#neil newbon fanfiction

[somethingblu3]

Velvet Green | Simon Walker

Read on Ao3 Here.

18+ minors dni.

Masterlist

Fandom: Hollyoaks.

Summary:

Moving back to Ireland after Lynsey's death, you bump into Walker, who loves messing with you even right in front of your older brother, Brendan..

TW: Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, Cheating, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent , Incest, mention of religion.

Pairing: Simon Walker x Female Reader.

Word Count: 2,053 Words

"Come on, you can take it; I know you're no amateur", Walker smirks as he looks down at your lips, gagging around his cock.

It had been so long—almost a year since you last saw him—that your life had completely changed. You had to leave Hollyoaks if you wanted to survive; everyone seemed to end up dead there, and Lynsey was the last straw, so you packed up your backs and moved back to Ireland with your Sister Cheryl. For the most part, the move had gone smoothly until you bumped up to Walker in a bar. You had done a double take, not expecting to see him at all. At first, you thought you were dreaming or maybe spiked. Perhaps it was only until he grabbed you, pulling you into a firm kiss, that you realised he was real.

Walker shoves his hands onto your head, forcing you up and down on his cock. Part of you wants to slap the smirk off his face as he continues to thrust, increasing the tension with every pull of your hair. His cum dribbled down onto your chin as you pulled back with a 'pop' sound. He looked almost pleased as he wiped it away with his thumb from your chin. Forcing you up onto your knees, he then shoved you onto the bed. Stumbling back, you grabbed onto the headboard to brace yourself as Walker pulled down the rest of his jeans, exposing his dripping cock, still stained with your drool and saliva.

"God, how much I've missed this pussy”, Walker grins as he spreads you wide, already entering a finger inside you. Luckily, you are wet already, as always. Your underwear is practically drenched as he moves his fingers around it in your clit.

The moan you make is embarrassing, almost a whine. It had been so long since you had Walker inside you, even just a finger alone.

"You've been keeping yourself prepared for me, I bet? Like a good Catholic girl," He smirks.

At that comment, he now adds a second finger inside one that makes you shiver as he glides it up and down in your slick. You could come just like this, you think as you arch your back to give him access. As your hands grip the bed, they play with the light lavender fabric of your panties. You're determined to break them so you can at least feel the ghosting of his throbbing cock.

"Please…" You beg

You know he's not giving in yet.

"Come on, little one, I know you can take another. Don't you want to be good for Daddy?” He knows you've been waiting so long for this.

He grins, your eyes land on his tongue as Walker takes one finger out of your clit. How you long to have his mouth sucking against your pussy, but instead, he inspects his fingers dripping with your cum and shoves it into his mouth and swallows.

"Fucking gorgeous, you taste just as good as I remember," He praises

He seems to know what you want, you whine, your gaze never leaving him as he scoots to the bottom of the bed so his face is buried between your legs. And, of course, Walker doesn't give you what you want as he ignores the aching of your clenching walls instead of biting down hard on the inside of your thighs. You whine in frustration as you dig your hands into his hair, trying to inch him closer.

"Ah ah bad girls don't get rewards" He warns

He teases you even more, his tongue running up your leg even further until he stops at your toes and stops at your ankles, which makes your legs vibrate.

"I kept thinking about you when I was with her - My Wife" He grins.

A smirk grows across your face, and you can't help it. It feels almost powerful to know that while he was fucking his Wife, the Mother of his children, he was thinking of you the entire time. It definitely stroked your ego precisely what he wanted.

He still wears his ring in bed, but you don't mind its presence. It's a constant reminder that she's almost with the two of you in bed together. That thought turns you on even more, especially when it is drenched in your own cum, a little parting gift. You whimper as he digs another digit inside you, this time rougher than the first. Now you can feel the metal of his golden wedding band hitting against your clit, which creates an entirely new sensation adding even more pressure. Before you knew it, you were a quivering mess below him. Walker inched closer, pulling your legs apart with his cold hands.

"Don't hide from me, beautiful" He says as your legs shake.

Finally, he gives you what you want, even with the teasing.

He traced delicate patterns against your clit. You vibrated with each flick of his tongue as he moved faster and faster, like he was craving and dying to have you. Your eyes roll at the back of your head as he hits the spot. You get lost in your pleasure as his tongue rotates around your swollen bud, bringing you the ecstasy you've so badly craved.

"I think you've waited long enough," Walker growls as he presses his hands on the bed inches away from your head, lining his cock into your throbbing wet cunt.

