randompandabaewrites

[randompandabaewrites]

Blood Like Honey

Radioapple Week — Blood — Hazbin Hotel

Explicit: blood (duh), biting. Angel blood has healing properties.

//Inspired by the gorgeous art this lovely RadioApple week! First time I’ve participated in anything like this and holy shit this fandom is talented~ Song: Closer by Nine Inch Nails//

4.4k

Alastor slipped away from the frivolity in the freshly rebuilt lobby of Hazbin Hotel. Usually he enjoyed some revelry and clinking glasses after a hard fought victory—but as the night went on, he felt his ever-present grin start to wane. 

Because the radio demon had not won this day. 

Alastor’s eternal damnation had flashed before his eyes at the end of an angelic blade, and it seemed his humiliation would not soon be forgotten. The blessed wound seared through his chest even now, and when he lifted his hand from the breast of his crimson coat, and saw blood welled on his palm. 

The demon retreated back into the shadows before his predicament was noticed. 

With a flick of his wrist, Alastor attempted to vanish, to escape to the solitude of his radio tower. But his powers faltered, the darkness sputtering and depositing him unceremoniously on the second floor.

Alastor cursed his weakness with a hiss through his clenched teeth. 

His long fingers curled in the collar of his coat, summoning his sickly green magic to try to seal the wound once again as he leaned heavily against the wall that still smelled of fresh paint and plaster. 

His grin remained fixed, that twisted rictus gaze betraying nothing of the searing agony threatening to claim him. The Radio Demon would not be felled so easily, not by some sanctimonious prick and his holy tantrum. 

Alastor’s claws dug into the wall, charred magic sizzling from his fingertips as he fought to remain upright.

A ragged cough ripped through him, flecks of ruby speckling his lips as he tried to focus his gaze and his shadows upward. The radio tower was so achingly close, and yet leagues away with his powers in their current state. 

Alastor dragged himself to his feet. Forcing one foot step after another, an agonizing trek unmitigated by every shallow breath that felt like a new slice out of his torso. 

He stumbled, leaving a streaked, bloody handprint in his wake as he slid down to the plush carpet. 

The clack of approaching heels drew Alastor’s unfocused gaze—he had no desire for any company in this state, but hissed when he saw the shadow of his least favorite hotel occupant down the hallway. Lumbering into view with a casual, arrogant swagger came none other than Lucifer himself. 

The fallen angel paused mid-step, red eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the bloody trail. “Well, well...it seems someone had a bit too much ‘fun’ at the celebration.” His lips curved in an amused, like the sanguine stains were nothing more than spilled wine on the floor. 

Alastor forced himself to his feet, covering the bloody handprint he’d left moments ago. 

“Or perhaps the infamous Alastor can’t hold his liquor?” The petite blonde arched a single eyebrow and gave a smirk that the radio demon would love to rip right off of his face. 

“It’s remarkable how such a petite parcel can contain an astonishing degree of irritation.” Despite his predicament, Alastor couldn’t resist a taunting rasp. “I would greatly prefer the pleasurable company of the younger Morningstar.” Implication laced his tongue behind his manic smile, unable to help but needle a little more at Lucifer’s ego. Even if the jab was punctuated with a wheezing chuckle.

 Maybe he should be more concerned with self-preservation at the moment, but the searing pain was robbing him of his senses. 

The flair in the archangel’s eyes might just be one of the final joys Alastor had. 

“Don’t let the packaging fool you, pal.” The shorter man sneered, reaching for the lapels of Alastor’s coat—before slamming him against the wall with enough force to rattle the demon’s bones. “I pack quite a punch, enough to pick up your slack with Adam, remember?”

A pained shriek of static tore from Alastor’s throat, causing the lights in the hallway to flicker and the blonde to wrench his hands back. 

“What the fuck…?” Lucifer’s smug triumph morphed into stunned disbelief when he saw that his palms were slicked with blood. “What in Dad’s name happened to you?”

“I do believe you have just ruined my coat.” 

Realization flickered in the angel’s eyes as he stared at the scarlet stain marring Alastor’s chest and continuing to spread. 

“Fuck your coat, you’ve got an angel blade wound! You do realize that won’t heal, ever, right?!” 

“I was coming to that conclusion, yes.” 

Lucifer looked up at the demon that was now slouching down the wall with the effort to stay upright, seeing the hand print now smudge into the wallpaper behind him. 

 The angel seized the soaked edges of Alastor’s coat, wrenching the material apart and sending buttons flying down the hallway. The scarlet button down he wore was drenched in his dark blood, and Lucifer was about to rip that fabric away too—

When a long-nailed hands wrapped around his wrists. “It’s hardly decent to disrobe me without so much as a dinner invitation.” He teased with dark amusement despite his failing strength. 

“You are so about to take the cake in the ‘pride before the fall’ department, buddy.” Lucifer snapped. “You want me to heal it, I need to see it—unless you wanna bleed out in Charlie’s hallway.” 

“Funny.” Alastor’s smirk was a ghost of his typical smile. “I do suppose pride and exhibitionism go hand-in-hand, Your Majesty.”

With a growl of pure annoyance, Lucifer snapped his fingers, whisking them away from the hall in a swirl of divine light. 

When the demon could see again, he knew they were in the lavish yet garish confines of Lucifer’s sweet. 

The fallen angel released his grip, and Alastor crumpled gracelessly onto the plush sofa with a grunt that sounded like microphone feedback. Lucifer ignored him, pacing around his cluttered room to snatch up supplies. A basin of clean water materialized on the sofa’s side table, followed by a stack of crispe white towels. 

Alastor had just managed to sit up enough to watch the whirlwind of activity through narrowed eyes, his permanent smile and ominous slash across his paling face. 

“What exactly are you doing?” The radio demon asked, suspicion swirling in his eyes and his tone. “And, for that matter, why?”

Lucifer came to a stop in front of Alastor’s splayed legs, rolling up his sleeves to show the black skin of his hands went all the way up the elbows. He squared his shoulders “Are there radio dials where your brains should be—I said I was healing you.”

Alastor watched him with increasingly heavy eyelids. “The latter question remains; why? We’ve made no secret of of our disdain for each other—what’s your ulterior motive in not letting me die?” 

He spoke the words with his characteristic smoothness, belying the desperation and the toll the injury was taking on him. Each syllable strained him and the filter crackled at random. 

Lucifer rolled his eyes heavenward, as if entreating a higher power for patience. 

“Is it so damn hard for a demon to believe an angel just wants to help?”

Alastor answered with a derisive snort. 

“Fine…” Lucifer ran a hand through his blonde hair, mussing it, as he averted his gaze and folded his arms. “I have a reason. But it’s nothing to do with you, so can we get on with this?”

The radio demon continued with his pointed stare. He’d rather die than owe his skin to anyone else. 

Lucifer’s jaw tightened, visibly steeling himself, before something raw escaped in his expression. “Look, it’s because of Charlie.”

Alastor’s expression stayed painted on. 

“I’m still working my way into her good graces again, and for some reason, she likes having you around.”

Alastor blinked slowly, the rapid rise and fall of his chest the only indication of his surprise. Not surprise that the petite blonde was trying to win Charlie over—but that he, a demonic overlord, mattered enough to either of them to want to keep around. Sure, he’d tried to make himself invaluable to the princess, but clearly he’d failed during the fight to protect the Hotel. 

For an eternity, a heavy silence reigned between them, broken only by the faint crackle of radio static. 

Well, even if the angel was wrong, at least the demon would be alive to find out. 

Then, almost imperceptibly, Alastor inclined his head in a minute nod of acceptance. Lucifer’s shoulders sagged in naked relief.

“Thank fuck.” The angel sighed, rather dramatically. “Now, can we get on with saving your wretched life before I’m accused of ending it?”

Despite the fragility of his condition, Alastor’s permanent grin stretched taut with grim amusement. “Well...” A chuckle reverberated from somewhere deep within the demon. “When you put it like that...” With a magnanimous sweep of his hand that cost him precious agony, he acquiesced. “By all means.”

Lucifer wasted no more time, though his motions were just slightly more gentle than ripping Alastor’s clothes open in the hallway. 

He began to peel away the blood-soaked dress shirt and pushed his suspenders aside, exposing the gash across his chest. 

The radio demon stiffened, a low, warning growl reverberating from somewhere in his ribcage—but it was more instinct than true protest. Or, he couldn’t move to stop the angel’s movements.

As more of Alastor’s torso was revealed, the slashes and lacerations of various vintages across his ashen skin. 

Lucifer’s brow furrowed at the sight, but he made no comment. 

His dark fingers were already ghosting over the fresh, jagged wound with reverence, probing the ragged edges. Angelic poison pulsed and seethed. 

Alastor watched every move warily, radio feedback bristling like a impotent force field around him. 

When Lucifer’s palm pressed flat against his gory wound, the demon went rigid. Something…sparked between them. Their eyes met for a moment, energy igniting and crackling between them like a live wire. 

Before the demon could process, Lucifer was moving again. 

Alastor thought the magnetic feeling was fleeting and gone—until Lucifer swung a leg over his lap to straddle him. The demon recoiled with a sharp hiss of breath, every muscle gone taught. 

“What the devil do you suppose you’re doing?” he snarled through gritted teeth. “…darling?”

The angel shot him a look at the provocation, but his pulled focus pulled right back to the gaping wound in the demon’s chest

“Bracing you, because this is about to hurt, tough guy.” Lucifer said, calm as could be, reaching behind Alastor to grab the back of the sofa. “And I suggest you grab something—this is gonna fucking hurt.” 

Alastor’s arms felt too damn heavy to grab much of anything at the moment, and his dignity was suffering with the archangel so intimately in his space. He took the arm of the sofa, leaving his clawed hand resting limply on the cushion beside Lucifer’s thigh.

The angel’s warning became abundantly clear as his other hand pressed to the slash through Alastor’s flesh. 

A searing white light blazed and pain etched into every fiber of Alastor’s being. His teeth clenched so hard they might shatter—anything to keep the scream from clawing its way up his throat as holy fire lanced through his veins. The demon’s hands clenched on instinct, claws sinking into the nearest thing he could grab. 

Piercing the arm of the plush sofa, and Lucifer’s leg. 

Alastor’s bright red nails sank through fabric and flesh with sickening ease. 

The fallen angel hissed but refused to relent. His palms pressed harder, searing ever brighter, as he cauterized the divine wound with his own sacred power. 

Alastor’s awareness contracted into one agonizing pinprick of existence. The room around him roiled, chaotic colors and sounds and torturous sensations. 

Lucifer’s eyes blazed like a solar flare in the haze. 

Alastor’s claws shredded deeper, molten gold seeping from the ragged punctures and between his black fingers. 

But it was nothing, less than nothing compared to the scouring inside him. 

He was nothing but the agony. 

And, if there was one thing that Alastor knew well, it was agony and suffering. He’d seen hundreds, thousands of souls experiencing loss of life and limb—often at his own hand. 

Blood shed between two people was an excruciatingly intimate experience.

Alastor could feel it, even now, with this angel holding him together as he tore apart. Things he’d never felt. His was never the blood being spilled. Until now. 

“Nope, you’re not dying on me now deer boy!” Lucifer’s voice called him from the white void the demon had fallen into, the brilliance of the light blinding him with more torment. 

Someone yanked on Alastor’s antlers, tugging his head forward. Until he could smell apple sweet breath. Could taste it on his tongue. 

Then, as abruptly as it started, the ritual crescendo and fell. 

The brilliance subsided, leaving pulsating shadows dancing across the demon’s vision. He became aware that he was panting for every scrap of air, his chest spasming under the pressure of Lucifer’s hand. 

When Alastor’s eyes finally became useful, he found himself locked into the gaze of the devil himself. 

And Lucifer was looking at him with an expression he had never seen before. 

“There, easy big guy.” The angel’s grip moved from Alastor’s horns to cradle the back of his neck, laying him back gently against the back of the sofa…as if he were something worth treating with tenderness. 

Alastor blinked slowly at the ceiling of the room as his senses gradually reasserted themselves. 

The pain had receded, leaving a dull, throbbing ache throughout his body. 

Gingerly, he pulled his right hand from the remnants of the shredded sofa arm, drawing his fingers along the newly formed scar tissue. It tingled with residual celestial might, but the wound itself had finally closed. 

Knitted together and still giving a faint golden glow from Lucifer’s power. 

It was only then that the demon realized said fallen angel was still sat in his lap. A quip was on Alastor’s tongue, when his gaze drifted further downwards, to his claws still mangling the other man’s thigh. 

Lucifer’s pant leg was oozing trails of vibrant ichor, and the angel made no move to free himself from Alastor’s grip—though if he had, the demon’s instincts would never let him release his bleeding quarry. 

He could not help the smile that split his face, an unholy sort of rapture pulled from the depraved depths of his soul as he unsheathed his claws, just to see them dripping with divine blood. 

“Out of curiosity.” Alastor purred, feeling his darkness welling in him fresh and new. “How does an angel feel when we make them bleed?” his voice distorted with the return of his powers. 

“Huh?” Lucifer looked down at his leg, like Alastor’s morbid curiosity was only slightly of interest. “Cute.” 

Alastor blanched, his reverie broken as he stared at the blonde. And watched with utterly fascination as he casually swept a hand over his thigh—and the flesh mended and the blood seeped back into his alabaster skin. 

Fury and fascination ignited in the radio demon all at once. 

The angel stood, and the shredded fabric hung loose around his perfectly whole leg. “But it takes more than some demon’s claws to leave an archangel with a lasting injury.” 

Something in Alastor trembled. Not pain, not fear, but something far more…primal.

Lucifer was already busying himself darting around the room again, mopping up the blood—the demon’s, as it was ruby red. Perhaps a little slower than before, or perhaps that was Alastor’s wounded ego supplicating. 

Unbidden, Alastor raised his hand, examining the rivulets of golden essence dribbling down his fingers. His mouth watered. But he refused to indulge in that particular vice in front of the already smug angel. 

“Tell me, Your Majesty.” His voice was heavy even in his own flicking ears. “What am I meant to do with this?”

The archangel’s brows pulled, glancing at Alastor’s hand, before a lascivious smirk grew across his lips. Lucifer leaned back over him, closer to Alastor’s face than he allowed anyone else. “You should lick it off.” 

“I…beg your pardon.” Alastor jerked back, affronted. 

“Oh come on, what’s a little sanguivory for a demonic overlord?” He waved a dismissive hand. “I bet you’re into all sorts of weird shit”

Alastor felt his upper lip twitch with contempt. 

On the one hand, yes. On the other, fuck him. 

The demon flicked the blood off his fingers, flicking it back at its owner. 

It can heal you, you fucking pompous ass.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, his hand on his hip. “Don’t tell me you’re a straight from the vein snob.”

That struck a nerve. 

Alastor’s gaze narrowed dangerously as his smile carved deeper into his features. With a tilt of his head and a cock of his brow, he called the other’s bluff. “Afraid to lose any more blood, my dear?”

“Fuck you.” 

The demon was ready to give a laugh at the smaller man’s expense, when, when he had to hide the surprise before it could manifest across his face. 

Lucifer brought his wrist up, slicing across the artery with one of his razor sharp teeth. Golden ichor welled up instantly, trickling down the dark skin of his forearm. 

A wickedly beautiful sight, indeed. 

