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thedevilssinner · 7 months

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Elven soulmates - Astarion x Elf!Tav - Headcanon

I listened to one song and for some reason it screamed Astarion x Tav at me. This man is really ruining my life 😅

Anyway… the song was ‘IDK you yet’ and I just thought about the two of them being soulmates or something like that and then I found a thread on https://www.enworld.org about elven relationships and someone mentioned soulmates which got me searching and I found this page https://www.realmshelps.net/charbuild/races/elf/leaf.shtml where is mentioned that elves can find someone they call their thiramin which should mean soulmate in elvish language.

Here’s the part from the https://www.realmshelps.net :

Upon reaching adulthood, elves continue their sexual explorations. Eventually, though, each discovers that his heart has developed a capacity for lasting and exclusive love. Like most other important things in their lives, elves describe this in mystical terms. They believe that a person's spiritual progress is unknowingly intertwined with that of another. This soulmate is called a thiramin. Upon meeting his thiramin, an elf's heart fills with passion and certainty. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the other party is felled by the same feeling of immediate and eternal devotion. (Though rare, an unrequited feeling of thiramin is always disastrous, bringing centuries of wrenching heartbreak. Sufferers often commit suicide or succumb to the temptations of evil.) Elves almost always feel thiramin for people they meet for the first time: In other words, visitors from other communities. Intermarriage between communities strengthens the bonds of communication between settlements, allowing them to quickly band together against the armies of evil that march across the land.

Now… You can imagine what that did to me, when I thought about the idea of Elf Tav knowing Astarion before he was turned into a vampire so… here’s some headcanons. Suffer with me.

Tav and Astarion met in Baldur's gate. Tav being new to the city. Young elf exploring the world outside their home.

Maybe they met in an art gallery or a tavern or some other place… that’s up to you, but when their eyes met, they immediately knew the other one was their thiramin. Heart beating wildly as they smile at each other.

They start dating, of course. Trying to get to know each other and spend as much time together as possible.

I think that Tav would call Astarion their star… or maybe even ‘my starry night’

Astarion would call them ‘my moon’ (idk, I just love the idea of them using moon and stars as pet names)

Or… inspired by Game of Thrones - Astarion would call Tav ‘my sun and stars' while Tav would call him ‘the moon of my life’

Maybe they dated for a year or two, thinking about buying a house together.

But then Astarion was beaten ‘to death’ by the Gurs.

Tav could immediately tell that something was terribly wrong. The connection they felt with Astarion severing and sharp pain piercing through their heart. Panicked, they tried to find Astarion, going to his home but they already came too late.

Their blood turned into ice when they saw the mercenaries from the Flaming Fist already around his home. Seeing them carrying an awfully pale and beaten body of Astarion. (I don't remember if it was mentioned if Astarion lived in a Lower or Upper city before he was turned, so I chose a Lower city 🤷🏻‍♀️) (Also, not sure how and where exactly were he turned so I hope this is fine)

After a few days, Tav still couldn’t comprehend what truly happened. They felt just… empty. As if every color, every piece of happiness was ripped away from their soul. Not even able to visit Astarion’s grave because of that.

When Tav's family found out, they came to them, taking them to their homeland, because they knew how bad losing your soulmate could end for an elf. Tav fell into a deep grief and depression that lasted almost 100 years, doing some questionable things here and there until they started to function again.

On the other side - Astarion was beaten by Gurs but his final death came from Cazador, the change itself working just like if he truly died. His connection to Tav is severed and the shock of his change into a vampire erases all memory of them from his mind.

And then the 200 years of torture begin. Astarion doing anything he could and needed to do for survival. Flirting and luring victims to Cazador. He was good at it, great even, but something always felt wrong.

Well, everything he did for Cazador was wrong, but touching another person, sleeping with them, and whispering words of love to them seemed wrong for another reason he couldn't understand. It was as if his subconscious was always trying to tell him something, but he couldn't say what.

There was just always something wrong with the victims. Wrong eye color, wrong tone of voice or even their pet names they sometimes used for him.

Is he missing something? Someone? Longing for the embrace of a specific person that is unknown to him.

He always blamed his vampirism for this feeling. Thinking that’s just how it is. The feeling of wrongness and emptiness residing in him for the 200 years of his unlife.

Until the Mind Flayers and Nautiloid.

But back to Tav:

After a hundred years of grief, Tav finally started to get better. Diving into learning the profession/class they have chosen. Trying to enjoy life as much as they could, but the emptiness never fully disappeared. As if part of their soul was still gone.

They even tried to date, pressured by their family to at least try, but when their new partner tried to kiss them… they just couldn’t do it, dull pain spreading through their body and guilt flooding their mind. They immediately break up with the person and decide never to find a partner again.

But apart from that, they were relatively happy. Another 100 years slowly drifting away, the memories of Astarion remaining, if a little faded.

Until the Mind Flayers and Nautiloid.

Game plot:

Tav was walking with Shadowheart and Gale when they heard someone call for help.

Of course, they immediately headed for the voice, trying to help all the survivors of the crashed ship.

But when they finally came to the person they heard, the blood ran cold in their veins, the weapon they held falling from their grasp. It was like seeing him for the first time in their life but at the same time not… Astarion.

They notice that he looks different. His eyes are the wrong color and he’s so pale… but it’s him. They know it is because their soul sang when their eyes locked… but how?

“Hurry, I’ve got one of those bran things…” Astarion's voice trailed off as he fixed his eyes on Tav and gasped as an unfamiliar sensation filled his body. It was as if everything finally clicked and his mind was flooded with memories he didn't know he had.

That's how far I've come with this idea. I'm not sure how it would have gone on, but I imagine it would have taken a while for Tav and Astarion to become partners again. Both mourning the years they could have spent together if it weren't for Cazador. Tav learning to love the new Astarion he has become, because he was different from the elf they knew before and Astarion learning to love again overall.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x elf!tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #headcannons #astarion fanfic idea #fanfic idea #astarion headcanons #astarion x gn tav #astarion x gn reader #elf tav #Spotify

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feyflorist · 8 months

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average Astarion interaction

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brabblesblog · 6 months

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I hope you die screaming.

One-shot, angst/comfort, astarion/f!tav

After you refuse to help Astarion ascend, he leaves you with a venomous goodbye. Unfortunately the vampire has to come back to get his things.

The idea was to mix up the warding bond rings, Astarion’s final words if you refuse to help him, and Tav suffering and dying (not permanently!) in his absence.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

It had been a miserable few days of being alone in Baldur’s Gate, without most of his possessions, but Astarion was loathe to go back to the Elfsong. For one, he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d be there to do. To grab his things and go? A possibility, but not what he would rather do. To get on his knees and ask you to take him back? What he really wanted to do, but the chance of you forgiving him was slim, and he couldn’t face that rejection. So he stayed near the tavern, torn between showing himself and walking away yet again, when the ring on his finger pulsed with a strange magic and the ward protecting him dissipated from his body.

He had known you were still protecting him through the paired rings even as he stormed out of Cazador’s palace. The soft, pleasant feeling of the ward had not disappeared at all, and it had proven quite useful once or twice when he inadvertently offended someone enough for them to attempt to stab him. He didn’t get a lot of injuries - only minor cuts and scrapes - so as much as he felt guilty he figured you would be more than capable of handling it. In any case, should you want, you could just take off the rings, he reasoned.