It's easy for him to get his hands going straight to your waist, nails digging into your skin as he begins thrusting and pounding into you. You bounce against the bed, the headboard creaking, and you can feel the metal of the mattress below you jittering, making your heart thump as he quickened his pace. He's so deep inside you that you can feel Walker's cock in the pit of your stomach, and as you look down, you swear you can see it thrusting inside of you. Your whimper is embarrassing even so that Walker reaches his hand out and places it over your mouth.

"God, you're so fucking desperate and pathetic", He taunts, which only makes you cum more.

You wonder how long you can last, probably not long. You had missed Walker so much, but you knew this wouldn't be the last time you would succumb to him.

"Don't give in yet", Walker growls, his lips pressed against your neck. You see him eyeing your skin like he's desperate to leave a huge mark, a hickey so that everyone would see and so that Brendan would know that you were back with him again.

You sigh, but it comes out more like a moan as Walker arches his back into you, distracting you from your thoughts about your brother. He must have known as he pressed his mouth around your neck, biting down hard. It's painful, but you're used to his violent hickeys at this point.

The thrusting of his cock was more unbearable than his bite; it was like you were out of practice as your walls clenched around him.

"So tight" Walker panted as sweat trickled down his forehead, his panting increasing. You had always forgotten how intense his stamina was. He could go for hours and hours even.

He's about to warn you that he's going to cum, but something stops him. A knock.

"What the fuc-" He sneers

You bite his hand, and he lets go, yelping in pain.

"It's Brendan," you tell him urgently.

"Shit, shit," he pants as he tries to come down from his release without spilling all over the bed, but his cum leaks onto the velvet green bed sheets everywhere.

"Hide," you instruct him quickly as you pull down your clothes and conceal your hickey with your long hair.

"Where?" Walker questions.

You run out of options; his cock is leaking too much cum to hide under the bed or in the closet; instead, you decide to shove him under the covers. It's the best you can do for now as Brendan enters, completely oblivious.

"Hey, Sis," he greets.

You whimper, knowing that Walker is below you under the covers. He had complete power to control you like a marionette, to embarrass you and degrade yourself right in front of your older brother.

"What did you want to see me about?" you ask curiously. You could feel Walker's laughter muffled against your thigh. He was clearly taking advantage of this as his teeth grazed against your vibrating skin.

"What? Can I not see My Sister?" He complains.

You shake your head. "Of course not. It's just that… it's been a lot since Lynsey," you say. You don't know why those words came out of your mouth, but they were.

"I know…" He sighs.

And now you feel bad for bringing her up. Lynsey was like an Aunt or a Sister. You were all so close that you considered her family at this point. Now that she was gone, there was a huge gaping hole left that couldn't be replaced.

"How have you been doing? Since everything?" You ask Brendan, fearing Walker had been too quiet under the covers.

"I haven't been doing well…" He admits, "I've been drinking."

And it's at that moment that Walker decides to get up to mischief. He decides to circle his tongue around your wet, throbbing clit. The wetness seemed never-ending as he sucked and sucked against your skin, making you groan.

"Is everything okay?" Brendan asks.

You almost whimper out his name: Walker. With Brendan's eyes lingering on you, it took everything in your power to hold your tongue.

"I'm fine," You tell him, but Brendan doesn't seem to believe it.

"Really? I don't think you've been the same since she's…died. You've been acting differently; you've been studying so much you never come out of your room," he remarks.

You give him a shrug. "I don't know… I just want to do better and have another chance."

"At what?" He asks.

Just as you are about to tell him, Walker decides to continue playing his game. This time, he adds a finger, the one with his wedding ring. You feel an intense shock of cold against the sensitive spot of your skin. You can feel yourself turning red right in front of Brendan, who gives you a puzzled look in return as your breathing grows and hitches.

"I don't buy it," Brendan tells you plainly. "You're trying to use all that to cope, right? I guess I'm glad it's not drugs or… Walker."

You give him a frown, and at that, Walker picks up the pace as he pumps his finger. You brace yourself for an orgasm as your hand reaches for the nightstand beside your bed, clutching it while also aware of your brother's gaze.

"Darling, are you sure you're alright?" Brendan asks. He must know by now that something is going on.

"I'm fine," you stutter.

You can feel Walker groaning and chuckling against your skin as he bites down, clearly enjoying every second while Brendan is entirely oblivious, at least for the most part he is.