Alastor stared, stunned into a rare silence as the archangel offered his bleeding wrist. No demand given, no conditions set, and no chains attached. He couldn’t fathom it. 

Yet, there it hung between them, dripping celestial vitae onto the demon’s slacks. 

Alastor curled his long fingers around the angel’s fist, as if the offer may shatter and the hand wrap around his neck. The bright red eyes stayed locked on the angels, as his tongue flicked out to taste the first exquisite drop. 

The flavor was like nothing he’d tasted on Earth or in the pits below it. Rich, heady, sweet as nectar but far from the cloying sugar the demon despised. 

Distilled rapture, a taste of heaven without the affliction of holy light. 

A low rumble echoed from deep within Alastor’s chest as his gaze turned heavy-lidded again. He fastened his lips to the cut and drank deep. Savoring every drop. 

Lucifer shifted his weight from foot to foot, a shudder rippling through his slight frame at the feeling of Alastor’s lips. By the time the radio demon pulled back with a lingering swipe of his tongue, the wound sealed itself without a scar. 

“Satisfied?”

Alastor fixed Lucifer with a stare of unadulterated hunger.

 “Hardly.” 

The high of angelic vitality blazed hot in the demon’s veins. When the clawed hand reached for him, tangling in his vest, Lucifer wasn’t sure where that sinful mouth would land. 

Until lips crashed into his. 

That first kiss was a tangle of teeth and desperation. The thrill of the razor sharp and the sweetness of angel blood on his lips—until Lucifer’s forked tongue slipped into Alastor’s mouth, and sliced the inside of his cheek. 

The iron taste joined the nectar, sparking a groan of approval from the radio demon’s throat. 

Alastor’s shadows, fully restored, surged up to engulf them both, and yank Lucifer off of his feet. The tentacles slammed the angel bodily into the plush sofa. He let out a breathless laugh as Alastor loomed over him. 

“Why, Your Majesty. Letting a lowly sinner get you on your back?” Alastor purred, his knee wedging its way between Lucifer’s thighs. 

“Shut it strawberry pimp.” Lucifer shot back at him, grinning a challenge in his fiery eyes. “I’ve handled bigger and stronger demons than you.” 

Baring his teeth in a feral smile, Alastor leaned down until they were nose to nose again. “Is that so, darling?”

With a yank of clawed fingers, Lucifer dragged Alastor’s mouth back to his own in a bruising kiss. “Less talking,” he growled against those smiling lips. “More biting.”

A low, rumbling chuckle spilled from Alastor’s chest as he nipped sharply at Lucifer’s jaw. 

Merciless claws rent through expensive fabric shredding the archangel’s shirt and vest to bare his chest. Divine blood welled up in the shallow scratches, only to knit themselves closed before the demon’s eyes. Alastor’s gaze drank in every tantalizing inch of newly exposed skin with ravenous delight. 

He grasped Lucifer’s chin, tilting his head aside to expose the tempting column of his throat.

 For a breathless moment, the radio demon’s teeth hovered a hair’s breadth away, mouth aching with the urge to sink his teeth right into the vital artery.

But something held him back. Not the angel who was squirming all too willingly under him—Alastor found he couldn’t bring himself to risk draining this delectable wellspring entirely. 

An unexpected tendril of concern gave him pause as he looked upon Lucifer’s powerful yet achingly fragile form.

Instead, Alastor’s lips trailed lower, canines finally piercing that perfect pale flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder.

 A tremor ran through Lucifer’s body as he arched up into the vicious bite with a breathless keen of pure ecstasy. 

Hips rutted shamelessly against Alastor’s thigh, the hard line of the archangel’s arousal leaving the demon’s slack dampened.

Arousal made his blood impossibly, deliciously sweeter.

When the demon pulled back at last, a low rumble was rolling at a constant frequency from his chest, and he realized…he was purring. 

“My, my... Seems an angel’s ardor makes for quite the delectable vintage.” His smile was luminous. 

Lucifer could only pant softly in response, too lust-addled to muster words through the hazy fog of desire shrouding his senses, though he managed to raise one of his hands. 

Alastor realized only a breath before that the angel was snapping his fingers, divesting them both of the shredded remains of their clothing. 

The demon froze, feeling exposed yet again, and unsure what exactly he was meant to do next. Hazy with want for more, whatever more was. 

Lucifer’s hands scrabbled desperately at the demon’s shoulders, pulling him closer still until legs wrapped around his waist. 

The demon had half a mind to call his shadows and wrench the angel’s limbs away from him—but he didn’t want to. He’d never been so taken with someone, body and blood. When Lucifer’s fingers curled into his hair and pulled their mouths back together. 

“Just, move. Please.” The angel begged. Like music to the demon’s ears. He could very much get used to that pretty little sound. 

In one sinuous motion, Alastor rolled his hips, pinning the archangel bodily beneath him as their aching cocks ground together, slicked no doubt with their mingled blood.

 An unholy growl rumbled up from the very depths of his being in a resonant snarl. “Is this what you want, Cher?” The old, adoring term from his human life fell from his lips like honey. 

This Alastor could do. Rut gracelessly together, seeking their tangled pleasure, chasing it into the unknown. 

At last, Lucifer found his voice on a strangled groan. “Shut up and bite me already, you insufferable tease!” 

Well, far be it from Alastor to deny such an enticing demand.

He sank his teeth back into the base of the archangel’s neck, feeling the man arch into the pain and the drag of his mouth, writing desperately against him like a pinned viper. 

Alastor tasted the bliss in Lucifer’s blood before he was prepared to be sent tumbling into his own. 

When he finally surfaced from the haze of gratification, Alastor found himself sprawled bonelessly against the plush sofa cushions, every muscle deliciously lax

A warm weight pressed flush against his chest, and he cracked open one eye to find Lucifer draped over him in a tangle of pale limbs, clinging with surprising tenacity.

As Alastor made to extricate himself, the archangel merely tightened his grip with a soft protest. “Stay,” Lucifer mumbled, nuzzling closer with a contented sigh that ghosted over Alastor’s collarbones.

The radio demon arched one brow in faint surprise. “I’m not one for... cuddling, darling,” he pointed out, lips quirking in a wry smirk as he carefully peeled those insistent hands away.

But Lucifer was having none of it, stubbornly resisting Alastor’s efforts as he shot the demon an exasperated look through half-lidded eyes. 

“We’re naked and covered in each other’s bodily fluids, you really wanna leave now?,” he countered dryly. “I’m not letting you go anywhere just yet.”

Alastor held that pointed stare for a beat, considering.

 True, the archangel had not only saved his life by purging the angelic poison from his veins, but had freely offered his own sacred blood to aid in the healing. 

An act of vulnerability and trust that shouldn’t be taken lightly, even for one as distrustful as the radio demon. 

With a barely perceptible huff, Alastor relented, settling back against the cushions as Lucifer pillowed his head back into the man’s chest.

 Almost immediately, the archangel melted against him, one hand idly tracing the myriad of scars and old wounds that crisscrossed Alastor’s torso. 

He expected revulsion. For this to be the straw that made the unblemished angel finally pull away—Lucifer’s touch held only a gentle sort of curiosity, mapping out each ridge and valley with delicate fingers as though committing them to memory.

It should have set Alastor’s instincts on edge, allowing someone—an angel, no less—having such intimate access to his vulnerabilities.

 But, strangely, he found the soft caresses almost... soothing in their tender exploration. 

A tiny furrow formed between the demon’s brows as unease flickered across his features. This strange sense of comfort, of safety in the archangel’s presence... it was wholly unfamiliar. 

Unsettling. 

And yet, when Lucifer let out a jaw-cracking yawn and proceeded to snuggle closer with a contented murmur, Alastor couldn’t find it in himself to protest. 

Instead, his gaze drifted down to the faintly glowing imprint of the healed wound in his chest, the scar still ting/ed with a hint of liquid glow that seemed to pulse in time with Lucifer’s steady breaths.

Despite himself, the barest hint of a genuine smile tugged at the corners of Alastor’s lips as weariness began to tug insistently at his mind.

 Just this once, he decided as his eyes slipped shut once more. Just this once, he would bask in the warmth of this inexplicable connection. 

Consequences be damned. 

#yeah so communication issues in their future #I resisted a “what does this mean” moment #radioappleweek2024 #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #alastor #Alastor hazbin #radioapple fic #radioapple smutt #hazbin fanfic #radioapple #grayaceAlastor #biting #bloodplay #blood kink #angel healing #tw: blood

[randompandabaewrites]

Tantalizing Television

RadioApple with a side dish of static - Hazbin Hotel

Explicit: Teasing, jealousy, Vox kinda gets cucked, secretly!est RadioApple, (switches/verses.)

4.5k

//Just so happens I was gonna do this anyway, now it's radioapple week. So it's meant to be right XD first time writing these characters and this ship...and I decided to make it harder on myself. Inspired by an IG Reel by akrcos. So naturally the song is Neon Medusa by The Midnight//

In one of the far wings of the Hazbin Hotel, a translucent form flickered to life in a plush red room. 

The hologram glimmered and Vox smack a hand into his screen. “C’mon ya piece of shit, work.” The overlord grunted, his projected body covered with blue static as it tried to stay solid. 

His flat eyes blinked, before his trademarked grin spread across his square face—Alastor’s dark hotel room finally becoming clear. And Vox was finally inside it.

Technically.

“Let’s see what the pompous ass is hiding.” 

Vox’s projection drifted forward, his half-corporal boots making no sound on the plush crimson carpet. His feet tangled in something on the floor—because he was still getting used to walking without feeling his footsteps—and because the place was a damn mess. 

“So much for a fastidious freak.” Vox snickered to himself, only to hiss out more garbled curses as he reached out to a dresser drawer. His translucent cyan fingers passed through the handle once, twice, before he focused on solidifying just enough to grasp it. 

Thinking he just might spare the projectionist demon who sold him this janky spell, Vox rummaged through the drawer. Looking for anything embarrassing—or juicy—to hold over Alastor’s head. 

Instead, his hand closed around something small and rubbery. 

Vox pulled out a bright yellow duck. 

“What the hell…?” He muttered, in utter confusion, as he uncovered an entire collection of rubber duckies.

The TV demon let out a grunt of frustration, squeezing one of the blasted things in his fist, making his hologram flicker as the toy let out a shrill little squeak. 

“Well well well, what do we have here?” A mocking lilt startled Vox, causing the duckie to go bouncing across the floor. It landed right at the high-heeled boots of the King of Hell himself. 

Lucifer was leaning casually against the four-poster bedframe, arms folded, and a devilishly smug grin on his lips. 

“Ah! Y-your Majesty!” Vox panicked, nearly backing into the dresser drawer he’d just opened. He’d been ready to kick some ass, now he had to prepare to kiss some.

Damn projectionist told him he was going to the room where Alastor spent the most time, not the archangel’s bedroom! 

“An Overlord reduced to snooping through drawers?” Lucifer clicked his tongue, his smile nearly as sharp as Alastor’s. “My my hell really has gone downhill with you guys in charge.” 

Vox felt his signal glitch with panic. 

“Now, I know you’re not stupid enough to try to sabotage my daughter’s hotel with me in it, right?” Lucifer took a few steps forward, and Vox wished his hologram could just vanish into the wall, but he was stuck until the spell ended. 

“No no no Your Highness, I’d never!” Vox said plaintiff, throwing a hands to play up his innocence. “I was just looking for Alastor, you know, old rivals. Messing with each other…ha ha.” 

The truth sounded like a lame excuse when he was saying it to Lucifer. 

“Trying to find him in my room is a little under the belt, don’t you think?” 

“Below the belt…you mean?”

“What did I say?”

“You said this was your room, sire?” Vox demanded, his flat screen head snapping around. “Fucking projectionist piece of shit.” 

The fallen angel’s yellow eyes narrowed on Vox’s form. “You’re using a projectionist, are ya?” Lucifer grinned. “Oh, that’s an old school trick—I with an old weakness.” The angel raised his hand, and snapped his fingers.

“Shit!”

Glowing golden ropes materialized, binding Vox’s projection from chest to ankles, before a flick of the blonde’s wrist sent him flying into the plush chair by the rumpled bed. 

Vox thrashed against his restraints, his shape lagging and distorting where the binds held him. But even his real demonic body would be nothing against pure angelic power. 

“Sir! I mean, I’m doing you a favor.” Vox protested, unable to help himself but trying to gab his way out. “The projectionist—he sent me where Alastor spends the most time in the hotel.”

Lucifer raised his eyebrows, his black lips suddenly pressed into a line—like a toddler with a secret. Vox was too busy pleading to notice. “You realize this means Alastor must have been spying on you, right? So so I’m letting you know! No need to get your feathers in a fluff!” 

“I decide when to fluff myself!” Lucifer snapped back, before making a face. “That sounded wrong, didn’t it?”

Vox opened his mouth, only to have it filled with static.

“Yes, darling, it did.” When a shadow stepped up from the half-lit room.

“Well now, Vox. You’ve gotten yourself into quite a conundrum, haven’t you?” The radio demon’s eyes burned with amusement and his sharp grin grew impossibly wider as he took in the scene. “Delightful to see you stooped so low as to rifle through my rival’s chambers.” 

“Hold the fuck up.” Vox’s screen flashed red. “You’re calling him your rival now?” 

Alastor and Lucifer glanced at each other, the angel’s face giving away more than the radio demon’s ever-present grin. 

Vox was too outraged to notice. “We’ve been at each other’s throats for fucking decades and suddenly this guy waltzes in!” He thrashed against his binds again. “And you’re making enemy goo-goo eyes at each other?!”

Alastor’s glee was practically luminescent. “My my, I did take you for the jealous type. But this, my good man, is a new low.” He leaned forward, arms folded neatly behind his back as the light of Vox’s screen glinted off teeth—and he twisted the knife in. “Though I hardly need to look to the king of hell to find a more interesting company than your static-filled nuisance.” 

“You smug son of a—” Vox leaned against his restraint, ready to bash his monitor into Alastor’s face—when the radio demon was suddenly a safe distance away. 

Lucifer stepped in front of Alastor and stuck a sharp heel squarely into the captive demon’s chest. The hologram flickered, but somehow held, tied in place by the divine rope lashed around him. 

“Watch your tone, buddy boy.” Lucifer gave a contemptuous sneer, about as much as his diminutive form could manage. 

“Now, now. Where are your manners, my friend?” Alastor chided, practically gleaming with sanctimoniousness. He loomed just behind the angel, his red-tipped fingers curling over Lucifer’s shoulders in a way that was almost…no, it couldn’t be. This was Alastor. And Vox knew damn well the radio demon didn’t invite contact. 

“I do adore it when you are ruthless, Your Majesty.” Alastor’s voice had gone smooth, almost purring. 

Vox’s screen flashed, like his circuits couldn’t compute an obvious flirtation from Alastor.

Even if Lucifer’s answering chuckle and the tilt of his head towards the smiling demon brought their faces closer than Vox had ever seen a living being get to his old nemesis. If they were still alive.

“Well now, Alastor, you old dog,” Vox taunted, seeing Alastor’s ears flick with irritation. “If I didn’t know ya better, I’d say ya needed the King of Hell to fight your battles for you now.” 