So when the ward fell away right now, he huffed a bit and took the ring off. You must’ve finally remembered he had the other one, and there was no longer any point protecting him, after everything.

After what he said.

He entered the tavern and sat in a corner, waiting for your group to come back. He’d decided to come get his things. Without the ward’s protection, he would need his potions and armor to survive solo.

Soon enough, the door burst open and Gale came stumbling in. The gore and blood on his robes was normal enough, but his expression wasn’t. The man looked ashen and pale, and he immediately ran to the stairs. “Shadowheart! Come here. Now!”

Before the vampire could even put down the goblet he was holding, Halsin came in, something bundled in his arms. The air that wafted through hit Astarion, and he almost choked on it: blood. Your blood. A lot of it. He watched with wide eyes as Halsin carried the bloody bundle in his arms. It was a body, that much was obvious, but they had wrapped it in blankets. The fabric was stained everywhere, but it pooled the most where the chest would be. Halsin dipped his head and gently placed a kiss on the head of the body, and as he did so the blanket covering the face fell away. Astarion’s heart, if he still had one, would have stopped as he saw the face underneath the blankets. Yours.

He immediately stood up, heading towards Halsin. The larger elf saw him and let him approach, his expression one of sorrow.

“Halsin? What- is she…” he closes the distance. Your eyes are closed, as if you were sleeping. He knows it, knows he can’t hear your heartbeat and can’t see you breathe, but he still reaches out to cup your cheek. Cold, as cold as his hands were. He chokes back a scream that threatens to bubble from his throat.

Halsin moves, slowly climbing the stairs. “Come, Astarion. I shall explain.” As he made his way to your bed, he talked. “She hasn’t been well since your departure, but that is to be expected. We had a fight with the Steel Watch. She was a little too slow, too tired, and they won.”

Astarion growls. “You should all have protected her! Did you all cower when-“

“No.” Halsin rounds on him, eyes glinting with what was almost like anger. “We all have our injuries. We all tried our best. We weren’t the ones who left her.”

He laid you down on your bed, grabbing a wet cloth to clean your wounds. Astarion gripped the elf’s wrist. “Why aren’t you using a scroll to revive her?!”

He sighed. “You might not remember, Astarion, but the scrolls were all in your bag when you left.”

Shit. He had forgotten. He quickly rummaged through it, finding one. He saw Shadowheart approach and asked her for some healing potions as well. While everyone was preparing, Halsin kept cleaning your body up. Astarion scowled and grabbed his own wet towel, gently trying to clean around the hole in your chest. He winced at the amount of blood he saw as he tried to peel off the bloody shirt, then paused as he realized it was his camp shirt. Biting back the urge to scream, he kept working.

Shadowheart came back with several bottles of the potion, and they got to work. Halsin used the scroll, and as he did the vampire began pouring the potions down your throat. It didn’t take long for him to hear your heart start to beat again, and he exhaled roughly as he poured more bottles, just to be sure. He watched the color flood back into your face as you healed, unable to stop some tears from falling.

A hand gripped his shoulder and he turned to see Gale. The wizard sighed. “I’m surprised to see you here,” he said dryly. “Seems like you got your wish,” he said bitterly, gesturing to you.

Astarion bared his fangs and got up, ready to tear him from limb to limb. Halsin barely had enough time to stand between the two men. “There is no point to fighting each other. What’s done is done. And she’s doing better now.”

Gale sighed. He nodded at Halsin, then at Astarion. “I suppose the druid is right. You’ll still have some explaining to do, but it can wait.” He leaves to see Shadowheart to tend to his own injuries. After a moment, so does Halsin, squeezing Astarion’s hand in solidarity as he left.

Astarion continues his ministrations, weeping openly now that no one was here. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead. When you were clean, he puts you in your nightclothes, then wraps you up in his blankets. It doesn’t escape his notice that you’ve moved into his bed, his things still there, as though you were waiting for his return. He sleeps there that night, wraps himself around you, the sound of your soft breathing something he sorely missed.

You wake up a few hours later. Your head pounds, but when you open your eyes, it is blessedly dark. The last thing you remember was a steel watch monstrosity’s blade coming straight through you. You take a breath, nuzzling the blankets. They still smell like him, and you worry that soon the smell will fade. Then there would be nothing left of the man you loved. Well, other than his clothes-

Wait. His clothes. You run a hand down your chest, wincing at the movement. You realize you’re in your own camp clothes. It must’ve been torn in the fight, ruined by the gore. A soft cry escapes your lips. It felt all too much like losing him again. You whimper, helpless. Every movement was pain, but the most painful thing even now was your heart.

You suddenly realize you’re not alone on the bed. An arm sweeps across, wrapping securely around your waist. Someone nuzzles you, shushing your cries. In the darkness you can barely see, but the scent and the temperature of said arm hits you.

“As-Astarion?”

He swallows nervously. “Darling. I… I’m here.” He can see your face in the dark, eyes wide and afraid, and then a glimmer of hope as you realize who he is.

“You came back,” you manage to croak out. Your hand finds his, and he squeezes it tightly.

“I did. I-“ the happiness in your face stuns him. You should hate him. He doesn’t deserve to be welcomed back with such open arms.

“I was in the Elfsong to gather my things.” Before you could get the wrong idea and get hurt, he pushes on. “But I think I knew even as I walked in I’d be here to beg you to let me stay.”

“There’s no need to even ask, love.” Your hand moves to his hand, feeling for the ring. It isn’t there, and you feel a small pang of sadness. “You took it off.”

“Only today,” he says. “The wards fell. I thought you got rid of it, but your ring is still on your finger. I guess it just stopped working when you-“ he swallows past the lump in his thoat. “You- you know.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Noticing his distress, you move your other hand to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry you had to see this. I got clumsy. I was… I wasn’t at my best.” You look away, embarrassed to admit how much you missed him.

“Darling. No,” he turns your cheek to meet his gaze. “I left you. I broke your heart. All because I was too afraid to see the right path to take. And I wished… I said terrible things. I would take it back, all of it back. I regretted it as soon as I left the dungeons. But I didn’t think you’d let me back in. If I stayed, maybe you’d be alright. You’d be-“

His words are broken by soft lips that press against his. It was tender, and he couldn’t help but lean into it, kissing back carefully and gently. More tears fell from him, and you thumbed them away. Pulling back, you offer him a kind smile. “I forgave you as you left, love. I get it. It’s just that I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too.” With those words Astarion finally breaks down, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He didn’t deserve such tenderness, such love, after what he did. He vowed to do better with your heart, to give what you deserve as well. Not for any other reason than that he wanted to.

He meets your eyes, and he finally lets the words that had been sitting in his chest for ages out. “I love you. I have loved you for a while, darling, I just didn’t know how. I’m not good at this, obviously. I choose the wrong words, do the wrong things, and you still let me back in.”

You chuckle a bit, hands carding through his hair. “That’s because I love you too, idiot.”

You’ve told him that for some time now, accepting that he couldn’t say the same yet. But every time you say it his heart still soars. He captures your lips in yet another kiss.

“Forgive me?”

“Of course. You’ll have to put your ring back on, though. Maybe when I’m more healed, on second thought.”

You bite your lip, frowning.

“Oh. And I might have ruined your camp shirt. Could you fix it for me? Please?”

He puts on a show of pouting and sighing. “If I must. What would you do without me, hm?”