"If you need anything, I'm here," Brendan says as he removes your hand from the nightstand and holds it tightly before kissing your knuckles.

You nod as you squirm, but all you can focus on is the dampness spreading beneath you as Walker wriggles under the bed sheets, his tongue exploring every crevice of your clit. The sensation is almost overwhelming, heightened by Brendan's silent presence as he attempts to collect his thoughts.

You know Lynsey was always a soft spot for him, and Walker's boldness only adds to the tension. If Brendan knew that Walker was right under the covers at this very moment, he would be livid.

Still, deep down, you suspect he'd also find a strange satisfaction in it. With a sigh of relief, Brendan finally gets up and exits the room. You wait a while after he leaves before you dare to remove the covers, revealing Walker's messy and unkempt hair as he stares up at you with an irresistible grin.

“I hate you,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Walker licks your essence from his hand. “Are you sure about that?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Very,” you tell him firmly.

#simon walker #simon walker x reader #simon walker fanfiction #simon walker hollyoaks #hollyoaks #hollyoaks fanficton #holyoaks smut #simon walker smut #neil newbon #neil newbon x reader #neil newbon fanfiction #neil newbon smut #simon walker x female reader #walker

[riseatlantisss]

Careful, he bites

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader around 900 words.

morning sex. in bed. with the most amazing vampire. that’s it that’s the plot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW : 18+, shameless smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, tiny bit of fang kink

I love him a completely normal amount

You open your eyes slowly, savouring the blissful, heavy fog of sleep that still weighs on your mind. The voice that greets you is one you’re sure you’ll never tire of.

“Good morning, my sweet”, Astarion whispers against your ear. The bed smells of night-blooming flowers and cold winter air, just like him. His body is a comforting spoon, the nice coolness of his powerful chest sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyelids are still heavy and with a smile, you settle back in and bury your head in your soft pillow, eager for just a few more hours of precious sleep before starting a new day in the underdark.

Astarion, of course, has other ideas. He exhales and you can feel the light puff of cold air against the back of your neck. Icy fingers skate down your bare arm, dragging the strap of your night gown with them. He dips his head and nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He toys with the hem of your night gown before slipping beneath it to caress the curve of your hip. You revel in his low groan of appreciation as he discovers you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Gods, the things you do to me,” he growls, voice muffled slightly as he breathes your scent. “Let me take care of you.”

Wordlessly, you nod and he wastes no time. He gives you a sloppy, hungry kiss that is all tongues, teeth and fangs, and then slowly lowers himself. His fangs leave burning trails across your skin, and you love every bit of it.

You can feel his erection grow next to your thigh and you raise a hand forward to touch him but he grabs your wrist and stops the motion. 

“No, darling,” he grins, “it is all about you today.”

“But –” your attempt to argue is cut short as Astarion disappears between your thighs, wraps his wet lips around your clit and starts sucking. You let out an unbelievably loud whimper of pleasure and he smirks against your body.

Pinning your thighs apart, he works his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. You grind into his mouth shamelessly as his tongue continues working its magic. Without interruption, he slips first one finger, then two inside you, and pushes them up against your G-spot. You’re already starting to see stars as you feel his fangs settle in the soft mound of flesh above your clit. He applies just enough pressure for it to deliciously sting without ever hurting. Those tiny pinpricks combined with the sucking of your clit and the impossible rhythm of his fingers inside you made you cry out.

“Astarion – I’m– “ you try to articulate between two heavy breaths.  

“I’m right there with you, my love,” he mutters and presses his fangs slightly deeper into your skin, as to urge you to stop fighting the wave of pleasure trying to make its way through your shivering body.  

His tongue slips across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always sets you off, and suddenly you are coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his silver hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He pushes his fangs deeper and deeper into your skin as he rides out your orgasm with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady. Your core spasms longer than a pulsing heart, each beat making you thrash helplessly on the bed as he pushes his fingers deep. ​​He waits until you come down from your high before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean. The rest of the world begins to come back into focus but you do not care for it. You only have eyes for him.  

​​"You are absolutely exquisite when you come," he chuckles in that ridiculously arrogant way he has.

He licks his lips as he rises, expression as lazy and smug as a contented cat. You haul him up and into your arms and kiss him hard. He wraps his strong arms around you protectively and takes a moment to listen to your breathing, still shallow from the love explosion. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are real, safe and here, right next to him. 