The radio demon straightened up, stiff as a rod, and Vox knew he’d dug under Alastor’s skin. Lucifer bore his heel further into Vox’s chest. If this projected body could bleed, he might be already. 

“As ever, Vox, I am more than capable of handling you myself.” His smile twitched. “But why get my hands dirty when I can watch the master at work?”

“He’s your master now, huh? Is the untouchable Alastor cozying up to the big boss down stairs?” Vox snapped.

Radio static burst through the room. Alastor answered to no one. And no one would imply otherwise. But, before he could put the demon in his place, the angel in front of him had to go blustering and bleeding heart.

“Listen here, you big piece of shit!” Lucifer glowered, his red pupils disappearing in a terrifying radiance. “Say anything like that again, and I will personally ensure that you spend the rest of eternity in Hell’s deepest, darkest, shittiest sewer. Got it flat face?” 

The angel yanked the captive demon forward, until his projected form was glitching all out of shape. Lucifer, the sweet fool he was, looked up at the smiling demon like a cat that had presented him with a half-dead mouse.

Unfortunately, Alastor loved cats. And dying things.

He had to regain control somehow. And that meant reigning in the devil himself. 

“You say the sweetest things when you’re threatening my enemies.” Alastor’s slender fingers gripped Lucifer’s face, curling deftly around the angel’s chin, and pulling the blonde’s gaze back to him. 

It worked like a charm, perhaps too well. 

Lucifer leaned into the touch, his cheeks impossibly redder, and his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When he opened them again, they were filled with an emotion that even Alastor could not be prepared for. 

Leaving him unguarded for what happened next. 

Lucifer, the sweet fool that he was, surged forward to kiss Alastor. Right in front of a gaping Vox. 

The radio demon should be livid. He made it clear their personal lives were not for public consumption—in any form.

Only for the petite archangel to hold nothing back in his gaze every time their eyes met.

So, why was Alastor melting into the press of lips, regardless of who was watching? 

A shiver ran down Alastor’s spine, taken in by the fierce protectiveness in that kiss. Misguided, clumsy, foolhardy, and vowed to shield him from harm with everything he had.

Which would be just lovely, if Alastor didn’t have to consider the crumbling reputation he’d just glued back together.

But, when his red eyes found Vox, already wearing a brilliant smile like he meant to expose this level of affection all along—he saw something he should have expected. 

The television demon’s eyes widened in shock, circuits buzzing with disbelief. His screen went blank like he’d overload, until the color blocked test pattern displayed the words ‘please stand by.’ Like his entire system had to reboot. 

He’d stunned the picture box—and that, the radio demon could work with.

“What the fuck, Alastor?” Vox crackled, outrage written over his features. “You don’t like being touched! Isn’t that your whole damn shtick?”

Crimson eyes slid to Vox with barely concealed loathing. Alastor tutted, lips curling in a mocking sneer. Soaking in that glorious, irrational, jealousy.

“Oh, I don’t.” Alastor said simply, turning a softer smile to Lucifer, knowing the Overlord was watching with wrapt attention. “Not by just anyone, and particularly not by you, Vox.” 

Vox’s screen fritzed again, eyes flashing with fury. 

“Oh-ho, I know that green-eyed monster when I see it~” Lucifer taunted in a sing-song voice. His hand tightened around Alastor’s waist. 

“This all started with your silly little obsession, did it not?” Alastor mused with a dark chuckle. And the radio demon, utterly amused with this revelation from his rival, leaned in to the assumption. “When did you realize your propositions to have me on your team turned into utterly pathetic advances?”

“Cocky fucking bastard!” Vox’s voice distorted and crackled. “Don’t act so high and mighty! You just found a higher power to whore yourself out to!” The Vox hologram rocked violently against its bindings, wild with jealous rage, somehow even more deranged and unhinged without a corporeal form to ground it.

Static burst throughout the room, lights flickering and shadows distorting. As Alastor’s smile stayed perfectly in place. 

The radio demon leaned forward, teeth glinting with pure malice as he tapped his microphone against Vox’s screen, making the cyan distortion appear again.

“If you think it wise to spread gossip about me, by way of blackmailing Our King…on your head, be it.” He said in a sadistic purr. “No one will believe a thing you saw here.” 

Over his shoulder, he felt his shadows banished. Lucifer had his back with a flash of divine light and power. 

And nothing felt better than rubbing salt into Vox’s wounded ego.

Alastor reached out a clawed hand, pressing the tip of a nail into the hologram’s chest. The projection wavered and warped under his touch, but still provided a just hint of resistance. 

“Then again, this isn’t really you, is it?”

He felt Lucifer’s hand tighten at his waist. “It’s a hell projection dear, “ he explained, his voice amused. “Meant to torture sinners by allowing them to touch, but never be touched in return.” 

“Oh.” Alastor’s ears perked up. “How inspiringly cruel.” 

He straightened up, shooting Lucifer a wicked smile, before he grabbed the shorter man by the lapels, and shoved the angel back into Vox’s lap. 

Both men appeared completely taken aback.

Vox’s screen glitched between showing his two-dimensional eyes wide with excitement and indignation.

“Al, you sure about this?” Lucifer’s face was painted with the same shock, but with a bit of delight curling his lips. Wondering if the radio demon was serious. 

Alastor caught his eye with a smirk. His long nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons, revealing the scarlet dress shirt and black suspenders underneath—shedding his coat entirely and tossing it onto the bed. 

Vox had never seen Alastor in a scrap less of clothing before, and those slim shoulders and narrow waist made something hot and hungry twist in his gut. 

Lucifer was already reaching for the demon, knowing this was the signal that his partner wanted to be handled. 

  Alastor moved to straddle the King of Hell with his long legs, caging his rival overlord as well, while he captured the angel’s mouth in a searing kiss. 

Lucifer groaned against his lips. 

“I can still fucking see you sick perverts!” Vox snarled, face burning with humiliated fury. 

Vox was having a conniption. Since when did Alastor let anyone touch him, let alone paw at him and his immaculate clothes? But here the radio demon was, sitting astride Lucifer’s lap, and kissing him like he wanted to devour him. 

Alastor tsked, wagging a chiding finger as he nuzzled against Lucifer’s cheek with a rumbling purr. 

Vox watched Lucifer’s hand slide down the demon’s waist, gripping his hips to pull him in even closer.

Alastor’s low chuckle met the gesture, that clawed hand grabbing the chair behind the other demon’s head. As he lifted his hips and rolled them against Lucifer’s. 

Through his eyelids, Alastor could see Vox’s screen flashing and flickering, a sound of disgust—and abject envy hitting the deer demon’s ears. 

Though his delight at Vox’s outrage was shriveling in comparison to the familiar delight of Lucifer’s hands on him. He’d never wanted for touch, never felt so starved without it, until the first time he’d felt the angel’s lips on his own. Now, he was always famished.

“Get off me, you sick fucks!” Vox snarled, struggling against his bonds as he tried to buck them off.

With a sharp intake of breath, Lucifer pulled away from the kiss. A sly grin played on his lips as he cast a fleeting glance at the flat screen mounted behind him. “Voxy might not really be here.” he purred, his hands sliding up along Alastor’s torso, hooking into the black suspenders he wore, and the demon let himself be pulled forward. Just to see the TV glitch. “But I can feel him getting hard.” 

The television behind Lucifer flashed a brilliant, blushing red and Alastor laughed at this tantalizing little tidbit. 

He leaned in, his forehead pressed to the angel’s as he murmured. “What a shame I cannot be recorded…” he taunted, his lips drawn over the angels with pure want and sweetness that he gave to no one else. “I suppose you shall have to commit it to memory.” 

“Fuck you both,” Vox growled, his projection flickering with impotent rage. Practically frothing at the mouth. Because beneath the anger and the jealousy—was the shameful desire. The longing to be touched and wanted by Alastor the way Lucifer was. 

“Oh, you wish chatter box.” The angel snorted, only to have the radio demon’s claws pull his attention back. 

“No, I—” Vox couldn’t even get the protest out of his mouth. It was…he couldn’t be jealous of Lucifer? Or Alastor…Or…both. 

He didn’t know anymore, and that was the greatest torture of all. 

The two seemed too lost in each other to give much of a damn about him. 

“Darling~” Alastor purred, moving to stand with as much grace as he could manage in this state. Causing two breaths to hitch. “I think…we need some privacy. Don’t you?”

“Mm, couldn’t agree more.” Lucifer’s eyes sparkled as he stood and ran his hands up Alastor’s chest, finding his tie and undoing it with deft fingers. Before pulling his collar to bring him back nose to nose. “I want you all to myself.” 

A full-body shudder rippled through the lean demon at the intimate words and touch. They’d been playing a game of teasing, hardly doing anything more heavy than petting—but it seemed Lucifer was ready for more than just a little light handling. 

The angel’s fingers slipped into Alastor’s hair, tilting his head back and leaving a searing trail down his neck, popping open the collar of his shirt in his wake. 

Exposing more of his skin than Alastor intended. 

“P-Perhaps we shouldn’t give our...captive audience too much of a peep show,” Alastor managed, static crackling around the words. 

Lucifer pulled back, reading something through Alastor’s stiff smile. “Oh, Al—!”

The demon pressed his pointed fingers to the angel’s lips, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Clumsy as ever, but affectionately honest. And Alastor wanted to kiss the apology off of his lips.

“You can’t just leave me here!” Vox’s screen flickered and glitched, his useless hands clenching at his side. “While you go off and—”

Vox couldn’t even finish the thought, his mind rebelling at the images that flashed before his eyes. Alastor and Lucifer, tangled together in the sheets, their bodies moving as one. Alastor’s head thrown back in ecstasy, Lucifer’s name falling from his lips like a prayer.

The real men in front of them were leaning into each other again, like they couldn’t surface from each other long enough to care that Vox was here. 

Alastor nipped at Lucifer’s ear, voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur only they could hear. A thrilled laugh spilled from the fallen angel at whatever filthy suggestion was offered.

“You’re a singularly wicked thing,” he praised, squeezing Alastor’s hip meaningfully. “Wouldn’t dream of denying you.”

With a casual flick of one hand, the glowing angelic bindings holding Vox constricted suddenly, forcing his projection into an awkward, hunched position on the chair. 

Alastor smirked at the muffled noise of frustration.

Alastor sauntered over to where Vox’s bound projection fought against its ethereal bonds. He tsked in mock disappointment, crouching down to meet those twinkling electronic eyes, seeing how they darted to the open collar of his shirt. 

And how the rope criss-crossed his screen, gagging Vox at last. 

“Such unbecoming behavior from an esteemed colleague,” he chided, all velvet and menace. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised—you were always dreadfully uncouth.”

Vox’s screen flashed furiously, the test pattern barely holding. Alastor watched the frantic display with undisguised relish.

“No witty comebacks? No desperate pleas?” He feigned a pout. “Disappointing. Then again, you always are.” 

Straightening, Alastor’s microphone staff materialized in one hand with a crackle of static. He gave it an experimental twirl, grinning madly.

“It’s just a shame you won’t be able to feel yourself burning in the lake of fire.” With an oddly graceful sweep of the staff, a swirling vortex sparked to life at their feet—a hellish portal yawning open. Searing brimstone fumes billowed forth, carrying the roar of raging flames. 

“Do enjoy the sight of your flesh melting though, ta-ta!” Alastor gave a teasing wave as Vox’s projection was lashed with his shadow tentacles, and dragged into the fiery pit itself. 

Lucifer watched the whole display with rapt amusement from the bed, crimson eyes glittering. As Alastor turned back towards him, snapping away the vortex with a casual flick, the fallen angel reclined with unabashed hunger written across his handsome features.

“I do love it when you do you evil, Al.” The angel grinned, popping onto his boots. “It’s hot as hell.” 

Alastor rolled his eyes at the terrible pun, but couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped him. The man wore his heart on his sleeve to an embarrassing extent. 

What made Alastor find it so inexplicably pleasing?

“Then you must be perpetually hot and bothered. Sounds like a terrible state of affairs to be in.”

“Not one you can relate to, huh?” Lucifer grinned, wrapping his arms around Alastor’s tapered waist.

The taller demon ducked, smirking only broader when he stayed just out of the reach of the Lucifer’s lips, to the King’s visible frustration. 

“I may relate, as of late.” 

That was all the shorter man needed to reach up and grab Alastor in for another kiss. 

“I can help with that.” Lucifer offered sweetly, pointed fingers curling into the radio demon’s hair to demand a deeper kiss.

Lucifer, with a level of gracelessness that was miraculous for an angel, pushed Alastor back onto his rumpled bed.

The slender radio demon's body relaxed into the mattress, his long legs splayed indignantly—so he thought. Though there was no hint of mirth in his lover’s yellow eyes.

Lucifer was already on top of him, forked tongue sliding past his lips with desperate need.

Alastor felt Lucifer's sharp teeth glided along his jaw, marking a trail of small kisses down his length of neck.“Impatient, are we?” Alastor attempted a tease, but his ever-practiced voice faulter under the angel’s undaunted enthusiasm.

“Oh, honey. I know how getting one over on someone gets you going.” He lifted his head, only to waggle those damn eyebrows. “Do you want me to slow down?”

Lesiurely, Lucifer made a scorching path down the demon’s chest and torso, pushing apart his blood red shirt inch by inch.

“Fuck you.” Alastor gripped at his golden blonde hair, trying to shove his head down further.

Lucifer resisted the force like a tiger swatted by a house cat—sending another thrill down the demon’s spine.

The angel was pausing to swirl his tongue into the grooved indents of lean muscle and hipbones. Lucifer’s clever mouth worked lower still—until finally he freed Alastor’s hard cock and enveloped him in the welcoming heat of the angel’s mouth.

The radio demon arched up from the bed with a strangled cry of static, clawing at the crimson sheets as Lucifer’s mischievous skills swiftly robbed him of breath and higher cognition. Alastor’s legs fell open wider as debauched sounds hissed from between his teeth. 

Lucifer hummed his approval around his mouthful, that damned tongue of his flicking ceaslessly as he sucked Alastor down.

The demon was already trembling under him. Too damn easily.

Only when Alastor’s sounds reached a true crescendo of desperation did Lucifer finally pull back with a filthy pop.

“My, my...it seems the great Alastor turns quite tame with just a little bit of attention,” Lucifer purred, sinuously licking his lips clean.

“Consider yourself fortunate that pride flatters you, darling.” Alastor snarled hoarsely, eyes burning crimson and fangs bared as radio noise crackled around him.

With a snap of Alastor fingers, their clothes vanished, only to appear folded neatly on the nearby chair.

Lucifer quirked a brow as Alastor reached down to hastily prep himself. The radio demon’s long fingers deftly worked, slicking himself with conjured lubricant.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” Alastor growled out the demand. 

Lucifer’s grin stretched wider, all too eager to oblige.

He surged up to capture that snarling mouth in a hungry, devouring kiss. Pinning Alastor’s wiry body back against the bed, careful to align perfectly with the demon’s entrance—before snapping forward in a brutal thrust.

Alastor threw his head back with a guttural groan of blissful torment.

Static discharged in a blistering wave, scattering signals and causing lights to flicker in their room. The radio demon’s slender fingers scrabbled for purchase, digging into Lucifer’s back as his legs wrapped vice-tight around the angel’s powerful body.

Lucifer leaned in close, to the constant rumble coming from the demon’s stretched lips.