You roll your eyes and tug him close to you. All too quickly, you drift off, finally having a good night’s rest. He watches your face become peaceful, noting the huge bags under your eyes.

Astarion holds you through the night, vowing to never leave your side ever again.

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swansong-art · 2 months

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between work kicking my ass I scribbled something so I can live vicariously through Kelyn

#art #doodle #Astarion #astarion x tav #Kelyn #elf #drow #fluff him like a sheep

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 4 months

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Crawl Home To Her

Ship: Astarion x fem!Tav/reader

Summary: As awful the feeling of blood on the skin is, sometimes it can be helpful, you have to admit. At least, when it comes to Astarion, blood is always helpful. You'll have to take his word for it—and that's oh so easy bathing with him.

Word Count: 5,461 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+) blood, gore, nudity, sexual & non-sexual touching, bathing each other, soft Astarion, established relationship, brief mention of past sexual encounter, dealing with past trauma, teasing from Karlach, mention of dismemberment, fluff & smut mix

18+ Warnings: brief fingering (f receiving), tiny bit of a hair kink, sensual touching, semi-public sex/nudity

Note: Part 2 of Burns Like Rum is coming soon! But here's a little something to tithe you over until the sequel (Sweet Like Rum) is ready!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Shafts of pale sunlight fell on your face as you walked through the forest, your arms swinging at your sides, small critters running amok in the bushes around you. Birdsong filled your ears, pleasantly light and summery, reminding you distantly of a childhood memory you couldn't quite reach. The weather was warm enough that you were thinking you might have to change into something lighter. The few weapons you had on you were already starting to make you break out into a sweat.

For a day that had started with murder, the weather was surprisingly nice.

You hummed as you walked—the song pulled from your childhood, the words long forgotten but pieces of the melody clunking around in your head. You strung them together the best you could, tapping out a rhythm against your leg.

You were on your way to the waterfall you'd spotted several days ago while hunting. It was small and nothing too violent. The pool it fell into wasn't deep enough to drown you, nor was the flow of water all that fast. You trusted it—and the rock ledge behind it—would suit your purposes quite nicely.

Coming upon the pool was like stepping into one of the fairytales you had heard in your youth, sitting upon your father's knee in a tavern, listening to a traveller tell a story you weren't sure was entirely true.

It was guarded by willow trees with branches that swayed in a breeze you hadn't felt until you came upon them. Pushing the curtain of branches away revealed an almost perfectly circular clearing, the ground covered in vibrant green moss that squished delightfully beneath your feet and sprung back up when you stepped off of it. Patches of flowers sprouted all around, pink and yellow and purple blooms that grew up to the sun. The pool was as blue as the sky above, clear and shallow, surrounded by a few feet of soft white sand. The water shimmered in the sunlight, rippling over the pebbles that covered its floor. From the pool, the water flowed into a thin river that could hardly be called a river and out into the woods.

You sat by the pool's edge and pulled off your boots. They were just as bloody as the rest of you, the sticky and quickly drying substance staining the black leather. You splashed water over them and scrubbed with a cloth you had designated for this purpose that had once been grey.

Only after your boots were clean did you stand back up and step into the soft sand. You wiggled your toes, smiling at the feeling. You breathed in the crisp, sweet air. It smelled faintly of flowers and citrus, a scent that was familiar, though you couldn't place it.

You stripped slowly, hissing and wincing as you tugged at the places where blood had stuck the fabric to your skin. It acted like glue when dry, staining your skin and leaving a mottled pattern across your flesh. The fabric of your shirt had grown stiff with semi-dried blood.

One by one, you pulled off belts and straps holding weapons, the gloves you protected your hands with, your shirt, your trousers—until you were standing naked at the pool's edge. You gave yourself a cursory inspection, searching for any wounds you had acquired in the fighting this morning that you hadn't noticed; it wouldn't be the first time you'd walked away from a fight and realized you were injured only hours later. But, this time, there was nothing.

Usually it was Astarion who noticed you were injured, catching your smell in the air when it shouldn't have been. But you were drenched in so much blood already that you imagined it would have been very hard to pick out your distinct scent.

You waded into the pool, taking your clothes with you, and sat at it's deepest point. Standing, it reached your knees; sitting, it almost came to your shoulders. You scrubbed the blood from your clothes, using the soap you had brought with you.

You watched the blood and soap swirl together in the water and flow toward the river, a thin stream of red and bubbles slipping away from the crimson cloud surrounding you. You almost felt bad to ruin the clarity of the water, but the others—back at camp—were taking far too long to wash the blood from themselves with your limited store of water. This was better, in the long run.

Astarion would have a field day with this if this wasn't goblin blood, you thought to yourself, staring at the blood drifting just below the surface. He would drink it, from time to time, but never happily.

You scrubbed at your clothes until your fingers were stiff and sore and the blood was no longer coming out of the fabric. You inspected them and deemed them clean enough to put back on the moss, spread out so they would dry faster.

To clean yourself, you headed toward the waterfall. You climbed up onto the stone ledge behind it, reveling in the surprisingly gentle spray of water that reached you and the stillness of the water that it fell into, high enough to reach your knees.

You stepped under the water. It cascaded over you, dousing you in its coolness that reminded you of the first time Astarion had ever touched you—

—gentle hands, cascading down your sides—fingers lifting your chin so you would meet his gaze—a kiss to your forehead—a hand on the small of your back—his lips on your own, warmer than you had anticipated—his fingers in your hair, keeping your head off the ground—his hand slipping between your legs—his little giggle when you shuddered beneath him—the pleasured sigh from his lips as he slid inside of you—

Stepping out from underneath the water, you shook your head, banishing the memory. You had spoken recently about all of this. He'd told you, "I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex." He'd said, "I don't want to be just a body for you, darling." And though he'd teased you that you were more than welcome to "sustain yourself" (his words) with your memories of him while he took time away from intimacy, some part of you still felt like you violating his wishes any time it was his body that you thought of, rather than of, well, just him.

You wiped the water from your eyes and knew your tears had mixed in with it; Astarion had been very vulnerable with you, so you knew his reasons for it all. You had two responses: either unbearable sorrow that he had been forced to endure it all (which the current cause of the crushing weight in your chest), or blinding rage that birthed the desire to see Cazador's head on a spear.

You carded your hands through your wet hair, trying to work out the tangles. Your fingers came away covered in watery blood.

"Mind if I join you?"

You jumped, eyes flying open, and looked up. Leaning against the stone wall was the vampire himself, a gentle smile on his face. Gods, how you loved that smile. In this light, you couldn't tell his eyes were red and his fangs were hidden. If you didn't pay attention to how pale he was, you could imagine he was just an elf again—the life he deserved.

Astarion still wore his clothes, which were slowly darkening as they soaked up the spray of water and splattered with as much blood as his handsome face, but his boots were placed neatly next to yours on the moss. He'd cleaned them already; how had you not heard him before?

While he waited for your answer, aware of your admiring gaze on him, he pulled his shirt off over his head, mussing the curls you loved so much. He stripped quickly, nearly falling over when his trouser leg caught on his foot, and left his clothes in a pile on the rock ledge. Perhaps you were imagining things, but his skin looked paler than it had this morning, when you'd been rudely awoken by a horde of goblins invading your camp.

You held your arms open to him. "I'd like that very much."

