. "You've always been a clever little soul."

He released you then, suddenly, as though nothing had happened to begin with. It left you frazzled, nervous. He was teasing you, it was more than obvious, but it was working all the same. How bitter it felt to still crave the touch from something that left you feeling scorned. As though his fingers bled into you like daggers, and you wished for it all the same.

"Not far from now, I shall invite each name on this list to celebrate a newfound partnership, or sorts," He held up the paper once more, an uncouth look in his eyes. More hungry and eager than you had seen in a long while. "I will gift them what every slimy little pig with coin dreams of, and we shall reap upon their fortunes together, my love."

"You're going to turn them?" The response to his plan sounded more condemning than you intended, but it didn't match the confoundment you felt. "You're going to turn the most egomaniacal, power-hungry people in this city into spawn? Are you mad?"

"Oh come now, this is quite tactful," He laid out more documents, revealing contract after contract that would essentially give him dictatorship over each and every resource within the city. From agriculture, black markets, commerce of industrial goods, even to the guilds. All of it would be under his control. He wasn't just going to stop there, you realized. Guilds had little influence aside from corruption and intimidation. It would take him years to make enough spawn if he wanted to overthrow the any sort of established order. But if he hired Nine-Fingers to provide him arms, then he wouldn't have to wait at all. "You couldn't possibly have expected me to enter this game fairly, did you? Did you want me to wait another hundred years so I could slowly do what I can do now in a single night?"

"What about the Flaming Fist?" You asked earnestly. "You can't seriously expect Duke Ravengard to give you sovereignty?"

"You have far more faith in the stability of the Duke and his infantry. He is simply another wrinkle that needs ironing out if this is to go smoothly," Astarion seemed indifferent to it all, musing to himself as though he were excited to see its downfall. "The Duke has been replaced before, I'm sure you remember it well. You helped in it after all, even if you can't remember."

Your nose wrinkled at his remark. He should know better than to bring up that time, as though your past actions didn't haunt you any less then than they did now.

"I do not plan to fail where Gortash did, however. He had the support of the public, but nothing with structure. I, on the other hand, will have every significant figure at my disposal," He discarded everything back onto the table, leaning over it calmly. "I think it will all be rather easy, in the end."

"You're going to overthrow the entire system? The Duke?"

"Well, I would like to try and persuade him first," He mused, relishing at the thought. "But, I suppose that's a simpler way of phrasing it."

"You're not being serious," You looked at him with wide eyes, almost wanting to laugh at the mere idea. "Do you understand how much dissension that would cause? You intend to unseat not only the Duke of the city, but Wyll's father? What is he meant to do?"

"Dear Wyll has poor taste in companions. He always has, I'm afraid," Astarion examined his nails, cleaning what little dirt may be beneath them. "His own folly will not stop me from claiming what is owed. In fact, I just had a thought-- he would make for a most delicious steward, don't you think-"

You were quick to descend your rage upon him, raising your hand to lay a singular unbending strike across his virtuous face. Your head shook with fury, nose scrunched further in disgust. His head twisted upon the impact, surprise riddled all over his gorgeous face.

"He was your friend. They all were, how can you talk about any of them like that?" You hissed, craning your neck up at him. When his head finally returned to meet yours, a furious hatred gleamed within his eyes, hotter than the hells. His teeth glistened upon the grimace that twisted his features. You sighed, finding that your distress was not waning. "I don't know what I expected from you when you promised me the city. I was too naïve to take you that seriously, too blinded to see what would happen to you in that pursuit."

"I don't need to take take this from the likes of you," He stood straight, gaining advantage over you in height alone, and towering over you. His shadow obscured every inch of your figure, and in his shade, you were consumed. However, you ignored him, continuing to prattle your convictions like a saint.