“Growl for me all you like, my dear,” he purred darkly. “I know exactly what you need.”

Lucifer set a punishing pace—plunging into Alastor’s willing warmth over and over.

The demon keened brazenly beneath him. Clinging with a desperation that belied centuries of scheming and solitude, finally crumbling to primal need.

Their power swirled and clashed in wild waves.

Alastor’s shadows swirled and snarled, his eyes burning bright in the room's dark as he fought to keep them open, his teeth gnashed together.

Lucifer’s vast angelic grace responded—six resplendent wings unfurling in stark juxtaposition—keeping Alastor’s demonic power in eclipsed beneath him.

The angel groaned deep in his chest at that exquisite sight his tightly buttoned partner made when he finaly let go. He drank it in with reverence.

And that undeniable dominant power shattered the last strand of Alastor’s restraint.

He came with a harsh cry, clenching to the angel’s cock as he came. Making a mess of them both, knowing that was exactly what Lucifer wanted before he was spent inside Alastor.

Lucifer panted harshly, sweat beading his brow as the pleasure rolled through him.

For long moments, they simply clung together, chests heaving and hearts pounding violently.

Lucifer nuzzled into the crook of Alastor’s neck, relishing their closeness, the scent and taste of his lover’s bliss. He felt utterly sated, lethargic in the most delicious way.

Alastor panted still, almost silently, arm thrown over his face as he attempted to compose himself. Hiding his mouth as he drew ragged breaths.

But when at last Lucifer made to pull away, shadowy tendrils lashed around his waist, refusing to let him go.

Alastor whimpered faintly as he drew the fallen angel back down atop him, long limbs winding around Lucifer to keep him nestled close.

The blonde chuckled, the sound warm with fond amusement as he happily settled in the circle of Alastor’s embrace.

Trailing reverent touches along those deceptively delicate features, he murmured, “My sweet little deer demon...”

A ragged growl vibrated low in Alastor’s chest at the endearment. But there was no real threat behind it as he clung to Lucifer—soaking up every caress, every brush of affection in still, sated bliss.

When Lucifer’s fingers carded through his disheveled hair, he even leaned subtly into the intimate touch like a cat being stroked.

“Hush now,” Lucifer purred, placing a soft kiss to Alastor’s brow. “Let me take care of you...”

Alastor’s only response was a halfhearted grumble as he tucked his face into the curve of Lucifer’s neck, content to let the former archangel dote on him.

Just for now.

#I Love Alastor so much it's not healthy #I will also ship himw with anyone #radioapple #alastor #hazbin #hazbin hotel #radioappleweek #Lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel fic #radioapple fic #radioapple smutt #hazbin fanfic #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #radioappleweek2024 #grayaceAlastor #if you squint #serviceTopLucifer

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Summarize your writing with a gif.

#smut #fluff #angst #you’re welcome

[randompandabaewrites]

Born to Survive (2/2)

part 2 of Astarion's Romance scene in act 1

part 1 link

Astarion x f!Tav (tiefling), Canon Compliant, Explicit af

4.2k

//This one tried to kill me. Smut, angst, comfort, oh my. Game accurate dialogue up to a point. CW: Good in bed, bad at emotions. Unhealthy...everything when it comes to sex/emotions. Bad communication?? But happy ending. This is the night with Tav that changes everything for Astarion.// Song Rec: The Death of Peace of Mind by Bad Omens

Astarion’s keen ears caught the moment Tav entered the moonlit clearing.

The vampire spawn felt the familiar prickling anticipation of the game he was about to play—a dance of manipulation and survival, dressed up in the silvery light. Where he could slip into the role he was created play. The seductive predator, dangerous and irresistible.

Yet, not so much as to forfeit her faith in him.

An unfamiliar flutter stirred within the pale elf. She was just another pawn in his web. Nothing was different just because he knew her name. And he should not be secretly happy that she would survive to see the sun rise tomorrow.

Astarion ignored the rush of his long since dead heart. This was self preservation; nothing more.

This yearning for anything else was dangerous as putting a stake in her hands.

He could not afford to care how she felt about him, beyond whether or not she would protect him.

Astarion removed his jacket methodically, folding it with deliberate care. As he pulled at the laces of his white shirt, memories came unbidden—clothing pooled around ankles, ripped away from his body, discarded like they weren’t all he had to his name.

Cazador’s mocking voice sneered in his mind. Reminding him of his place. On his knees. On his back. All he was good for.

He draped his folded shirt over a low branch, silencing the heartless laugh echoing in his memory as he slid on the mask he’d donned for centuries.

Astarion’s undead heart might as well b e made of stone. There was nothing left of him but the charm he cast.

“There you are.” Astarion greeted with the hint of a purr in his voice as he stepped from behind a towering oak with a smile already curving his lips.

He let his gaze rake appreciatively over Tav’s form, gratified when her eyes darted from his face to drink in his bared chest and down his body.

The blush on her cheeks when she was caught was just…delicious.

“I’ve been waiting, waiting since the moment I set eyes on you,” Astarion soothed, gliding closer. The moonlight caressed his alabaster skin, lending him an ethereal, almost ghostly beauty. 

At least, he hoped that was how he appeared, striking and seductive in the silver glow.

His prowl came to a stop merely inches from Tav, catching the hitch in her breath as she still hadn’t spoken. Thrilling him with how utterly captivated she was.

“Waiting…to have you.” he finished in a silken murmur, reaching a delicate hand to trail his cool fingers over her flushed cheek.

Suddenly, the tiefling’s eyes snapped up to meet his. Her body reanimated as she shifted from foot to foot with a slash of her tail.

“You sure, Astarion?” Tav asked, Her voice was a maddeningly gentle whisper, her brow creased with a vexing worry.

Why did she have to make this so damn difficult? Couldn’t she just enjoy what they both clearly wanted?

Instead Tav had to ask those weighted words, like she was trying disarm his every charm.

No.

He couldn’t let her pry her way under his flirtatious mask. Whatever broken, battered creature cowered behind his facade could not see the light of day. Astarion had a role to play. The lover Tav would do anything to protect.

His smile never wavered as he steered her away from anything more meaningful than their little dance now, until bairly a hair’s breadth separated their bodies.

“Don’t I have you?” he said with honey in his voice and want in his crimson eyes. “You’re here…and I don’t think you want to talk.”

Knowing her gaze was intent on him, Astarion let his focus drift down the curves of her body—taking in the way her tiefling tail betrayed her. Despite the worry on her brow, Tav’s arrant appendage curled at the tip in obvious interest.

Astarion’s charms were eroding even the hero’s defenses, as they should.

Tav’s full lips parted, and before she could voice another irritatingly perceptive question, Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling their bodies flush at last.

“I think you want to be known…to be tasted.” His breath ghosted across her skin.

Slowly, giving her time to pull away, he raised a hand to cup her cheek, caressing the fading puncture marks with his thumb.

Finally, Tav shivered at his touch. Her slit pupils went wide, and her tail curled fully to the small of her back. Just when he was about to taste her lips for the first time…she had to open her mouth.

“What do you want, Astarion?”

In his wretchedly long mockery of a life, no one had ever asked him that. No lover. No target. And certainly no master.

Why did Tav threaten to crack his facade with every damn word she said.

What did he want? Blood. Protection. Freedom. Safety.

Astarion sliced that thread before either of them could follow it too closely.

The vampire turned Tav’s head, breaking that too honest gaze, letting his lips brush her pointed ear instead. “What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours, mine, our collective ecstasy.” He let each word drip with promise.

Her resistance finally melted away.

A smile graced that sweet mouth and her lithe form leaned into his. She reached for him at last, her hands coming to rest on his waist, and he could nearly sigh as the heat of her skin seeped into his perpetual chill.

Her touch was still too tentative for him.

Astarion captured her wrists in his long fingers, drawing her hands up along the sculpted planes of his chest to loop around his neck, ducking his head to tease his lips over hers. "

“That’s it. That’s what you want, isn’t it…to lose yourself in me?”

He wasn’t asking. It was what they always wanted. His touch. His attention. His body. All he was good for.

“Astarion…”

The vampire nearly gloated when she sighed his name—the noble tone was so weak under the want.

At last, Astarion had dragged the honorable Tav down to his level of depravity.

Her pulse thrummed wildly under his palms, betraying her at last. How badly she must want him. How he’d stripped away her suspicion and caution until only need remained.

“I thought so.” He purred with pure gratification.

Tav leaned up on her toes, pressing through the hands cupping her face, and closing the distance between their mouths.

Astarion had kissed countless lips in his time. Thousands of fleeting moments, rushed, careless, clashing, teeth and tongues.

Tav’s kiss was nothing like that.

It was warm, reverent in a way Astarion knew he did not deserve, even as he slid easily into the motions. Trying to bury her tenderness in wanton desire.

But then, Tav leaned into his palm, nuzzling her cheek into his hand, pointed fingers threading through his.

And it was such an artless, intimate gesture that suddenly threatened to choke him.

Desperate to quash this unnamed feeling before it could take root—Astarion claimed Tav’s mouth in a searing kiss. Biting her bottom lip to banish any sweetness she gave.

…

Tav could feel her pulse fluttering in her ears as Astarion caressed her every curve with effortless grace. His lips felt like they were everywhere, and his skilled tongue stoked a delicious heat within the tiefling.

She was lost to every delicate touch. His nimble fingers deftly undid the laces of her bodice, unhooking the fastenings of her trousers.

Tav hardly noticed until he was pulling her to step out of the puddle of her clothes to be pulled into the hard line of his body against hers.

His elegance was unmatched to any lover she’d had. They hardly needed to exchange—and Astarion seemed disinclined to speak at all as he lavished attention down her neck and her collarbones with his perfect mouth.

Tav was desperate. Not just for more skin-tingling touches, but to return some of the bliss he bestowed on her.

Her fingers grasped at Astarion’s silken hair, catching him for a moment so she could leave her own kisses along the chiseled line of his jaw, down the pale column of his neck.

The vampire’s throat went motionless under her mouth the lower she went. Of course, she didn’t expect to feel a fluttering pulse, but it was like he’d forgotten to breathe. Had passion erased his pretense of needing air?

Tav just wondered this as her lips reached the twin scars on his neck—and Astarion went rigid.

Her heart seized.

She overstepped, maybe reminded him of his painful past, and she had to apologize.

The words were already on her tongue, when he caught her by the chin and pulled her back.

“As much as I enjoy your affections, darling,” he purred, ruby eyes gleaming wickedly, “I have much better plans for that sweet mouth of yours.”

Then he was kissing her again, deeply, ardently. Tav whined as the points of his fangs grazed her bottom lip, sending licks of fire through her veins. He knew exactly what he was doing as he ravished her, and  her awkwardness forgotten as he tried to drown her in arousal.

Nothing existed but Astarion’s clever hands, his sinful lips, and the delicious ache building between her thighs.

The awkwardness of the moment was forgotten as she clung to him. Nothing compared to the intensity of being the focus of Astarions attention. She felt ravished before he even stooped to wrap her legs around his waist, but he barely broke their kiss.

Tav eagerly complied, locking her arms around his shoulders, careful of his neck, though curling her quivering tail around his torso too.

Astarion pressed her into the rough bark of a nearby tree, his hands digging possessively into her thighs.

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. She was giddy with arousal, slicker still as she felt the hard length of his cock just press against her.

Gods, she needed him inside her.

“Playful little tiefling.” Astarion murmured appreciatively, his voice like dark velvet against her ear.

Tav giggled again, giving a deliberate twitch of her tail. “Well, biting is basically foreplay for my kind,” she teased, fingers threading through his curls, careful of the points of her nails as she murmured against his lips. “I shoulda warned ya, before that first little nibble by the campfire.”

If their bodies weren't so closely interlaced, their noses gently grazing each other as Astarion teasingly ground his hips into hers, stirring her eagerness for the forthcoming fervor, she may have missed the swift flicker of emotion that danced across Astarion's handsome face.

Uncertainty. Discomfort even…at being bitten? That made sense he would be cautious of the reminder—but the expression was gone in a blink. Replaced with a roguish grin.

“Is that so? Then you’ve already surrendered yourself to me.”

Oh, how damn cocky could a man be?

Sure, he was turning her to a mess just rutting against her. But Tav arched a brow. “I can’t just…let you win.”

The tiefling simpered, even as she tilted her head to the side, baring the tantalizing line of her throat. Showing off the fading bite.

That bright ruby gaze darkened, rivited, zeroed in on her fluttering pulse. He leaned in, fangs bared, as she slid her tail away from him.

In flick of her tail, Tav leveraged herself off of the tree, sending them both tumbling into the soft grass.

She landed atop him, legs caging his hips, grinning at his startled expression.

“Gotcha.”

To Tav’s surprise and delight, a warm and genuine laugh burst from Astarion’s lips. His eyes sparkled with an inner light, bright and unreserved in a way she’d never seen from him before. Tav was transfixed by just the glimpse of raw, unguarded emotion on his face.

The spell couldn’t last forever.

Astarion’s hands seized her hips, using his vampiric strength and speed to flip Tav onto her back, pinning her into the grass.

Her air escaped in a huff as he captured her wrists and pressed them into the ground, rendering her wonderfully helpless.

“Alright, alright, I yield!” Tav laughed breathlessly, squirming only half-heartedly in his stone grip. “You win.”

Still smiling, she tipped her head back, baring her throat in surrender—eliciting a low, greedy sound from Astarion. This time, he did not hesitate.

Hot, stinging pleasure burst through her blood as the vampire’s fangs sank into her skin. She shivered, happily helpless, under the icy ecstasy of his bite. His body leaned heavily and perfectly into the cradle of hers.

His long fingers came around to cushion her head, just as the first night he fed from her. Tav hardly noticed when Astarion released her wrists, other than she could dreamily slide her fingers into his white curls. On instinct, she brushed the pads of her thumbs along the tender points of his ears.

Astarion startled in her hold.

A blissful sound echoed against her throat, and the twin points of pain disappeared as his focus wavered. He pulled back from her, crimson lingering on his lips.

“Elves and their ears.” Tav answered his unasked question, repeating the gentle stroke to prove her point, gratified when he was the one to give a shudder. “Shall I stop?”

“Don’t you dare,” Astarion growled playfully, before diving back down to reclaim her lips. She teased his gorgeous ears as long as he would allow, before he seemed to remember himself—and pulled back with a darker gaze.

“Let me show you my favorite trick.” He purred, kissing a trail down her heated body. Lavishing attention on her breasts before settling between her thighs like he belonged there.

His strong, elegant hands curled under her hips, lifting her soaking folds to his wickedly talented tongue.

The first stroke across her clit had Tav arching with a cry, sparks igniting behind her eyelids. Astarion was relentless, laving and suckling with single-minded focus, devouring her pussy like he hungered for nothing else. His clever fingers slid into her, thrusting and curling with unerring accuracy.

He was overwhelming in the most delightful way.

“Astarion,” Tav gasped, half a sob in her throat. Her fingers tangled in his hair. Pleasure was building inside her like a cresting wave until she thought she might shatter from it. 

Just as the peak crashed over her, Tav’s tail curled adoringly around Astarion’s arm, the spaded tip digging into his bicep. Astarion groaned against her, the sound reverberating through her pussy—until she was trembling in the grass.