He stepped into your arms, wrapped his own around your waist, and buried his head in your neck, breathing in deeply. "My love," he whispered, his lips against your skin. He kissed your neck softly and pulled away, cupping your face in his hand, to look into your eyes. "Are you alright?"

You nodded. "I'm okay."

"No injuries this time?" Astarion's eyes slid down your naked body, examining, his gaze concerned when it had once been sensual. You felt yourself relax in his arms, at ease with his concern. It felt real, honest in a way you hadn't had a chance to be yet. It was natural, somehow, to be checking each other for injuries in the time you finally caught together, away from the others.

"Not this time," you said, leaning into him. More watery blood dripped from your hair and across his chest, leaving streaks that made it look like he'd just returned from a rather messy feeding.

He kissed the top of your wet head. "Good." He leaned away to smile at you. "I was worried you'd run off to take care of your injuries by yourself, if only to keep me from smelling the blood."

You shook your head. "If only we'd been attacked by something you could drink from, satisfy your hunger for a few days." He smiled weakly and you knew the thought had been on his mind, too. "What about you? Are you okay?"

He spread his arms and did a little twirl for you. You giggled at his antics, glancing over his skin, pleased he was comfortable enough to even be naked with you. "Yes, darling. Not a scratch on me."

The two of you looked at each other, your hair already damp and clinging to your head, and his curls slowly being matted down by the thick mist of the waterfall. His ears poked out, more noticeable than normal.

Astarion bent and picked up your bar of soap. "May I help you wash off all this grime?"

"Please," you said, your voice soft but as loving as you could make it, your eyes fixed firmly on his.

He lathered his hands with soap and scrubbed gently at your skin. His nails, kept trimmed and neat, were hardly more than a light sensation as he worked at the dried blood until it crumbled away from your skin and ran down your body in red rivulets. His touch was soft, caring where it had once been lustful and groping. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his fingers digging into your tired muscles, and held him. You adjusted your hold on him as he moved across your body—an arm draped across his shoulders, a hand on his bicep, your fingers against his chest, your head on his shoulder.

You looked up at Astarion, blinking quickly to keep the water out of your eyes. His gaze remained fixated on your hips as he gently washed off the blood, but he smiled, aware of your stare.

"See something you like?" he asked, tone playful.

"Someone I love," you corrected. He looked up at you, a tender smile growing on his lips. "Someone I love dearly." You leaned close, cupped one side of his face, and kissed the other. "I love you, Astarion."

He kissed your cheek, too. "And I love you." His lips found yours. He kissed you with a sweetness that simultaneously broke your heart and mended it. You wrapped your arms around his waist. He hummed happily into your mouth and cradled the back of your neck.

The pair of you fell into a tight embrace. You felt the adrenaline drain from you and leave you limp in his arms, your hot skin going cold under the water. Despite how suddenly you must have slumped against him, Astarion held you with ease. He gave the crown of your head a quick kiss, then made an unpleasant sound of surprise from the back of his throat.

"Darling, do you mind if I wash your hair? There's an awful lot of goblin blood in it."

You forced yourself to stand up straight on your own, still holding his sides for support. "Oh, yes—that would be from Karlach throwing one she'd just chopped into over my head." Even as you said the words, you felt the blood splattering into your hair again and shuddered.

Astarion grimaced. "Let me help you with it, then." He lathered his hands and put them in your hair. As he fell into a rhythm, you closed your eyes and let him doing the work, your thoughts drifting...

At first, you weren't sure why you had even woken in the first place. The light coming in through a crack in the tent's opening was still the watery and grey color of pre-dawn, much earlier than you usually woke. You frowned and pushed back into Astarion, his arm squeezing you tighter, sleep once again tugging at your eyelids.

And then you heard a shout, vicious and loud. It was close to camp, maybe even in camp. The shout came again and you realized it was Lae'zel's war cry.

All at once, the sounds of a battle filled your ears. You jerked awake in an instant, clambering onto your knees and shaking Astarion awake next to you. Of course the one day Astarion decided to indulge in the very human activity of sleep was the day you and your friends were attacked.

"What's going on?" he mumbled as his eyes flickered open, his words slurred together.

"Come on, grab your knives," you said, pulling your lightest set of armor on over your clothes. You were suddenly very relieved Astarion had decided skin to skin contact was a bit too much for him last night. "I think we're under attack."

He woke just as quickly as you had. He swore, dragged a quick hand through his hair, and grabbed his knives. He waited until you had your own weapon in hand before he opened the curtain flap of his tent.

The camp was a sight to behold. Already it was trashed and overflowing with goblins. Some were already on the ground, their blood oozing everywhere in the dirt and grass. Gashes from Lae'zel's sword seeped blood and gristle, if she hadn't horribly disfigured the corpses and turned them into little more than lumps of flesh. Many of them bore scorch marks that ranged from minor burns to melting flesh. It smelled horrendous and nearly acidic; you bit back the bile in your throat.

A dismembered arm fell at your foot. You kicked it away on instinct, looking up to see Karlach ripping a second goblin limb from limb.

"Now that's just vile," Astarion said, still looking at the arm, a fang poking out over his curled lip.

"Complain about it later," you said, grabbing his chin and giving him a quick and customary 'good morning' kiss. "We've got to help the others."

"If you insist."

Astarion ran to Karlach's side; you headed for Shadowheart and Gale. Wyll was approaching, too, cutting a path through the goblins.

"Morning, you two!" you said cheerily. "How'd this happen?"

"We're not sure," Shadowheart said, kicking a goblin in the face as it ran at her with a scream. "Lae'zel said they came from the north, just over those hills."

"Odd. I wonder if we camped too close to them for their liking, and now they're trying to do something about it. Are goblins territorial creatures?"

Gale grunted, casting another fireball. "Enough chatting. Let's just kill these things and figure out where they came from and why later. Got it?"

"Fair enough," you decided. "Whoever kills the most chooses dinner for a week."

"I'll take you up on that," Wyll said from behind you. "I'm dreaming of a good meal for once."

Astarion's hands sliding out of your hair abruptly brought you back to reality, to his body pressed against yours and the waterfall at your back, shielding the two of you from the world.

"Where'd you go?" he asked, voice soft. You could feel his fingers toying with the ends of your hair, curling it on his fingers.

"Back to the fight," you admitted. "I just keep wondering how they snuck up on us."

"No matter now," he said. "We'll let Lae'zel criticize us all for not anticipating every possible disaster when we get back, but not yet. Not here."

He went back to massaging your scalp, despite the blood being long gone, and your sighed happily. He smiled and kissed your forehead, adding pressure. A content whimper slipped from your lips and you blushed instantly as his eyes lit up; he'd heard far more obscene from you, yet still the slightest sounds you made embarrassed you and delighted him.

"My, my, the noises you make for me, lover," he teased, giggling. He wrapped his hand in your hair and tugged, hard enough to draw a loud moan out of your chest.

Astarion covered your mouth with his hand, his eyes playfully wide. "Shhh, unless you want the others to come looking. We're not that far away from camp."

Heat rushed through your body. "Oh, gods, Astarion, I'm— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to— And I certainly didn't expect it to be that...that loud—! I..."

He swallowed your frantic apologies with a kiss. Against your lips, he whispered, "If you can keep quiet, though...I can grant you all the pleasure you want. You need only ask, darling."