"We've both changed so much since we came back to this city," You started, shaking your head, looking at him indignantly. You should have known better, it would have been much easier to have just left without a word. To have never started a scene, but you wanted closure. You wanted to ensure there was no chance that you would willingly return to the man before you. "You're cold, distant. You regard me with the same affection your spawn. You promise me everything except yourself. I hardly recognize you anymore. Not since Cazador--"

"Do not speak that creature's name." When he moved, you did not know, but it was quick and silent. One hand immediately latched onto your jaw, bruisingly tight, the other around your horn, much like a handle, holding your head in place. You tried to pull away instinctually, but his fingers curled around one of your horns, painfully straining your neck and pulling you back into place. The duress in his words sent goosebumps along your spine, and your voice caught in your throat. "That worthless memory should die like everything else that's in the past. You know better than that to test me, my heart."

"What is this even worth to you now?" Your voice was hushed, but angry. You held firm onto your resolve, if only dwarfed by his unnatural strength. "You said this wouldn't change you. It wouldn't change anything between us. You made a promise."

"I promised to give you everything, and nothing less. And just as I'm close to manifesting that, you have doubts?" Astarion's pull on your horns tightened, and he ignored the cry you produced in response. "You're fate is mine to decide. You made your choices, rejected your heritage, left all of it behind. What else do you have left but me?"

You lashed at him with your nails, trying to free yourself from his grip like a cornered animal. He ignored your cries of anger, only tightening his grip the more you struggled.

"No one cares about you like I do, love." Your whimpers melded into shallow sobs as his words bit into your heart. There were many emotions melding into your whole being. Hatred, fear, and in some sick masochistic manner, the love that still lingered. He hushed you quietly, pulling you into his arms once you stopped resisting his hold. His hand cradled your head as you clung onto his sleeves desperately. "You're lucky I chose you to be my consort. Who else would put up with your antics?"

In a moment of clarity, your sobs ceased, and you gazed up at him, finding his eyes to be all too passive.

"I think it would have been better to have killed you than to witness what you have evolved into," His hold stiffened, put off by the detached tone in your voice. "And yet I cannot let go, and your hubris is my undoing. Why do you think I put up with this torment?"

Your lips trembled, emotions finally catching up to your words as all of it welled up in your eyes. Your tongue clicked as a hurt gasp escaped your lungs, knowing this was the end of it all.

"I can't believe how stupid I was, thinking you would do anything but lie your way through everything," You shoved him away, gathering yourself once more, looking upon the disconcerted vampire with a passive sort of anguish. As though once again visiting the grave of someone once important. "This is nothing more than a sick perversion. I won't allow myself to be subjugated by you any longer."

You turned, leaving him in silence, keeping your resolve until you were far enough to be away from his eyes. They burned into you like hot coals with each step as you exited the study. Though you did not glance back. You would not give him the pleasure of seeing you cry again. However, you did not stop the tears from falling once you were safely distant from his presence. Disappointment mingled with the torture of it all. A small, pathetic little part of you still hoped that he would chase after you, apologize, and promise to make it all better. But no footsteps followed you down the halls. Nothing gripped you by the shoulders to turn you around as you made it all the way into the palace's kitchen. Where Moira stood solemnly, bag laid by her feet, quarterstaff in one hand, and cloak in the other.

You paused for a moment to look at her, thinking of all the lonely moments she had replaced with her company. She was not a friend, but something else. If nothing more, she was a reminder that you deserved more than what you were given, and for that you were grateful. You would have liked to thank her properly one day, but you doubted that you would ever see her again. She did not regard you with words, rather, she simply bowed her head as you wrapped yourself in the warmth of the cloak, knowing the truth as much as you. Instead, a moment of communal silence was shared, of respect for one another.

You stooped down to grasp the handles of the bag, hoisting it onto your shoulders, and exiting the palace through the servant's entrance. This forsaken place was behind you as soon as the air hit your face, now nothing more than a bad memory in hindsight.

Letting out a sniffle, you made your way into the dark streets of the city.

Now, your only concern was finding a warm place to sleep.

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