“Darling…I am not finished with you yet.” his breath was panting against his thigh, his lips shining with her slick in the moonlight.

His eyes burned into hers as he lowered his mouth back to her, drawing a feral whimper from her mouth. He worked her through the aftershocks with his lips and mouth and the edge of his teeth—then built her back up again, drawing every ounce of pleasure from the tiefling’s body until she was left boneless and blissed out.

By the time Tav found her voice again, she’d lost count of how many times he’d made her come. 

“Astarion,” she rasped. “Please. I need you.”

In a flash, he was over her, the blunt head of his cock nudging against her entrance. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said with that damnable roguish grin.

Then he was sliding into her, hard and thick and perfect, and Tav could only hang on as he took her apart all over again. She was so sensitive, the pleasure bordering on pain, that it only took a few deep strokes before she was clenching around him, keening her release.

Astarion swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing her deeply as he continued to move within her. Tav felt owned, treasured, utterly consumed by the brilliant creature in her arms. In that moment, she would have happily let him devour her whole.

…

Astarion thrust into her with smooth, measured strokes, the perfect rhythm to draw out her satisfaction. His face was buried in the crook of her neck as he murmured filthy praises against her skin, just as he was supposed to.

“You are so terribly intoxicating, my love. So perfectly wrapped around me. Like you were made just to undo me.”

Tav was a mess under him, her careful words lost to the sensation of him moving inside her. Her limbs tangled around him and she tried to pull him down for a kiss.

Astarion evaded her lips, lavishing attention on her throat instead. Letting his mind slip away again.

It wasn’t long before she was clenching around him again, shuddering through another intense climax. Astarion worked her through it, then gradually slowed his pace. When Tav finally resurfaced, sated and pliant in his arms.

Just where he needed her to be.

“Fuck,” she sighed, pressing the heel of her palm over her eyes as she still caught her breath. He slid from her still quivering body, though she still clung to him with her curled tail.

“I shall take that as a compliment.” He chuckled at her side, pressing his lips to the skin before her ear.

“Astarion, did you…?”

The vampire tensed almost imperceptibly before pulling back to look at her, a practiced smile curving his lips. 

“I was, concentrating…you had me captivated, darling.” He glossed over. It was easy to ignore his own ache, and most of his conquests were happy to let him. “Brilliant, beautiful thing you are.”

Astarion eased, pressing her back into the grass. He sat up, resting on his bent knee, as he let himself detachment from the moment.

Tav's frown caught his attention as she studied him from where she was still laid back in the moonlit grass. “Hey, is everything okay? I want to make you feel good, too.”

Her words took him by surprise. Make him feel good? That simply didn’t factor into any script he played in someone else’s bed.

His mouth opened and closed in silent confusion before he shook off the disorientation.

"I...no, everything’s fine. Wonderful, in fact. You’ve been perfect, darling," he responded smoothly. Astarion couldn’t pull his mask into place. Weak, vulnerable, aching—confused as to what he should do next.

But there was no dungeon to draw her towards. No master to turn her over to. Tav was not a target. What was he meant to do?

Astarion laid back, wondering if he should feign exhaustion. Until Tav fell asleep and he could slip away.

With a gentle smile, and a little unsteady as she rose, Tav slid her hands up Astarion’s chest to frame his face. “Let me concentrate on you now,” she murmured, shifting until she was straddling his hips again.

He clung to her waist on instinct, but didn’t grip hard enough to stop her from moving over him.

“Is that alright, Astarion?”

She kept saying his name, drawing his eyes back to hers, to the want in hers that was more than want.

The warmth was overwhelming.

“Yes,” He agreed, hearing his own breathless assent. Telling himself it was just to be relieved of that adoring look in her eyes.

Tav drew him along her palm, sinking down on his hardness inch by heavenly inch. 

Astarion gasped gently. For once, he seemed at a loss for words, ruby eyes wide and locked on hers as she began to move.

Undulating slowly, Tav leaned in to capture his lips, kissing him deeply, reverently. 

His own mouth was…hesitant. The way she kissed him, the way she kissed, the way she moved, dragged that unbidden yearning from somewhere deep inside him.

Like his first taste of her neck, something about this felt forbidden. Too rich for his blood.

But then Astarion was kissing Tav back feverishly, sitting up to tangle one hand in her hair to hold her close. Like he was starving all over again.

Tav kept the pace languid, letting Astarion savor every slide and press, her pussy quivering around him still. He’d thought he’d worn her out so thoroughly—but she persisted.

She peppered kisses across his angular cheekbones, the corner of his mouth, his temples. Astarion shuddered beneath her, a soft whimper escaping him as she rolled her hips just so.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Tav crooned. “Just feel. Let go for me.”

Time seemed to slip from him yet again—but he felt every breath against his lips, her forehead pressed to his with agonizing sweetness. Her fingers curled into the hair at the base of his neck, and he clung to her in turn.

Astarion felt his body stiffen involuntarily, a flicker of apprehension. His armor trying to snap back into place, one last ditch attempt to wall him off.

“Tav…” his voice was a broken plea.

Her relentless warmth ceased every vulnerability in him. Her arms wrapped around him, shielding out the rest of the world, the rest of his thoughts.

Those damnable eyes with unwavering affection as they locked onto his.

"I've got you," Tav murmured with a fervor that echoed through him. "You're so good, Astarion."

Her words sent him spiraling into the abyss with a ragged gasp as his climax washed over him, spilling deep within her.

Astarion could feel her arms drawing him closer, her fingers threading through his curls and whispering praises and reassurances that seeped into his dead marrow.

He clung to her desperately, hiding himself in the crook of her neck as he was the one to tremble.

In this moment, stripped bare of all pretenses and disguises he wore. All Astarion could do was cling tighter to Tav, hoping that she could feel even a sliver of the affection and reverence that burned within him.

Astarion watched her as she lay back, unable to rip his eyes away or compose his face in to something prettier.

She laughed breathlessly, but the elf remained still, waiting. Bracing himself for the inevitable withdrawal, for her warmth to leave him bereft and alone once more.

That part of the script was surely still intact.

They took their pleasure, then cast him aside. Or worse.

But Tav did neither.

She nestled close, resting her head on his chest with a contented sigh. Astarion glanced down at her, watching the way her fingers idly traced invisible patterns on his cool skin. The casual intimacy of it made his throat tighten.

After a moment, Tav lifted her gaze to his, a playful smile curving her kiss-swollen lips. “Not much for cuddling after?” she teased gently, but she was already lifting herself off of him.

Astarion huffed a laugh, hoping it masked the confused tangle of emotions her tenderness evoked. “It’s not exactly my forte.” 

He should be using his glib charm to get them back to camp, saying they should get some sleep. But with Tav...he hesitated. Loath to break this fragile, unfamiliar spell between them. 

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Tav shifted to lay her head in the grass beside him, relinquishing her claim on his space.

But as her warmth and weight left him, Astarion felt strangely bereft. Unmoored. His hand darted out to catch hers, lacing their fingers together as he turned to face her.

Tav’s ever-radiant smile dawned across her face. She squeezed his hand gently, like it was the most precious thing she’d ever held. “This okay?” she asked softly.

Slowly, deliberately, she brought his knuckles to her lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of his hand. Like he was the prey she feared startling.

Tav slid their joined hands up to rest over Astarion’s still heart, her expression open and tender in a way that made his breath catch.

Astarion swallowed hard to gain even a tenuous control. “More than,” he managed, voice rough with everything he couldn’t quite say.

Tav smiled at him, and those bright eyes held nothing—no guile, no ulterior motive. Only affection and a hint of something that looked dangerously close to…adoration.

It terrified him even as some long-dormant part of his soul ached for more.

“Good,” he breathed at last, barely recognizing his own voice.

As he slid his arm around Tav’s shoulders, pulling her back to his chest beneath the star-strewn sky, a sudden realization hit him with the force of a charging bulette.

In all his long existence, he had never spent the night with a lover. Had never wanted to. But now, with Tav a warm, trusting weight in his arms, he found himself hoping desperately that this wouldn’t be the last time.

There would be time to figure this out later, he told himself. To untangle the confusing snarl of warmth and want and unspoken yearning twisting beneath his ribs. 

And yet, as Tav’s breathing gradually slowed and deepened with the onset of sleep, Astarion discovered that there was nowhere in all the realms he’d rather be.

Perhaps, just this once, he could let himself have this. Could dare to imagine a future beyond mere survival.

#Oh I need a nap #Put me through the ringer #But also proud of this #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #baulders gate 3 #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #bg3 #tav #astarion x female tav #Astarion x Tiefling #Tiefling Tav #tav bg3 #Canon comp #astarion fic #Astarion angst

[randompandabaewrites]

I am ace and I read, write, and breathe smutty books and fics. Asexuality is a spectrum. Our experiences of sex/desire/intimacy can be wildly different and still valid.

Alastor's Sexuality

I don't speak for the Asexual Community. My comments in this post are based off of what I learned from asexual people on reddit.

I am in the process of writing an Alastor centric fic. I wanted to write him as he is in the show, so before I started I did some research. I found a subreddit for asexuals and asked very nicely what stereotypes, misinformation and troupes they would like to see not used when writing asexual characters.

I was advised that being ace doesn't mean you don't have sexual relationships or get married. From what I understand, they aren't wired to think sexually first and value other things in a relationship over bedroom relations. Strong bonds can be formed platonically, romantically, or sexually. Asexual is not a choice. You are born this way. Abstinence is a choice and is not the same as identifying as ace.

You can be asexual without being aromantic. Some identify as both and some don't. They don't necessarily go hand in hand.

Asexual representation does not mean writing a character as autistic or mentally impaired in any way. There is nothing mentally wrong with them for being ace. They are regular people. They want characters that are just written as normal people without some reason for being asexual. They aren't broken and don't need someone "fixing" them or writing characters that need to be fixed to be sexual. They do have sex.

They enjoy sex jokes, books, media and most are not repulsed by sex or touch. In my experience if you are repulsed by sex and touch it's due to sexual trauma. (That's me.)

The point of this post is this... Yes. Asexual characters (in this case, Alastor) can be written into romantic relationships. Drawing/Rping/Writing him in a pairing does not erase his asexual identity.

Ship and let ship.

Also if I have gotten any of the information above wrong, I apologize. I am not asexual so this is going off of what I was told in a group. I DO NOT speak for the community.

*edit:

Thank you to those who were kind enough to reply and point out where I erred. I am learning and would like to not feed into harmful stereotypes. Being touch repulsed isn't only related to trauma as I thought. Asexuals can be sex repulsed. Apologies for the misinformation.

[randompandabaewrites]

Born to Survive (1/2)

Astarion x f!Tav (tiefling), Canon Compliant,

Astarion's Romance, Act 1

1.8k of about 6k

part 2

Astarion's perfect little plan to seduce and manipulate Tav goes awry the first night he spends with her. But he should have known from the moment she agreed to meet him in the woods. // Part 1 of 2 cause this was longer than I planned for (heh). Astarion's dialogue is as close to the game as I could manage, with some embellishment. CW: Astarion's v healthy approach to sex/intimacy. MDNI This part is not explicit but part 2 is only that. Song Rec: Natural (Cover) by Kristen Collins & Kurt Hugo Schneider//

Astarion from the growing darkness watched as Tav knelt by the campfire, fighting with the instincts honed over centuries. 

Tonight, she was going to feel their razor’s edge—except she was going to live to see the morning. 

Maybe that was why the vampire was feeling a little bit of…hesitation, for once. He’d done this song of seduction and dance of deception more times than he could remember. It would be easy as any night on his back. She would be no different. 

So he thought. 

Tav was paying all of her attention to the fragrant herbs she’d gathered into neat bundles, binding them together, singing their edges to combine them, and deftly blowing them out again. 

It made Astarion scoff to think the tiefling had time to be concerned over such trivial matters. Tadpoles in their heads. Death stalking them at every corner. And here was the ranger, worried about potion ingredients camp supplies. 

And here he was, charming a mere ranger. 

Astarion watched as she brushed her long hair over her shoulder and out of her way to continue focusing on her task. His eyes traced the marks still visible on her neck. The twin punctures were worn so openly, brazenly advertising that she’d so willingly let a vampire feed from her. 

That was his way in. Because he remembered how…intimate that encounter was. A foreign concept from a life of feeding on rotten rats—but he was more than familiar with the way her body trembled under his teeth.

Astarion rolled his shoulders back to relax, composed his face into a charming smile, and sauntered over to the fireplace. 

“Darling, there you are.” 

“Astarion!” Tav jumped, nearly dropping the herbs into the flames. “Gods, you’re quieter than any prey I’ve tracked.”

He gave a flippant wave to ward off her comment. If only she knew how groomed he was to stalk the most clever and dangerous of prey. 

“I was just thinking about you. Remembering our time together, the things we shared…”

Tav straightened up from her crouch at the fire. She arched an eyebrow, and rested her hand on her cocked hip. “Astarion, if you need blood—” 

“I don’t just mean that lovely neck of yours,” he interrupted smoothly. He made a point of his eyes traveling over her figure, wondering what was hidden under supple leather armor—worn, well-used armor.”I’m growing to like the whole package.” 

“Really?” Tav asked, her tone dripping with a skepticism he didn’t appreciate. “I didn’t think a little dirt would do it for ya.” 

Her bright eyes raked over his impeccably kept appearance, which he had still managed after an abduction and days out in the wilds, thank you very much. 

But then Astarion noticed the slight swish of her tail. Though tieflings weren’t as common among his targets, he’d charmed and manipulated a few in his endless nights on the streets. 

Tav was either irritated…or interested. 

And Astarion knew just how to tilt that reaction into his favor. 

“Honestly,” he protested, stepping a bit closer to her. “And, you clearly like me too.” 

Her tail slashed back and forth, disturbing the dust near the fire. Even as she wore that face of suspicion and doubt. Cute little thing. Like a kitten who thought her mewling was a roar.

 “Come now, don’t be coy.” Astarion stepped artfully into her personal space, crowding her against the log that Karlach had placed as a bench before the fire. “Your body has already given you away…I could feel it.” 

Tav swallowed, and his eyes were drawn right to the graceful slope of her neck. 

As if she needed any more reminding of the night he first fed from her. How she had laid her head back into his hold. How he nearly lost control when he tasted the sweet nectar flowing through her veins—he almost forgot how she squirmed under him, but didn’t push him away. Then, that traitorous tail of hers curled up at the point. 

She may as well have broadcast her arousal to the entire camp. 

Astarion raised a hand, ghosting his touch along the defiant line of her jaw, down to her throat and the fading marks his fangs had left behind. She didn’t flinch at his almost-caress. In fact, she was already tilting her chin to it. 

“The little shivers, when I was getting lost, in your neck…”

Some feeling bubbled up unbidden from within the vampire. That moment, his first time taking blood from a thinking creature, well he couldn’t help it if that was special to him too. Astarion could still feel her fingers coiling at the small hairs at the back of his own neck.

It was…intimate. Like hadn’t known before. 

No. 

He quickly buried the foreign desires and slipped back into the persona that never failed to stoke them in others. Want was a weapon in his arsenal, one that he could wield with lethal dexterity. 

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” 

Tav’s teeth bit into her bottom lip, and she must know that she’d been caught. The agitated flicking of her tail slowed. Astarion knew that he had her when the pointed tip began to curl. 