Your heart skipped several beats in your chest. You put your hand up to his face. "Oh, I don't... Star, I don't need you to, I wouldn't want you to...feel obligated." He pulled his forehead away from yours to see your face. "We agreed not to do anything until you're ready. And that wasn't that long ago, so... I don't want you to be uncomfortable—"

Astarion cupped your chin with his hand, dragging his thumb across your lower lip. The words died in your throat. He met your gaze, his crimson eyes open and honest, and said, "Your pleasure is a gift. Even if I don't want to be touched yet, that's not stopping me from touching you. Only you can stop me from touching you."

"Star..."

He pulled you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around him, suddenly too aware of the raised scar you felt against your arms. "I trust you. Wholeheartedly. I trust you to...to respect my boundaries. To check in with me. To see when I'm uncomfortable. You've already done it, again and again, and proved that you're worthy of that trust. And do I look uncomfortable now?"

You studied him. His pupils were blown. His eyes told a story of contentment. The tenseness you had once noticed laying deep and dormant in his muscles was gone. He looked at you with a fondness you realized now was a profound trust and he stood utterly relaxed in your arms.

So you answered him honestly. "No."

"Exactly, darling. I'm not uncomfortable. I want to do this for you, if that's what you also want. I feel...safe with you. I've never felt like this around anyone before," he admitted, a bit of sadness creeping onto his face, "and I don't want to ruin it. I don't know... I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm going to try to do right by you. So if you want me..." He placed his hand low on your abdomen. Your stomach did flips. He put his lips against the shell of your ear. "Tell me, darling, because I certainly want you. All I ask is that you not touch me, not just yet."

You whimpered. "Please, Star. I promise not to touch you, I promise. But please touch me."

"That's my girl," he whispered. "Spread your legs for me, no need to be so nervous."

You readjusted your stance, widening the space between your previously clenched thighs. His hand filled the gap, cupping you gently. You sighed, leaning your head against his chest again, looking down to watch his ministrations.

Astarion pressed his palm to your clit. You watched his wrist move as he slid his fingers along your slit, teasing you and never quite touching you where you needed him. You whimpered as his fingertip lightly ghosted your entrance, just barely dipping inside before he moved his hand back up, his fingers toying with your clit.

"That's it," he whispered in your ear. "Make those quiet, pretty sounds for me. Show me how you feel."

You rocked your hips against his hand. "Astarion, please..."

He kissed your temple. "Feeling good?"

Your broken moan was your answer. He chuckled, sliding his hand up your side, taking your breast in the palm of his hand. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you gasp and buck your hips against him. He closed his lips around it and sucked gently.

"More," you whispered. "Please. I need...I need you."

"Alright, darling, alright," he said against your skin. He rubbed your entrance for another moment, then slid his finger inside you. You clenched down on him as you sighed your pleasure. He curled his finger inside you, rubbing away at your walls, and you gasped loudly.

Astarion grinned. "Make those noises. Moan for me. I want you to show me how good this feels, show me you want me." You gripped tightly onto him, one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his hip. Your breaths grew heavy and your whimpers louder. "Yes, that's it! Be loud for me, my sweet, the loudest you've ever—"

A branch cracked in the forest. A voice called out your name, then Astarion's. You jumped a mile and Astarion's finger slipped out of you. You stared at each other with wide eyes.

"D...did you hear that?" you asked. "Or am I hearing things?"

As if an answer, the voice—Gale's—shouted again, "I know you're over here, I can see your boots!"

"Shit," Astarion sighed. He craned his head to peer around the curtain of water. "What the hells do you want?"

"Is she with you?" Gale asked. "Shadowheart sent me to find you both, the rest of us have all finished washing up! There's water left for you."

"That's what we're trying to do, Gale!" you called, reaching an arm through the waterfall and waving at him. "Use the water for something else, we'll make do here."

He harrumphed. "If I had known this was just a few minutes away from camp, I would have come to wash up here ages ago."

You and Astarion exchanged a look. So much for a secret getaway spot.

"Be back soon, or Karlach will start worrying," Gale said, in the tone of a chiding parent. "And no funny business!"

"Oh, shut up!" Astarion shouted, the tips of his ears turning a deep pink. He ducked behind the water again and holding you close. You barely held back your giggles while the two of you listened for Gale to walk away. One slipped out and Astarion hurriedly covered your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm and he pulled it away quickly. "You weirdo!"

You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into his chest. "Yes, but I'm your weirdo. You love me anyway."

Astarion pushed a strand of your wet hair behind your ear. "I love you anyway," he admitted, with a fondness that turned you into mush in his arms. He held you close for several moments, then asked, "Do you want me to continue?"

You thought about it, then shook your head. "Not just now. I suspect Karlach will be on her way to investigate the waterfall I didn't have the decency tell anyone about very soon."

"Very well," he said. "I'll finish you off later in my tent, then. As long as you can keep quiet for me, darling." He gave you that charming smile that made your stomach do flips.

"I thought you liked me loud," you teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, playful and flirtation in such a comfortable way that it warmed your heart more than any of his touches ever could, delightful as they were. "Only when I have you all to myself, lover." He nipped at your neck, his fangs scratching but not breaking your skin. "Your moans are mine."

You stood together like that for several more moments, his hands on your hips and your arms looped around his neck, your foreheads pressed together. You exchanged dainty kisses, basking in each other in the few minutes left you had alone.

At last, you planted one firm, lingering kiss to his lips. "Let me clean you off," you said. "Though you're going to have to crouch for me to get your hair." Most of the blood and grime had been washed away by the waterfall's spray, but his silver hair was still speckled with it all, and you could taste it on his lips—sour and gritty. No wonder he only drank from goblins as a last resort.

Astarion bent his head down, pressing his forehead into your shoulder and holding you by the waist. You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and smiling (but saying nothing) every time your touch managed to pull a soft whimper or moan from him without him realizing it.

You washed his body anyway, wiping away the remaining grime and massaging his muscles. You enjoyed the way he relaxed in your arms, quietly asking for more or less pressure.

"My back," he said, voice quiet and almost timid. "Can you...?"

"Are you sure?" you asked, frowning.

He nodded and turned in your arms, exposing his back to you. You started slowly, massaging his upper back and shoulders before working your way down, giving him plenty of time to tell you to stop if he needed to. But he leaned into your touch and responded with more of those gentle and timid—but happy—sounds.

You kissed the nape of his neck when you were finished, rested your head against his back, and wrapped your arms around his waist. His hands found yours and laced your fingers together.

"Thank you, my love," he said. "I've never... No one has ever done that for me before."

You hugged him tighter. "Any time you need me—I'm here. I will always be here." You stepped away and guided him out of the water with a hand. "Come on, we should head back."

The pair of you helped each other dress, though neither of you were wearing anything that required the help. You suspected Astarion just wanted to keep you close; when he got into his cuddly moods, it lasted for hours at a time. You would sleep wrapped up in your vampire's arms, safe and comfortable, tonight.

You were both pulling on your boots when Karlach found you.

"There you are!" she said. "Why didn't you tell us where you'd run off to?"

You shrugged. "I wanted the peace and quiet," you said honestly. "Besides, you all take forever to clean off."

Astarion snickered. "She's right about that."

Karlach sat on the moss, staring at the waterfall. "Well, you're right about one thing, soldier—this place is peaceful."

You hummed your agreement. "Yes. I'm glad we camped near it, or I never would have found it."

"How did you find this place?" she asked.

"Hunting," you said.

"Really? I assumed it must have been when you and Astarion sneak out so the rest of us can't hear you having sex." You choked on air and she laughed. "What? He found it easily!"

Astarion spluttered. "Because I could smell her!"

You sighed. "Karlach, we stopped sneaking off ages ago. We don't need to, we sleep in the same tent now. Rest assured, if anything is happening, it's happening silently and the rest of you are none the wiser to it."

"That doesn't make me rest assured."

You laughed. Astarion smiled at you, the kind of smile that made his eyes seem a little less dark and made you really remember that he was an elf.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm going back to camp," he said. "I'm sure there's much to discuss about these...impertinent creatures who keep attacking us." He kissed your cheek and whispered into your ear, "I'll see you tonight, darling. What we do is up to you."

Before he could leave, you reached over and held his cheek, kissing him firmly on the lips. He smiled into it.

"Lovebirds," Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes, "will you please get a room?"

"The next time we stop at an inn—yes," Astarion said, winked at you, then disappeared into the woods.

You gulped. "I pity whoever is in the room next to us."

Karlach snorted. "I pity you and your poor cervix!"

"Karlach!" You splashed her with water and she roared with laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Only slightly."

You huffed, scooped up your weapons, and started back to camp. Karlach followed.

"I mean, in all honesty, you two were so loud that first time we all heard you at camp, even though you snuck away. Kept us all awake, but you sounded like you were having a good time. So clearly he's doing something right, but can you take all of that every time? You were walking with a limp the next morning—"

"Okay, let's change the subject," you said loudly, heat racing through your body. Remembrance pulsed through you again, ghostly touches and reminders of just how easily Astarion made you scream.

She giggled. Gods, she was spending too much time with you and Astarion; he was rubbing off on her. "Oh, yes, because what would poor Gale say if he heard?"

You rolled your eyes. "It's not Gale I'm worried about, it's Astarion. If he hears you, he's going to become insufferable."

"Isn't he already?"

You whacked her with the flat end of your sheathed dagger. She laughed, putting her hands up in surrender.

The others were cleaning up camp when you arrived, scrubbing blood from tents and carpets and hauling away corpses and severed limbs.

Gale waved when he saw you, then jerked his thumb toward Astarion. "Didn't he just wash?"

You looked over at your vampire, only to find him feeding on a goblin. He looked up at you and grinned sheepishly, a trickle of blood sliding out of his mouth and down his neck.

"I just washed him, actually," you said dryly. "Astarion, you aren't that messy of an eater. What on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, so now you deign to eat the goblins," Karlach scoffed.

He shrugged. "What? I'm hungry!"

You spluttered. "You could have just asked me!"

Astarion wiped his mouth with a feral grin. "Well, I'll keep that in mind later, darling." He winked at you and then blew you a quick kiss. He shoved the carcass into the woods and went into his tent, closing the flap behind him.

Gale sighed heavily before looking back at you. "That one. Are you sure you want to choose that one?"

"Yes, Gale, I want that one."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

~❊~

Night fell. One by one, the others retired to their tents. Only Karlach and Gale remained awake when you left the fire and slipped into Astarion's tent.

He was laying on his side, reading and drinking blood, the picture of leisure. He closed his book immediately when you laid beside him and pulled you flush against his body.

"There you are," he said, snuggling into your shoulder. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming."

You reached up and dragged your fingers through his perfect curls. "You don't have to wonder about that ever, Star. As long as I live, I'll be coming home to you. Even if I have to crawl."

"Gods, I love you," he said, wrapping himself around you. You kissed the top of his head.

"I love you, too," you whispered. He sighed happily and cuddled into you, sliding one of his legs between your own and settling there. A few minutes later, you felt the pressure of his knee against your clothed crotch. "What are you doing, mister?"

He grinned at you, showing both fangs. "Finishing what I started," he said cheekily. He began undoing the lacing at the front of your pants. "Now, just lay still for me, dear. And please do your best to keep quiet—I'd hate to have to cover that pretty mouth with my hand. Again."

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel @cheeslyy @ofmyth-andmagicart @neetheslayer @whispering-depths @freesidexjunkie @lightsinmycity @the0ldmann @gobbodoggo @oooof-ifellforyou @beeblisss @fangboner @aquaarietes @fiercest-eigengrau-skies @niqhtfell @call-me-nyxx @lueji-m @ceres-xiv @tricksy-trinity @graynstairs @rosa-rubus @ynisthatyou

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redraccoonart · 13 days

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A commission piece featuring Astarion and Dark Urge Tav!

As much as I struggle with dark night moods, I loved painting this piece so much! 🥰🥰 Many thanks to my client who requested this lovely piece, they were such a nice person and was so happy with the result!

I’m currently opening Baldur’s Gate 3 commissions, feel free to DM me if you’re interested!

ÉDIT : Commission slots are all taken! Sorry for the inconvenience 😭 but I hope to reopen a new round in July. I’ll be posting the pricing info soon. Thank you so much again for reaching out to me and for your interest in my work friends! 💖

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mutualcombat · 29 days

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yeah he's definitely getting pegged in act 3

closeup details

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feyspeaker · 10 months

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"That's what you want, isn't it? to lose yourself in me?"

#my art #fanart #bg3 #baldurs gate fanart #dungeons and dragons #bg3 astarion #astarion #vampire #elf #d&d #dnd #blood #fangs #bg3 tav #tav x astarion

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yolebrat · 5 days

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Spine health ? Not in this house !

#illustration #baldurs gate 3 #doodle #digital art #rpg #astarion x tav #astarion #myart #yolebrat #gaming #painting #elf #my art #tiefling #necromancer #vampire #warlock

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pebsterino · 7 months

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Captions are a match of Older and Babydoll :)

I decided to torture myself with Astarion and Imani :')

#astarion #astarion x tav #Imani #high elf #dnd #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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drathe · 9 months

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Safe harbor

#my art #sketch #dungeons and dragons #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion romance #pirate #elf #vampire #dnd #male tav #finished commissions #i have a soft spot for them

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thedevilssinner · 3 months

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Sanguine Hearts

Pairing: Astarion x gn elf Tav (it was first written with a female tav in mind, so let me know if I accidentally forgot to rewrite it somewhere)

Warning: angst - but with somewhat happy ending?

Story is based on mix of THIS and THIS headcanon, set mainly before the BG3 plot and Tav and Astariona are thiramin - elven word for soulmates. It's from Tav's POV and mostly about how they try to deal with the loss of Astarion and their reaction when they meet someone who 'looks like him' after the Nautiloid.

I also gave Tav a last name but it's only used once and only for the purpose of the story. The last name is Ignotus = latin for unknown.

Hope you enjoy 🩷 and big thanks to @yeoldtrashcollector for helping me with this. I really apreciace it 🩷🙏

The Upper City's bustling streets overflowed with people. Some hurried to their workplaces, others diligently carried out their job duties, and a few of them were enjoying the splendor of a beautiful sunny day. Among these fortunate souls were two elven lovers who found a serene spot by a fountain. The man sat there, his eyes closed, face upturned to bask in the sun's warmth. His companion nestled beside him, leaning slightly against his shoulder. They watched with amusement as a cat, not far off, playfully attempted to catch a fluttering butterfly.