“So I did.” 

A triumphant grin tugged at the corners of the elf’s mouth. He, deliberately, tilted his head to her, so the setting sunlight might catch his gleaming fangs when he grinned. 

He was always so careful to conceal his nature from unsuspecting prey until he could pull them into the shadows. But Tav’s obvious attraction to his vampiric features was something he fully intended to exploit. 

Such a wicked weakness for good girl. 

“So did I, more than words could say.” He let his rich voice drip with honey as he finally let his cool fingers touch her heated skin, skimming deftly over the fading twin marks. 

Tav shivered under his hand, but didn’t pull away. 

He had her now. 

Astarion loomed closer, his cool breath ghosting over her pointed ear. “I was so…very pleased with what you gave me, darling. You deserve a reward.” 

He expected her to melt into the caress of hand and his words, but Tav stiffened under his attentions and pulled back. Confusion flickered over the elf’s face before he could conceal it behind an innocently wounded expression. What did he say wrong?

“I don’t need a reward, Astarion.” Tav’s tone was firm, but irritatingly gentle. Which just made him want to snap his fangs in frustration. She ducked back to pick up her abandoned herbs, bundling them up neatly, and literally slipping right out of his fingers. “Some people help just for the sake of helping, you know?”

Astarion bit back the scathing retort that rose to his lips. 

It wouldn’t do him any good in his current objective, and might just shatter the fragile mood he had so carefully constructed. 

Instead, he forced a disarming chuckle and slid onto the log seat next to her. “Of course dear, I simply meant we could take an evening to ourselves.” Her tail twitched next to him. “Get away from camp, get some…privacy.” 

Astarion’s silver tongue was not about to fail him now. Tav’s back was to him, taking her time packing her herbs away, a tension lingering in her shoulders that he wanted to sooth away with his hands—or his mouth. 

She was proving to be more of a challenge. No matter, he enjoyed a good game of cat and mouse. Though he had no intention of being the mouse. 

Tav turned back to face him, those jewel-like eyes scrutinizing his face, like she was trying to pierce the winsome smile he plied as a well-worn mask.

She leaned closer, bringing her earthy smell of herbs and leather and something wild that made something in him ache for more. To have her closer—to feed, obviously, nothing more. 

For a fleeting moment, Astarion was certain he had Tav ensnared at last. 

“We don’t need to leave camp for you to feed on me, you know?”

Gods dammit. 

There it was again, that insufferable, good-guy tone that made him want to tear his perfect curls—he’d already seen Tav run headlong into danger over some undeserving wretch just under the pretense of doing the right thing. It might just make Astarion ill. 

“And you don’t owe me for it, either.” The sincerity in her voice was making his cold skin crawl. 

Astarion had lived long enough to know that altruism was a myth. Benevolence was meant to beguile. And anyone offering a hand would want their palms greased. 

Tav was either a fool, or the trickiest devil he’d tangled with yet. 

The misunderstood outcast card was not his favorite hand to play, but it worked so well on those with a savior complex. 

“Oh, I understand.” Astarion said softly, arranging his face into a petulant pout. 

Tav’s brows furrowed, and she finally looked back up at him. “You do?”

“I do. Stealing off into the woods with a vampire…” He let his voice trail off, oh so hopelessly. “It is a lot to ask you to put your faith in me.” 

“Astarion, that’s not—” 

He cut her off with a wounded sigh. “You do not trust me.” 

Astarion stood and turned away, shoulders slumped in feigned dejection, waiting for her to take the bait.  She would get to her feet and follow. He could count it down in his head. 

Three, two, one…

“I do trust you.” Tav’s soft voice was almost pleading. 

A slow, satisfied smile curved Astarion’s lips, surprised she’d yet to faint from that bleeding heart. 

“Then, trust me.” Astarion purred, closing the distance between them in one sinuous stride. He loomed over her, feeling the rush of her pulse fluttering at the base of her neck. 

Tav reached for his hand, but the vampire deftly bypassed it. His long fingers encircled her wrist, the heat of her skin sinking into his palm and warming him already. 

Her eyes were wide, nearly luminous in the gathering dusk, but he let his gaze linger on her mouth, his own lips parting ever so slightly. 

“Trust me, when I promise you a night you will never forget.” He lowered his voice and let shadows fall over his crimson eyes. 

Tav shivered, and Astarion knew it had nothing to do with the temperate air. He could smell her arousal, heady and sweet, as obvious as the almost perfect curl her tiefling tail was making. 

“Okay,” she breathed, her word a little more than a sigh. “I trust you.”

A victorious grin spread over his lips and through his veins. He finally had her right where he wanted her. Under his hand as he cupped her cheek, drawing her close, his breath ghosting over her lips before finding her pointed ear.

“See you there, lover.” 

part 2

#It's already written not edited #Part two coming soon #Hard to write smut with someone making bad choices for themself #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #tav #astarion smut #astarion x female tav #baulders gate 3 #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #canon compliant

[randompandabaewrites]

Helpless in Her Hold

//The Drow twins' proposition of Tav surfaces some insecurities for Astaron. Hurt/Comfort, angst but happy ending. CW: Unhealthy relationship to sex/sexuality, identity issues. Not edited... Song Rec: Supposed to Be (Acoustic) By Icon for Hire//

Astarion x f!Tav, Canonish, Act 3

2.1k

Astarion watched, helpless, with his dead heart in his throat as the drow twins propositioned Tav. His Tav. He want to growl it and glower until no one else in this pleasure den deigned to offer their services.

Why did she have to be such a lure for elven whores?

Astarion leaned back against the wall, hardly resisting the urge to fold his arms and sulk in plain view of the whole party. He wasn’t a child whose toy was being played with—and yet, the brightness of her eyes and the laugh on her lips had him wanting to pout and whinge like a toddler.

“I appreciate the offer, I do, but I must decline.” Tav shook her head. Though personally the vampire thought she could be a little more rude in her rejection.

Because the damn twins were were still giving her looks that were far too inviting. Not that Tav saw, because her eyes had landed back on him, and Astarion was just thanking his lucky stars he’d perfected the mask he wore.

“Is that your partner?” The female drow asked, her smile making disgust creep up his spine—it was easy to see where this was going. “We’d be happy to have you both.”

“My dear, I’m afraid you’d be the one parting with your gold.” A high laugh slipped from Astarion’s lips. “And, I do doubt you could afford me.”

He saw the twins’ mirrored expressions of bewilderment turn to glee for only a flash before Tav was excusing herself from them. Swiftly stepping over to him with—that damnable look on her face.

Oh he knew those eyes, so drawn with her concern and on the verge of pity. Tav looked like that when she was about to do something so dreadfully kind it might make him wretch.

And he could not be the broken toy when she was being offered two shiny new ones.

“Astarion—” Tav began in that tone, and he had to preempt her.

“I know pet, tempting as it is, I simply must decline.”

“Yeah?” Tav utterly confounded him with that lifted smile. “That’s good.”

“Good..?” Astarion asked, his mind trying to race ahead. Find the traps and disarm them before they sprung.

She’d preached to him over and over again about his choice, and what he wanted and how that mattered to her for some reason.

Only for him to make a decision about the drow for her.

Shit.

It was a test. It had to be. She respected his choices, now he was expected to reciprocate.

“Ah I see.” Astarion inclined his head to her, a salacious smile on his lips. “You haven’t had much attention lately…it has been a while for us.”

Tav blinked, and then those bright eyes were on his, searching him out. The pale elf would cling to the façade by the skin of his fangs, if it meant he could keep her.

She turned, and Astarion prepared for the feeling of a stake through his heart.

“Well, if my partner isn’t interested, neither am I.” Tav brushed off the twins’ advances with as much grace as one could muster. Until they finally had the tact to move to other potential patrons.

She was already leading the way out of Sharess’ Caress before Astarion had recovered from his shock.

The cold night air near Baulder’s Gate finally woke him.

“You could have gone with them, you know.” He blurted, wondering why in the Hells she hadn’t. It wasn’t like he was satiating her hungers.

Astarion felt Tav shrug her shoulder through their linked hands. “I’m not interested in any little tryst if it’s at your expense.”

She said it so simple, so easy, as if it were hardly worth a second thought.

Astarion’s mind was still reeling, but he put on a smirk. “Stop being so kind to me; it almost makes me want to return the favor.” 

As if it were a debt he could ever repay her.

…

Hours later, Tav lay in her darkened room, sleep evading her. The soft click of a lock being picked made her tense, hand instinctively grasping the dagger beneath her pillow. But the familiar silhouette slipping through the door made her relax.

"Hello, my darling," Astarion purred as he approached, her darkvision letting her see how his ruby eyes glinted. “Haven’t you gotten accustom to me creeping into your bed?”

"It has been a moment since you came looking for a cuddle?" Tav teased softly, tilting her head. His appearance at this hour had her wondering. The dark of night and hushed voices already strummed tension in the air between them.

“I do seek…something akin to that.”

Astarion perched on the edge of the bed, long fingers skimming up her bare arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Despite all her thoughts trying to tame her reaction, for now.

"I merely wished to express my gratitude, my sweet. For standing by me, even knowing what I am. What I've done. And what I haven’t."

“What you…haven’t?” Her half-awake mind might be jumping to conclusions, surely. Twining their fingers together, Tav brought his hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. "You never have to thank me for that."

Astarion's eyes shimmered suspiciously in the darkness before he blinked it away, his trademark smirk back in place. "I want to thank you," he purred, “Won’t you, let me?”

He moved then, pressing her back into the soft pillow she’d been having trouble sleeping on after so many nights spent in the dirt.

Though the familiar weight of him was already making the bed more appealing. Now, just like every time he fed from her, he cradled her skull and tilted her head back so tenderly. It was comforting, it was an intimate moment she was happy to share with him.

His eyes didn’t meet hers as he ducked his head. Usually he lingered, to make sure Tav was alright before his fangs pierced her flesh. So why did she feel lips caressing her neck?

Her fingers slid into his hair, trying to get a grip on herself as much as she was on his curls.

“Star, what’s going on?”

The chuckle he gave was at the base of her neck, lips and tongue teasing at her collarbones in a way that made her skin tingle.

“Returning the favor.” He purred. “You deserve it.”

Tav swallowed under his clever mouth, trying to hear what her mind was screaming at her before it could be drowned out by the sweet words and sweeter lips.

Suddenly his face was swimming before hers, still not letting her catch his eye as he cupped her cheek. “So very few people get what they deserve—you, as always, should be the exception.”

Astation, with his ethereal beauty and perfect words, had her stunned. It wasn’t until he lowered his mouth to hers that her mind caught up.

“I don’t deserve anything you don’t wish to give.” Tav managed against his mouth, giving a gentle tug to his hair to get him to pull back.

“My sweet…I very much wish to give.”

That silver tongue slipped right past her protesting lips.

…

The elf was certain he had her when those hands slipped from his hair to cup his face in her palms. Her thumbs stroked over his high cheekbones.

“Astarion, wait.” Tav breathed.

He stilled, pulling back, fear flickering over his features as he was sure he’d somehow hurt her—when he saw it.

That damnable look in her eyes.

“Wait—we’ve done nothing but the waiting.” He snapped.

And Tav, damn her, gave a softer look still. “I’m willing to wait longer, as long as it takes.”

Astarion's posture stiffened, his back becoming an iron rod as he sat upright. "Is that how you see me then?" He couldn't keep the defensive edge from seeping into his voice. Drawing it like a blade when he felt his throat was bared.

"All shattered on the inside? Some broken doll you no longer play with? Am I to be put on a shelf and never touched again?"

“Astarion, you aren’t—” She moved to touch him, but he rose abruptly, evading her reach.

He didn’t even know why he did it. But the way her hand fell back to the bed, dejected, hurt him just as the pain he saw on her face.

"I know you aren’t fragile," Tav said with conviction, eyes pleading for him to understand.

“Then what? Am I some charity case to you? Is that what you get off on?”

Astarion hated it the moment he said it. But, the fangs showed whenever vulnerability crept up on him.

She stayed silent, and he had to fill that void before it consumed him.

“I’m not some delicate boy with a broken heart. I have wants. And I can see that you have them too. So, why not?”

“Is that what you want?” Tav smothered his outrage like a blanket over a campfire.

His shoulders sagged under the weight of his uncertainty.

“I don’t know.” The words barely escaped his lips before they broke apart into whispers of self-doubt. “Gods, I don’t know how to do any of this.” A frustrated hand raked through his white curls.

He wanted her. He wanted to see her looks of want and he wanted to be the one to fulfill her desires.

He wanted to keep her.

She sat up, legs hanging off the bed. And his eyes were drawn to the bare skin of her thighs exposed by her loose sleep clothes.

“Astarion, what do you want?”

He stared down at her, red eyes probing for a hint of the right answer. What did she want him to say? He would say it.

But Tav held without giving an inch.

“Why do you always ask the most difficult things?”

"I’m sorry." she whispered back.

"Don’t. I want—no, I need to know that I am still wanted by you." The confession fell from his lips like a plea. "You who’ve given me so much and seen broken I am. You who’ve made me wonder if I do indeed have any pieces left of my own soul…” The words were on his tongue, but his throat constricted around baring his neck one last time. “Do you still want me?”

“I will always want you.” Tav’s reply came without hesitation or doubt.

Either he had gotten to sloppy to see it—or there was simply no guile in her.

Tav reached out, her hand finding his where he stood frozen. He could feel the tension coursing through him—an all too familiar vulnerability that he constantly tried to suppress.

“Then let me give you something in return.” He dropped to his knees before her, desperation etched into every feature. .“Please, Tav.”

She lifted the hand she held, cupping it in both of hers, before she pressed his touch against her chest. And he had a moment to hope, that maybe, she would just let him give a fraction of what she’d given him.

“You’ve given me everything already, my heart.”

A scornful snort burst from him, everything in him prepared to banish her romanticized drivel with a dose of reality.

“This,” Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt over his chest. “Past the petty armor you wear. Beneath the pretty face and clever tongue,” She yanked him close before he could quip back.“That is what you give me; parts of you that you’ve given to no one else.”

When he looked at her then, he had no idea what she might see, even if he could use a mirror.

“Your kindness, your hurt, your wants. The truth of you. That’s what I want.”

“I can’t give—“ Astarion couldn’t get this damn silver tongue of his around a his words. “I don’t know what that is…who I am.”

“Then we can both find out. That’s all I ask of you.”

He swallowed hard as her words left him parched and speechless. The notion that he might still have something to offer, a piece of himself that was untouched.

Astarion found himself staring at her, wonder and disbelief battling for dominance in his gaze.

A gentleness tugged at Tav's lips. And for a fleeting moment, Astarion dared to believe that perhaps he could have this.

He moved up, but only to wrap his arms around her. To engulf her in his embrace. Just as that night when she wrapped her arms around him, and first showed him that there was affection, there was closeness, without the expectation of more.

Astarion would be just fine if he was helpless in her arms.

#the joy that filled me at reading this #thank you so much ❤️❤️ #😈 also I love making readers cry #and other feelings too but hehehe

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Scene notes: I like to pretend I’m organized as a writer and I name my scenes in my files very clearly so future me will know what they are at a glance.

Tell me why I looked in my BG3/Astarion file and saw this:

“First bite”

“Stargazing Scene”

“Happy” (???)