After a while, their gaze shifted to their partner, a mischievous grin crept across their face as they watched him bask in the sun. Their fingers dipped into the fountain's cool water, and with a playful flick, they sent a shimmering spray in the direction of the elf beside them. Startled, he jolted, the styled curls bouncing around his face as he turned his head towards the other person, an unamused expression on his face.

Then he suddenly attacks, as a cat, reaching out to catch his companion, his intention evident. Yet, the other elf evaded his grasp, leaping away from the fountain, their laughter carrying through the place.

The silver-haired elf shook his head in disbelief but promptly gave chase, the sound of their shared mirth echoing through the city streets. He finally closed the gap between them and encircled their waist with his arms. Turning them to face him, he whispered with a triumphant smile, "I've got you."

Their laughter persisted, though they attempted to free themselves from his embrace, their efforts proving futile. "You do," they gave up at the end, sighing.

A mock sternness colored his features as he mused, "I should have you arrested for disrespecting the Magistrate."

The elven lover responded swiftly, their confidence unwavering. "You wouldn't do that."

Arching an eyebrow, he inquired, "And why do you think I wouldn't do that?"

“Because you love me too much for that." They replied immediately.

The white-haired elf sighed, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Even though I don't understand why, with how much you tease me all the time… yes, I do love you."

"I love you too, my lovely magistrate." they murmured softly, wrapping their arms around his neck.

Astarion couldn't help but reciprocate their affectionate gesture, pulling them closer. The world around them faded into a distant hum as they exchanged a tender gaze. The streets of the Upper City, the bustling crowd, and even the relentless sun all seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in a world of their own.

His lips curved into a gentle smile, as he whispered, "My darling Tav, you’re making me love you more and more every day."

Tav's eyes sparkled with an undeniable love as they leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Their embrace spoke of shared laughter, stolen moments, and the profound bond that had brought them together in this vibrant city.

Moments later, they pulled away from the kiss, their foreheads touching, their breaths in harmony. Astarion spoke softly, "We should probably end this soon. The council meeting is approaching, and the magistrate should not be late."

Tav nodded, their expression a mix of reluctance and understanding. "You're right," they conceded. "But let's savor this moment a little longer."

They remained locked in their embrace, cherishing the warm, sunny day, the love that bound them, and the enchanting beauty of the Upper City. Their laughter and love echoed through the city, a reminder that even the Magistrates could find solace in the arms of love.

A few months had passed since that idyllic moment by the fountain when Tav was awakened by an insistent knock on their door. They groggily crawled out of bed, hastily donning a soft robe, and shuffled toward the door. Upon opening it, they were met with the sight of a city guard who visibly stiffened upon seeing them.

"Are you Tav? Tav Ignotus?" he inquired, and Tav, still half-asleep, confirmed their identity.

"Yes, that's me. Is something wrong?" they asked, their sleep-induced haziness giving way to a sense of unease.

The guard pressed on with a heavy expression, "Are you in a relationship with Magistrate Ancunin?"

Their uneasiness rose. "Yes, I am. Please, what's going on?"

With a somber expression, the guard delivered the devastating news. "I'm very sorry, but Magistrate Ancunin is dead. You were listed in his records as someone to be informed if something happened to him."

Tav's world seemed to crumble at those words. The silence was heavy, broken only by the frantic pounding of their heart. Stumbling backward, Tav leaned against the doorframe to steady themselves, disbelief washing over them. The guard extended a hand to support them, but they could hardly process it. "No, this... This can't be true," the elf muttered, shaking their head in denial.

"I know it must be difficult to accept, but unfortunately, it's true. Our patrol found him this morning. I'm really sorry," the guard offered sympathetically.

Tav clung to him, desperation in their eyes. "What... What happened?" they managed to utter through a constricted throat.

The guard hesitated but then responded, "He... He was beaten to death."

"What? But... by whom? Who would do something like that?" they asked, though they already had a painful inkling. Astarion had his share of enemies – those who disagreed with his judgments and the families of those he had sentenced.

"We don't know, though we're trying to find out, I promise. I'm really sorry about what happened," the guard repeated, offering his condolences.

Tav's world was shrouded in silence once more as they tried to process the horrific news. They gazed at the guard with a desperate determination. "Can I see him? Can... Can I say goodbye?" they implored, voice trembling, the glimmer of hope that this was all a mistake still lingering deep within them.

The guard hesitated, reluctant to grant their request. "I'm not sure if it's the best idea. Magistrate Ancunin... he... It's not a pretty sight," he warned.

But Tav's grip on his arm tightened. "Even so... I... I need to see him. I need to know if it's really him. Please," the elf begged, a note of desperation in their voice.

Eventually the guard agreed, leading them to the place where Astarion's body was being held until the funeral arrangements were made. He unveiled only his face, the rest concealed beneath a sheet. Tav saw the battered features, the bloody lips and nose, dark bruises all over, and they couldn't bear to imagine the rest of his body.

Seeing Astarion's face shattered their last glimmer of hope. They recognized the pallor, the snow-white hair, and the familiar features, despite the injuries. It was him.

At that moment, Tav broke down completely, tears streaming down their cheeks, uncontrollable sobs wracking their body. The guard had to lead them away, offering words of consolation that they couldn't even hear. Tav felt apathetic, angry, and desolate, a whirlwind of emotions tearing them apart. They didn't want to bury Astarion; it was unthinkable. Their lovely little star… gone.

Back in their apartment, Tav's eyes landed on a painting of the two of them, created by a street artist. Their heart ached at the memory of their happier times. What were they supposed to do now? How could they possibly cope with this unbearable loss?

In search of some comfort, Tav discovered one of Astarion's discarded shirts he left in their home and crawled into bed, burying their face into it, to inhale his scent. It wasn't the same as having him beside them, but it offered a small measure of comfort in the midst of their overwhelming grief.

And then Tav cried again.

Tav existed in a state of numbness, unable to face the world outside. They hadn't mustered the strength to attend Astarion's funeral that was happening on the same day they discovered his death. They heard that an anonymous benefactor had taken care of the arrangements but despite that, they couldn't go. The thought of watching their beloved being lowered into the cold unforgiving ground was simply too much to bear.

Their days blended into nights, a mess of irregular sleep, missed meals, and a profound sense of loss. Astarion's shirt, which they clung to desperately, no longer carried his scent, but it was their last tangible connection to him.

Concerned friends, aware of their suffering, took turns visiting them. They offered condolences and support, attempting to coax the devastated elf into eating and taking care of themselves.

Tav barely noticed their presence. The weight of their grief keeping them locked in their own world.

When one well-meaning friend tried to gently pry Astarion’s shirt from their clenched hands, it led to a visceral reaction – screams and tears – as Tav withdrew further into their emotional cocoon. They were a mere echo of the vibrant person they once were, their soul yearning for Astarion's return.

It was getting out of hand, so Tav’s friends decided to contact their parents and it made their hearts ache to hear about their child's heartbreak. When they arrived at their home, the sight of Tav in their grief-stricken state shattered them. Tav’s father held them in a tight, protective embrace, cradling them like the little child they still were in his eyes. Their mother sat beside them, her gentle hand tracing comforting circles on Tav's trembling back.

And Tav cried once more, the tears flowing as they clung to their father, calling out for Astarion and pouring out their agony.

The parents recognized that their child could not remain in the city or in their current state of self-neglect. They faced the difficult decision of taking them back to their village, their childhood home. It was their hope that the familiarity and solace of their roots would help Tav find some semblance of peace. With heavy hearts, they began the process of gently coaxing them away from the city and toward the heaven of their village, a place where perhaps, in time, their shattered soul might start to mend.

The journey to their childhood village was long and somber one, with Tav still clinging to their parents, episodes of tears coming and going like unpredictable storms. The forested surroundings of the village welcomed them, the familiar sights and sounds enveloping their senses. The soothing embrace of nature that once surrounded them, combined with the echoes of their past, offered a glimmer of hope for solace. Their parents hoped that the serene village would help mend their child's shattered spirit.

But Tav felt disoriented.

They were now far removed from the bustling city and from the places that reminded them of Astarion. His loss continued to haunt them, an ever present pain that seemed impossible to bear. They left the village a long time ago to explore life beyond its borders, an adventure that had brought them into Astarion's life and led to their love.

Now, they were back, but he was gone, leaving them feeling utterly lost.

Grief is a peculiar thing for anyone and could change a person in many ways. Tav's mourning lasted over fifty years, not that long of a span for their kind who could live for centuries, although their prolonged sorrow still raised eyebrows.

But most also understood that their love for Astarion had been genuine and profound. Shared souls that were ripped apart by death.

In the beginning, their parents played an active role in ensuring Tav ate and took care of themselves until they regained some semblance of independence. They coaxed Tav to join them on walks through the woods and gently encouraged them to engage in household chores.

Slowly, Tav began to reintegrate into the life in the village. They offered their assistance to the village in any way they could, participating in tasks when they felt up to it. Yet, the sight of happy couples still caused a painful constriction in their heart. In time, however, they grew accustomed to it, and the raw grief evolved into a dull, enduring ache. They could now think of Astarion with a mix of fondness and sadness. Bittersweet mix that stays probably forever inside of them.

Tav believed that nothing could ever be similarly devastating as the loss of their beloved. But some 200 years passed and during an unexpected and fateful encounter, their existence took a perplexing turn.

Snatched from their life by a Mind Flayer's ship and a tadpole implanted into their brain wasn't something they expected. Their journey on the ship was fraught with danger and confusion. It was there that they met the fierce Githyanki warrior Lae'zel and then freed another named Shadowheart.

Together, they somehow managed to crash the ship, surviving who knows how.

Now, Tav stood on the shore, with Shadowheart by their side and the Githyanki nowhere in sight, the blazing sun bearing down on them and the burning wreckage of the Nautiloid smoldering in the background as they began to explore. It was then that a man's voice called out for help, drawing Tav's attention. Eager to assist other survivors, they approached, but what they encountered was beyond their wildest imagination.

There, before them, stood Astarion. Or at least, someone who appeared to be him. His eyes were crimson, and his complexion even paler than Tav remembered. Their emotions swirled into a turbulent mix of sadness and anger. How dare anyone impersonate Astarion after their beloved had been dead for two centuries? And do such a bad job!

Without hesitation, Tav lunged at the imitation, a fierce cry escaping their lips as they tackled him to the ground. They straddled his body, a dagger pressed to his throat. “How dare you?! How dare you take his form?! Show me who you really are... now!” Their command was laced with fury, even surprising themselves with their own actions. But Tav couldn't stop when someone was using Astarion's face for an unknown purpose. Shadowheart behind Tav was looking surprised and confused, trying to call for Tav to ask what the hell is happening but with no avail.

The shapeshifter under their form seemed taken aback but replied, “Darling, there seems to have been a little misunderstanding. I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’d appreciate it if you’d remove the dagger from my neck.” His voice is smooth and flirtatious and so unmistakably Astarion’s that it hurts, and Tav presses the dagger a little harder against his neck.

“Shut up, shapeshifter!” Tav snapped at him, their eyes locked on the face that was so familiar yet different. “Where did you even get his face? His voice?” Their grip on the dagger shook. “You have no right to pretend you're Astarion when he's... when he's gone. And to do it so poorly!” Beneath their anger, a deep-seated sadness could be heard.

The imposter's eyes widened, revealing fangs that sent a shiver down Tav's spine. The terrifying thought that he might not be a shapeshifter but something far worse began to take hold.

“Tav?” The fake Astarion finally spoke, voice filled with longing, as though he had just remembered something long-buried in his mind. His flirtatious tone had vanished, replaced by confusion. “You are them, aren't you? Gods, how could I forget... so beautiful.” His red eyes traced their face, and he lifted his arm tentatively toward them, fingers twitching with the yearning for touch but withholding.

Tav's resolve wavered as they listened to the shapeshifter. The voice, the face, everything about him screamed Astarion, and their heart ached. But they knew, or at least they thought they knew, that it couldn't be him. “No, stop! Stop it! You can't be him. You can't... he's dead, and your eyes are wrong. You're wrong!” Tav cried, their entire body trembling, dagger still dangerously close to his neck.

The shapeshifter easily took hold of Tav's wrist and moved their hand away from his neck. He wrenched the dagger from their fingers and discarded it, his lips forming a sad smile. “That's what vampirism does to you, my love,” he admitted softly, his voice heavy with pain and sadness.

And just as if the universe wanted to show them the truth, their tadpole stirred, connecting them to Astarion's. They could feel pain and see through his eyes a bloody hand, his hand, reaching up towards a dark figure, red glowing eyes looking down at them.

The figure kneeled down, revealing a man with dark hair and a cruel smile, fangs bared. Before they could comprehend what was happening, the man sank his teeth into their throat, and everything plunged into darkness.

“No... no…” Tav's voice quivered, tears welling in their eyes as the connection ended, throat tight with emotions. Their beloved was still somehow alive, transformed into a creature of the night. “Astarion…” They whispered his name with a shaky breath, their hands clutching his shirt as tears streamed down their cheeks. Their Astarion, their little star, was alive.

Astarion, too, seemed disoriented by the shared connection. “What in the hells was that?” he asked, confusion etched across his features. His hand reached up, finally touching them and wiping off the tears from their cheek, his touch cold, so devastatingly cold.

Tav struggled to compose themselves, wiping away the rest of the tears. “It's the Mind Flayer’s worm - it connects us which means that you… you were on the ship too.” they came to a revelation.

Astarion nodded, confirming their words. “That worm, of course. That explains things. Somewhat.” he said, sounding defeated.

Silence falling over them for a few seconds, until Shadowheart’s voice reached them. “Can someone finally explain to me what just happened?”

And that was the end of their meeting, at least for now. There were so many questions forming in both of their heads but no time to ask them. Not when there was still burning Nautiloid behind them and possible death creeping in their heads, so any conversation they wanted to have, they kept to themselves for now.

Meanwhile, Tav tried to explain everything to the best of their ability and comfort, to Shadowheart. Leaving huge chunks unsaid, because they'd only known each other for a few hours and the dark haired half-elf didn't seem like a very sharing person herself.

Still, both Tav and Astarion knew they would have to talk as soon as they had the chance. For 200 years they thought Astarion was dead, and Astarion had completely forgotten their existence... that definitely leaves plenty of topics to talk about, especially when you add in their new situation and the fact that Astarion is now a vampire.

So far, they had only exchanged a few glances from time to time as they continued to wander along unfamiliar paths, waiting, yearning and hoping. Hoping that this meeting would bring them at least something resembling the happiness they had felt all those centuries ago.

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