"First Night - Born to Survive" (WIP)

“Hangry Little Vampire”

And…drum roll

“Emotional Hand Job”

(Self, why? Just why??)

#I opened this file during a zoom call once #had to pretend my laugh was a sneeze #writing behind the scenes #wip wednesday #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #baulders gate 3

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I like to say erotica is sensation. Romance is emotion. And my definition of good smut is both.

the secret to writing good smut that doesn't feel like you're just repeating the same words for junk and fucking over and over is to spend your effort writing about everything happening around the sex and everything happening inside the heads of the people having sex and before you know it you have four paragraphs of introspection and two paragraphs describing the space and it's okay to use the word cock again

#imo #feel free to disagree ❤️

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Wyllstarion - Post Game Drabbles

//I'm counting this as a WIP Wednesday because I know me, and me will not be able to get this out of her head.//

SFW

They're basically made for each other. But spesifically to grow into each other. Wyll is literally the knight in shining armor Astarion says he dreamed about.

Wyll on the other hand needs someone to stand up for him and encourage him to be selfish sometimes. He also has a thing for paranormal romance (see his convo with shadowheart about mermaid erotica) Ironic as he's a monster hunter.

Astarion constantly calling Wyll a sweet fool, with increasing affection.

Astarion fits perfectly into the noble life, and riding the wave of being the heroes of Baulder's Gate, Wyll is going to be the new Archduke. And the vampire is /thrilled/ to be setting up the plans and parties.

Wyll suggest they can do the coronation and the wedding in the same ceremony, knowing that Astarion would love the spectacle.

Astarion says absoutely not. Wyll has one day fully about him and all he's sacrificed for the Gate and he's going to have it, dammit. Besides, this means the vampire gets to plan his own wedding--something he'd never thought he'd do. He boasts to Wyll that it will be another lavish party that will go down in the histories as far grander than the coronation anyway.

Astation surprises Wyll with an elegant but private ceremony with only their friends--their family.

Whoops, did he forget to inform Wyll's father? What a pity.

Astarion being the son-in-law of Ulder Ravengard's nightmares.

NSFW

H/C Wyll is demi-sexual. Astarion is a switch that leans bottom, but Wyll brings out his inner needy brat. Wyll is willing (sorry not sorry) to give or take whatever his vamp needs.

Astarion has a lot of healing to do when it comes to sex and intimacy, and he's very insecure about this. Wyll is more than happy to wait. Until they've formed a greater bond and sex is about that bond and intimacy.

Once they're engaged, and with Cazador dead, Astarion is ready to jump Wyll's bones at any provocation.

Wyll is indulgent but says why not wait until the wedding when they're so close to it. Astarion is foppishly distraught, but respects Wyll's wishes. Mostly.

He'll get his prince charming up to do everything...up to the point of fucking him properly. It's a delightful torment for them both. Wyll gets Astarion to slow down and teach him what he likes, and Astarion gets to be the tease and tempter without hurting anyone.

Astarion would love to be the one to break his Wyll.

#They're stuck in my head like a tadpole #astarion #wyllstarion #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #wip wednesday #astarion smut

[randompandabaewrites]

Helpless in Her Hold

//The Drow twins' proposition of Tav surfaces some insecurities for Astaron. Hurt/Comfort, angst but happy ending. CW: Unhealthy relationship to sex/sexuality, identity issues. Not edited... Song Rec: Supposed to Be (Acoustic) By Icon for Hire//

Astarion x f!Tav, Canonish, Act 3

2.1k

Astarion watched, helpless, with his dead heart in his throat as the drow twins propositioned Tav. His Tav. He want to growl it and glower until no one else in this pleasure den deigned to offer their services.

Why did she have to be such a lure for elven whores?

Astarion leaned back against the wall, hardly resisting the urge to fold his arms and sulk in plain view of the whole party. He wasn’t a child whose toy was being played with—and yet, the brightness of her eyes and the laugh on her lips had him wanting to pout and whinge like a toddler.

“I appreciate the offer, I do, but I must decline.” Tav shook her head. Though personally the vampire thought she could be a little more rude in her rejection.

Because the damn twins were were still giving her looks that were far too inviting. Not that Tav saw, because her eyes had landed back on him, and Astarion was just thanking his lucky stars he’d perfected the mask he wore.

“Is that your partner?” The female drow asked, her smile making disgust creep up his spine—it was easy to see where this was going. “We’d be happy to have you both.”

“My dear, I’m afraid you’d be the one parting with your gold.” A high laugh slipped from Astarion’s lips. “And, I do doubt you could afford me.”

He saw the twins’ mirrored expressions of bewilderment turn to glee for only a flash before Tav was excusing herself from them. Swiftly stepping over to him with—that damnable look on her face.

Oh he knew those eyes, so drawn with her concern and on the verge of pity. Tav looked like that when she was about to do something so dreadfully kind it might make him wretch.

And he could not be the broken toy when she was being offered two shiny new ones.

“Astarion—” Tav began in that tone, and he had to preempt her.

“I know pet, tempting as it is, I simply must decline.”

“Yeah?” Tav utterly confounded him with that lifted smile. “That’s good.”

“Good..?” Astarion asked, his mind trying to race ahead. Find the traps and disarm them before they sprung.

She’d preached to him over and over again about his choice, and what he wanted and how that mattered to her for some reason.

Only for him to make a decision about the drow for her.

Shit.

It was a test. It had to be. She respected his choices, now he was expected to reciprocate.

“Ah I see.” Astarion inclined his head to her, a salacious smile on his lips. “You haven’t had much attention lately…it has been a while for us.”

Tav blinked, and then those bright eyes were on his, searching him out. The pale elf would cling to the façade by the skin of his fangs, if it meant he could keep her.

She turned, and Astarion prepared for the feeling of a stake through his heart.

“Well, if my partner isn’t interested, neither am I.” Tav brushed off the twins’ advances with as much grace as one could muster. Until they finally had the tact to move to other potential patrons.

She was already leading the way out of Sharess’ Caress before Astarion had recovered from his shock.

The cold night air near Baulder’s Gate finally woke him.

“You could have gone with them, you know.” He blurted, wondering why in the Hells she hadn’t. It wasn’t like he was satiating her hungers.

Astarion felt Tav shrug her shoulder through their linked hands. “I’m not interested in any little tryst if it’s at your expense.”

She said it so simple, so easy, as if it were hardly worth a second thought.

Astarion’s mind was still reeling, but he put on a smirk. “Stop being so kind to me; it almost makes me want to return the favor.” 

As if it were a debt he could ever repay her.

…

Hours later, Tav lay in her darkened room, sleep evading her. The soft click of a lock being picked made her tense, hand instinctively grasping the dagger beneath her pillow. But the familiar silhouette slipping through the door made her relax.

"Hello, my darling," Astarion purred as he approached, her darkvision letting her see how his ruby eyes glinted. “Haven’t you gotten accustom to me creeping into your bed?”

"It has been a moment since you came looking for a cuddle?" Tav teased softly, tilting her head. His appearance at this hour had her wondering. The dark of night and hushed voices already strummed tension in the air between them.

“I do seek…something akin to that.”

Astarion perched on the edge of the bed, long fingers skimming up her bare arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Despite all her thoughts trying to tame her reaction, for now.

"I merely wished to express my gratitude, my sweet. For standing by me, even knowing what I am. What I've done. And what I haven’t."

“What you…haven’t?” Her half-awake mind might be jumping to conclusions, surely. Twining their fingers together, Tav brought his hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. "You never have to thank me for that."

Astarion's eyes shimmered suspiciously in the darkness before he blinked it away, his trademark smirk back in place. "I want to thank you," he purred, “Won’t you, let me?”

He moved then, pressing her back into the soft pillow she’d been having trouble sleeping on after so many nights spent in the dirt.

Though the familiar weight of him was already making the bed more appealing. Now, just like every time he fed from her, he cradled her skull and tilted her head back so tenderly. It was comforting, it was an intimate moment she was happy to share with him.

His eyes didn’t meet hers as he ducked his head. Usually he lingered, to make sure Tav was alright before his fangs pierced her flesh. So why did she feel lips caressing her neck?

Her fingers slid into his hair, trying to get a grip on herself as much as she was on his curls.

“Star, what’s going on?”

The chuckle he gave was at the base of her neck, lips and tongue teasing at her collarbones in a way that made her skin tingle.

“Returning the favor.” He purred. “You deserve it.”

Tav swallowed under his clever mouth, trying to hear what her mind was screaming at her before it could be drowned out by the sweet words and sweeter lips.

Suddenly his face was swimming before hers, still not letting her catch his eye as he cupped her cheek. “So very few people get what they deserve—you, as always, should be the exception.”

Astation, with his ethereal beauty and perfect words, had her stunned. It wasn’t until he lowered his mouth to hers that her mind caught up.

“I don’t deserve anything you don’t wish to give.” Tav managed against his mouth, giving a gentle tug to his hair to get him to pull back.

“My sweet…I very much wish to give.”

That silver tongue slipped right past her protesting lips.

…

The elf was certain he had her when those hands slipped from his hair to cup his face in her palms. Her thumbs stroked over his high cheekbones.

“Astarion, wait.” Tav breathed.

He stilled, pulling back, fear flickering over his features as he was sure he’d somehow hurt her—when he saw it.

That damnable look in her eyes.

“Wait—we’ve done nothing but the waiting.” He snapped.

And Tav, damn her, gave a softer look still. “I’m willing to wait longer, as long as it takes.”

Astarion's posture stiffened, his back becoming an iron rod as he sat upright. "Is that how you see me then?" He couldn't keep the defensive edge from seeping into his voice. Drawing it like a blade when he felt his throat was bared.

"All shattered on the inside? Some broken doll you no longer play with? Am I to be put on a shelf and never touched again?"

“Astarion, you aren’t—” She moved to touch him, but he rose abruptly, evading her reach.

He didn’t even know why he did it. But the way her hand fell back to the bed, dejected, hurt him just as the pain he saw on her face.

"I know you aren’t fragile," Tav said with conviction, eyes pleading for him to understand.

“Then what? Am I some charity case to you? Is that what you get off on?”

Astarion hated it the moment he said it. But, the fangs showed whenever vulnerability crept up on him.

She stayed silent, and he had to fill that void before it consumed him.

“I’m not some delicate boy with a broken heart. I have wants. And I can see that you have them too. So, why not?”

“Is that what you want?” Tav smothered his outrage like a blanket over a campfire.

His shoulders sagged under the weight of his uncertainty.

“I don’t know.” The words barely escaped his lips before they broke apart into whispers of self-doubt. “Gods, I don’t know how to do any of this.” A frustrated hand raked through his white curls.

He wanted her. He wanted to see her looks of want and he wanted to be the one to fulfill her desires.

He wanted to keep her.

She sat up, legs hanging off the bed. And his eyes were drawn to the bare skin of her thighs exposed by her loose sleep clothes.

“Astarion, what do you want?”

He stared down at her, red eyes probing for a hint of the right answer. What did she want him to say? He would say it.

But Tav held without giving an inch.

“Why do you always ask the most difficult things?”

"I’m sorry." she whispered back.

"Don’t. I want—no, I need to know that I am still wanted by you." The confession fell from his lips like a plea. "You who’ve given me so much and seen broken I am. You who’ve made me wonder if I do indeed have any pieces left of my own soul…” The words were on his tongue, but his throat constricted around baring his neck one last time. “Do you still want me?”

“I will always want you.” Tav’s reply came without hesitation or doubt.

Either he had gotten to sloppy to see it—or there was simply no guile in her.

Tav reached out, her hand finding his where he stood frozen. He could feel the tension coursing through him—an all too familiar vulnerability that he constantly tried to suppress.

“Then let me give you something in return.” He dropped to his knees before her, desperation etched into every feature. .“Please, Tav.”

She lifted the hand she held, cupping it in both of hers, before she pressed his touch against her chest. And he had a moment to hope, that maybe, she would just let him give a fraction of what she’d given him.

“You’ve given me everything already, my heart.”

A scornful snort burst from him, everything in him prepared to banish her romanticized drivel with a dose of reality.

“This,” Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt over his chest. “Past the petty armor you wear. Beneath the pretty face and clever tongue,” She yanked him close before he could quip back.“That is what you give me; parts of you that you’ve given to no one else.”

When he looked at her then, he had no idea what she might see, even if he could use a mirror.

“Your kindness, your hurt, your wants. The truth of you. That’s what I want.”

“I can’t give—“ Astarion couldn’t get this damn silver tongue of his around a his words. “I don’t know what that is…who I am.”

“Then we can both find out. That’s all I ask of you.”

He swallowed hard as her words left him parched and speechless. The notion that he might still have something to offer, a piece of himself that was untouched.

Astarion found himself staring at her, wonder and disbelief battling for dominance in his gaze.

A gentleness tugged at Tav's lips. And for a fleeting moment, Astarion dared to believe that perhaps he could have this.

He moved up, but only to wrap his arms around her. To engulf her in his embrace. Just as that night when she wrapped her arms around him, and first showed him that there was affection, there was closeness, without the expectation of more.

Astarion would be just fine if he was helpless in her arms.

#Well its not just fluff this time #“tell me who I'm supposed to be now” #“Make me better” #“I can't stay halfway dead forever” #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #tav #astarion x female tav #astarion angst #astarion fic #icon for hire

[randompandabaewrites]

Astarion X F! Tav. Mindless Fluff with even less plot than usual 🤣 , and a tiny bit of soft borderline smut. Another self-indulgent work.

Relationship scenario: Cuddle Chemical Addiction. You just sleep better with your love by your side, and wake up immediately when they're gone.

[randompandabaewrites]

You are Safe - Deepest Desires

//One shot of Deepest Desires - Astarion Drabble. Very fluffy/comforting smut with many feelings. Not edited... Song Rec: Light by Sleeping at Last//

Explicit, Astarion x f!Tav, post cannon, 2.2k

cw: coping with sex/intimacy issues & allusions to Astarion's past

Astarion Ancunin was a sight to behold in any light.

The moon might make him look like some ethereally wicked beauty, but Tav much preferred the golden glow they were bathed in now. 

She sank into the plush leather sofa near the crackling hearth, cradling a cup of mulled wine. The spiced aroma chased away the chill of the night fallen outside the inn as her eyes drew lazily over the trophies adoring the walls—swords, shields, mounted heads of beasts. Theirs was just another story to add to the collection. 

Tav might be warmer still, without the vampire stretched out languidly beside her, but she would not give up the comfort of his closeness for the world.

“You know, I still don’t like being the hero. It is beyond tedium. ”

Astarion mused over the rim of his cup, as if he could detect her thoughts and had to refute them. 

“That so? You play the part so well.” Tav quipped back lovingly. 

“Well, I suppose I do enjoy all of the fawning adulation.”  Astarion mused. “And the gold, of course.” 

Tav shook her head fondly. She’d let him maintain the charade as long as he liked; she had already seen under the mask. He sent a smirk her way, his ruby eyes glinting with the firelight. Distracting her from the way he was balancing his goblet on its very edge, one of his dexterous fingers on lip of the drink, tilting further and further as if he dared the wine inside to spill. 

Or he was simply teasing Tav with the threat of it. 

“Beggin’ your pardon,” The inn keeper, a matronly half-orc with a smile around her tusks approached them. “Finest room we have is ready for ya, token of our gratitude for dealin’ with our Worg problem.”

“Thank you, Gerda, that’s too kind of you.” Tav said graciously. “We’re happy we could help.” 

She shot her companion a glance, but he was intently finishing his wine with only a raise of his eyebrows. 

She felt Astarion’s eyes on her as she conversed cordially with the inn keeper, his gaze as tangible as a caress along her cheek. Tav knew the warmth of that look. Little flickering moments of unguarded affection more sincere than any pretty picture his words could paint. 

The only recognition Tav gave was the smile at the corner of her lips. Because that was the game they played. Sparing his pride until the rest of the world faded away. 

This. This was everything she fought for. These quiet nights  brighter than any flames. 

…

Soon they retreated to the comfort of their room after a long day. Astarion led her up the stairs, silently twining their fingers together. Tav knew it was another gesture she wasn’t supposed to linger on, but if he kept this up, the dam would burst sooner rather than later. 

He pushed the door to their chambers open with an overly theatrical flourish. “Not quite fit for a king…but I suppose it will do.” 

Tav rolled her eyes, stepping past him to take in a very comfortable room that was downright luxurious in its details. Plush carpet, dark wood walls, and a canopied bed piled with silken sheets and pillows. 

“After sleeping in bedrools on the hard ground,” Tav put her hands on her hips, a smile on her lips with her tone placating him. “I think it will suffice.” 

Astarion came up behind her then, his cool breath ghosting over her ear as he murmured. “Then it is a shame you will not have the time to admire the finer details.” 

In the second of warning he gave, Tav knew well he could hear every uptick of her heart.

Astarion had her spun around, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. Tav’s back hit the wall with a soft thud, her lover’s lithe body pinning her in place as he lifted their still entwined hands above her head. 

Those clever fingers hand already snuck under the hem of her tunic, drawing lines over the swell of her hip. 

“I have all that I need to admire.” Tav arched to the touch with a sigh as she finally exhaled. 

“Such flattery.” Astarion’s smirk was downright sinful, sending heat and want curling through her. Those ruby eyes glinted bright in the soft firelight of the room. 

Soon, their packs were dropped to the side, shedding the last trappings of battle with the armor and gore already tucked away. Leaving no more barriors between them as passion sparked in the scant space between them. His nibble fingers made quick work of the laces of her tunic, the fabric falling away to expose her collarbones, and her chest. 

Tav lifted her chin, playfully offering her neck, knowing how it thrilled him though he would not bite—not just yet. But Astarion would duck his head to draw his teeth teasingly along the colomn of her throat. 

She peered over his white curls. “My love, the door is still—” A sharp kick shut the door, and its lever lock clicked into place. “Thank you.” 

Astarion’s scoff tingled against her pulse point. He was far more preoccupied with mapping out the newly exposed skin, like it hadn’t been under his lips a thousand times. As if he wasn’t intimately familiar and once again confident with his ability to drive her mad. As if she didn’t know him just as well. 

When he pulled back to rid her of her pesky tunic, she used her chance. Tav’s fingers slid into his silky curls, just brushing her thumbs over the tips of his pointed ears. 

That got his attention. 

Astarion made a low, pleased sound in the back of his throat, finding her mouth again. 

The kisses grew more urgent as Astarion pressed Tav back against the wood-paneled wall, her arms around his shoulders as he used his thigh to part hers. 

Easy as could be, like they were dancing together again. Tav took his lead, her leg hooked around his waist before he had to reach for her. Their bodies were brought flush together--letting her feel the hard press of his arousal. 

“It would be a shame,” Tav murmured against the vampire’s lips. “Not to make use of the bed, don’t you think? I know how much you do enjoy fine linens.” 

Astarion laughed, the sound decadent yet playful. “My darling, the only thing more appealing than being wrapped up in silk, is being wrapped up in you.” 

Heat flooded into her cheeks, just like he knew it would. Even now, his lines always worked on her. 

Tav reached for the hem of Astarion’s shirt, ridding him of it and letting it join her tunic on the floor. He was already walking her back towards the bed—but it just wasn’t enough to map out the planes of his chest with her fingers, hooking into the waist of his breaches. 

“Can I?” Tav lifted her eyes, her mouth already watering. 

“You hardly have to ask.” He purred, pecking her lips just once more. “But…I’m glad that you did.” 

She always would. Sometimes to his annoyance, but the vampire seemed more than in the mood to humor her sweetness tonight.  Astarion freed his cock from his breeches as he sat back on the bed, stroking himself languidly, watching her with bright ruby eyes as she eagerly sank to her knees. 

He was so damn gorgeous like this, confident in seeking his pleasure, knowing Tav was more than willing to give. 

Her hand curled around his, before she was drawing the tip of him between her lips. She adored the sweet, strangled sound he gave as he relenquished his hold to her, those deft fingers threading into her hair as she swallowed him down. 

Tav loved him like this. Loved that she was the one who got to see Astarion this way—wanting and vulnerable and utterly hers. 

She poured every ounce of devotion into the slide of her mouth, wanting him to shatter from it. For all pretense to fall away like the filthy praise faltering from his lips, and let her catch him when he fell. 

Astarion tensed under her, the muscles in his thighs and the hand in her hair gone ridgid. 

Tav pulled back, her eyes seeking his, looking for the glassy sheen to cover his red irises or the distance in his gaze. “You can let go, love.” lacing the reassurance his ego sometimes spurned in a seductive purr. “I want you to.” 

Astarion’s scoff was breathier than he intended, she could see it on his face, but the hand in her hair curled around her chin, capturing her jaw as he bent to claim her lips. 

“As tempting as that mouth of yours may be…I’d much rather be inside you.” 

Her pulse quickened under his hold. 

Tav was on her feet, ridding herself of any thing that could get between them. Before straddling Astarion’s lap. Reveling in his groan as he tasted himself on her tongue. 

Those damned fingers of his were already delving between her soaked folds, thumbing her clit so perfectly it was maddening in an instant. 

“Astarion, please…” Tav breathed against his mouth. 

“I know darling.” His grin nipped at her lower lip, fingers sliding into her and curling just so. “No one knows you as I do.”

He was distracting her, and he was so very, very good at it. Tav rocked needily into him, pleasure sparking up her spine. Her fingers  clutched into the fine curls at the back of his neck. Trying to ground herself to meet his burning gaze. 

“No one loves you as I do.” 

Something beautifully yearning moved across his face. The ghost of a longing to be known—and to still be loved. It was all he could never bring himself to ask for, and yet she gave it, freely, whenever she thought he may need it. 

The next meeting of their lips was filled with nothing but tenderness, even as he pulled her closer still, breaking only as he filled her completely. 

Astarion’s grip tightened on her hips, and Tav understood. 

She let him bear her back onto the plush bed, surrendering to his need for control. Her hands fell back to either side of the pillow, as she searched the ethereal beauty of his face above her, assuring herself that he wasn’t lost to the old shadows. 

Clear crimson eyes gazed back at her, their only darkness that of desire. 

Satisfied, Tav wrapped her legs around Astarion’s waist, urging him deeper inside her. He obliged her with a precise roll of his hips that nearly had stars bursting behind her eyelids. 

“That’s it, my love.” Astarion purred, his breath played over her lips as his body moved with hers, sweet and aching, their fingers wound together even as he kept her wrists pinned. 

Tav could feel the edge of her bliss tugging at her, the way she clenched desperately around his cock, it was so damn close—

Astarion shuddered above her, tensing on instinct, resisting that final surrender, even now. His old wounds would never go fully away, but she could soothe them when they surfaced. Because she knew him. 

“Let go, my love, I have you.” 

He did, spilling into her with a choked cry, his hips snapping hard and fast into hers, sending pleasure that arched up her spine until it overwhelmed her. 

Spent, still tangled together, collapsed together. 

Astarion’s cool skin was a balm against her heated body, when he finally released her hands. Tav’s arms wrapped around him, feeling the faintest of trembling in the raw moments after.  He hid his face crook of her shoulder, letting her fingers slide through his curls. 

Tav shifted only enough to bare her throat to him, remembering how he teased that she tasted better shortly after their coupling. 

Far from a distraction, it was a gesture of the intimate trsut they shared. Astarion only hesitated a moment, before sharp fangs pierced her skin, and Tav relaxed into the familiar heat and sting. 

He drank from her, lost in the bliss of her blood. Comforted by the familiarity of it. 

When the vampire pulled back, a trickle of red dripped from his grin, and Tav swiped it away with her thumb. 

Astarion turned his face into her touch, a kiss pressed into her palm. Before he gathered her into his arms for the rest of the night. 

…

Golden sunlight crept across the room as dark became day. 

Astarion stayed with his head tucked under Tav’s chin, her heart beat a comforting rhythm against his ear. He stirred only as the warm glow softened his sharp features, and she finally gave in to the urge to trace the contours of his face. 

Astarion’s eyes fluttered open, immediately seeking hers. A lazy smirk tugged at his lips as he lifted a hand to caress her cheek in turn, the warmth of the Ring of Daylight around his fourth finger a delicious contrast to his cool skin. 

“Looking for a cuddle?” he asked, his tone playful yet tender, echoing their first morning together.

Tav laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “Always,” she replied, her heart swelling with love for this man who had come so far, who had learned to trust and to love despite everything he’d endured.

Their fingers intertwined with the comforting sound of his ring meeting hers. Warmed by the golden light forevermore. 

#astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #Astarion smut #Astarion fluf #tav #astarion x reader #bg3 fic #astarion ancunin #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader fluff #astarion x female reader

[randompandabaewrites]

WIP Wednesday

//I don't know how to tumblr anymore. But! I am working on the one shot of the Deepest Desires - Astarion Drabble //

Final will be smutty but sweet

The kisses grew more urgent as Astarion pressed Tav back against the wood-paneled wall, keeping her hands captured in one of his and using his thigh to part hers. Easy as could be, like they were dancing together again. Tav took his lead, her leg hooked around his waist before he had to reach for her. Their bodies were brought flush together--letting her feel the hard press of his arousal. "It would be a shame," Tav murmured against the vampire's lips. "Not to make use of the bed, don't you think? I know how much you do enjoy fine linens." Astarion laughed, the sound decadent yet playful. "My darling, the only thing more appealing than being wrapped up in silk, is being wrapped up in you."

#idk what I'm doing #wip wednesday #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #tav #astarion x reader #This doesn't count as x reader does it??

[randompandabaewrites]

Me: I am a smut writer. I write filthy, dirty, smutty smut.

*all my fluffy af posts about my precious kicked puppy murderer character*

Me: ...shut up

#Astarion is turning me to mush #this is supposed to be a side smut blog #not a secret fluff stash #There will be smut #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #wyllstarion

[randompandabaewrites]

Karlach Carrying Astarion - Drabble

//Cause I see this a lot and I luuuuv it.//

Fluffy, but I could ship it.

- Yes, Astarion is absolutely a drama queen when it comes to long journeys. Especially climbing. He’s a complainer, he makes his minor inconveniences everyone else’s problem, and somehow he has the energy to monologue but not get up the damn hill.

- Everyone is irritated, other than Wyll who is happy to quip with the foppy vampire. Shadowheart tells Astarion to shut up, which just eggs him on. Lae’zel might threaten to close his mouth for him—actually she doesn’t, because that would shut him up. The rest of the party just climbs up without him. 

- Karlach is a simple gal with a simple solution. She takes the pretty little perfectly composed vampire—and tosses him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. And continues right up the hill. 

- Astarion reacts like a cat who doesn’t want to be picked up, but he can verbalize his sass. He might even say he’ll bite her, to which Karlach says something like don’t threaten me with a good time, Fangs. 

- Of course, he still lets her climb the cliff for him. 

- But as soon as they’re at the top, he squirms free and goes to tell Karlach off. The audacity of her. 

-But the thing is, if anyone knows how to give a tongue lashing, it’s Astarion—and he isn’t even trying. Because it’s Karlach. And Karlach looks about as a repentant as a Great Dane scolded by a Corgi.

- He huffs that it’s indignant for him to have his arse in the air like that. “Oh, that it then? Just want more flair, pretty boy?” Karlach says brightly, sweeping open her arms with a little bow. Before promptly scooping Astarion up bridal style. 

- There’s a moment of hesitation, on both their ends. Karlach wondering if he’s alright this. Astarion steeling himself against the feeling—because he can’t bare to enjoy the warmth of her touch if it’s going to be ripped away. 

- But when neither balks, Karlach takes a step. And Astarion makes himself comfortable as they catch up to the rest of the party. Daring anyone to say anything untoward with his blood-red gaze. 

-Apparently vampires can indeed blush. 

#they're just so cute #shipped or not shipped #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #starlach #hellspawn #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 drabble #astarion acunin #does karlach have a last name?? #fluff #cuteness #Karlach

[randompandabaewrites]

Deepest Desires - Astarion

Drabble based on dialogue from a nymph who gives companions a brief moment of their truest ecstasy—these will break your heart. [Link]

A/N: Astarion deserves the world D: // I should write a full scene of this I did

Astarion x Gn!Reader/You - non-explicit sex, fluff, feeeeelings

MDNI

The winds of fate blow you to the warmest of hearths in the most cordial of inns.

Astarion isn't ones for plans, but, somehow, you and he always save the day. And earn plenty of coin. Tonight you are guests at an inn. The room is bathed in a golden glow as you sit together, eyeing the trophies and momentos of grand adventures that line the warm walls. Having a warm drink to further chase out the chill of night.

He tells you once again with a smirk that he's never liked being the hero, but actually he's grown rather fond of it. Astarion insists it's the admiration, and the gold, of course, but there's no hiding the fondness in his gaze when he thinks you aren't looking.

Your seething passions lead only to pleasure.

Astarion leads the way to your room for the night. It's not quite fit for a king, but more than up to his standards. Besides, the only thing more appealing to him than being wrapped up in silk, is being wrapped up in you. The vampire's hands seek the warmth of your body with the ease and confidence born of familiarity. Your eagerness for each other has never faded it, and he never will.

Though he insists he does not require reassurance, you will give it, whenever you feel he needs to hear it. But Astarion knows his darling offers more than just carnal comfort. He murmurs sweet nothings and everythings against your ear as his hips rock into yours, pressing your wrists back into the soft bedding. He tenses, but you only encourage him to come undone.

As Astarion collapses into you, his head buried in the crook of your neck—you offer him your throat. Thinking nothing more than how he likes the taste of bliss in your blood.

The touch of the sun comforts your flesh, but never burns it.

The two of you stay intertwined throughout the night. The steady rhythm of your heart against Astarion's ear always eases him into peaceful sleep. He does not stir, even as the day breaks beyond the gossamer curtains, and you will not be the one to wake him.

Astarion stretches luxuriously as the sunlight falls over the skin of his back and lights his curls. When he lifts a hand to brush your cheek, the Ring of Daylight is noticeably warmer than his touch.

"Looking for a cuddle?" Astarion greets you with a lazy smile. As he finds your hand, your fingers intertwine, your own ring matching his.

You are safe.

#there's one for karlach #I need it #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #baulders gate 3 #astarion smut #hunger games #halstarion #greys anatomy #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x oc #astarion x reader fluff #bg3 #bg3 astarion