Before you, Astarion had never known true bliss. Sex – even when it’s mindblowing – doesn’t fix the part of you that’s broken. Good sex soothes, but doesn’t cure, and Astarion, who’s been using sex as a valium substitute since he’s been free from his former Master’s control, knows it better than anyone. But with you, it’s not just sex. It’s safety. It’s intimacy. It’s respect. And it’s all he’s ever wanted.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion imagine #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion fluff #astarion x you #bg3 fic #astarion fic #neil newbon #astarion x oc #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion x fem reader

[angelltheninth]

Astarion Getting Aroused by Your Blood

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, kissing, blood sucking, neck bites, creampie, rough sex, semi-public sex, feral!Astarion

A/N: Not immune to sexy blood suckers.

It was happening before your relationship was official too but he was more subtle about it at that point

The last thing he wanted to do was to make you think he was a pervert

Well he was but even he knows that there is a time and place

It would make him seem a little odd, you bleeding and him with a boner, so he would always run off into the forest to take care of himself

Your blood almost made him lose his mind with lust, just the sight of a single drop made his mouth water and his cock harden

The first taste of your blood, the first bite that you allowed him made him cream his pants, an incident you won't ever let him forget

His pupils dilate when you cut your thumb and move it in and out of his mouth, rubbing the blood all over his tongue, making his hips hump air, his cock begging to feel something around it

Multiple times in the day he will ask to kiss you, and then he will bite you as well, joking how he's oh so tired from the fight, he needs just a little boost

That little boost will give him more then just energy for the day

You haven't been caught fucking in a shady alleyway yet but the amount of times he will get horny from the taste of your blood is enough to drain you, his fangs aren't even needed

When he's thrusting in and out of your pussy and he sees you offering your neck to him he takes the opportunity, coming as soon as your sweet, metallic taste hits his tongue

His mouth may be full of your blood by your pussy is full of his cum

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion imagine #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion fluff #astarion x you #bg3 fic #astarion fic #neil newbon #astarion x oc #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion x fem reader

[justporo]

Who's the goose... (1)

Finally having arrived in Baldur's Gate, Astarion finds the wrong pocket to pick - and gets turned into a goose as punishement. Peace was never an option.

PART 2 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: This might as well have been the stupidest idea I've ever had but I couldn't get it out of my head, so here we are. Thanks for input and giving me some more stupid ideas for this to my bf, @tatterings, @bearhugsandshrugs and @the-littlest-raindrop and @megschaef98 for already cackling about it (and everyone else on that server for your love and support!); ah also Neil Newbon for coming up with this... The wonderful little doodle is once more done by the lovely @azaani-art!

Pairing: Uhm, Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Stupid

Warnings: goose? (I'm sorry, I'm really just running with the bit by now...)

Wordcount: 3,7k

~~~

A goose sat in front of you all.

And it looked weirdly humanoid how it sat there: tiny rubbery legs stretched out in front of it and the wings too – as if it didn’t know how to properly move or place them.

The goose’s head turned around on the long neck to look at you and your companions out of its small red button eyes. The feathers on top of its head were a bit ruffled and almost gave it the look of having a flurry of white curls right there.

It lifted its stretched out wings a little. Looked at them one after another and made a small croaking noise as it did so.

That made it shut its beak again and snap its red gaze back to you.

You looked down at the goose in shock. The goose looked at you with what you presumed was shock too.

And then it opened its beak wide and started wailing with loud honks, as loud as its avian lungs would allow.

The party had finally arrived at Baldur’s Gate. And then had quickly realised that none of you had really an idea where to start your investigation. So, you had taken to walk around the Lower City and just casually ask around to find out more about what seemed to be going on in the city – especially with this Lord Enver Gortash and his newly established Steel Watch.

The day had been long and exhausting. You all kind of had forgotten how a day without a battle, killing and mortal peril was spent – just walking around in the city, engaging in inconspicuous small talk and trying not to lose your mind by getting nowhere with it – what could possibly be more dreadful than that?

Morale had already been low since the start. Halsin had very obviously been a bit unsettled by the big, bustling city, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Jaheira had just stoically taken in the city and what had changed since she had last been there. Lae’zel had basically been gnawing on your ears with her complaints of how stupid your approach of talking to people was. That in turn had made Shadowheart almost want to choke her (again). And Wyll had become awfully silent since you’d entered the city – too much was weighing on his mind. Gale was just sad.

Karlach probably was the only one in quite the happy mood: since it’s been a very long time for her since she’s actually been to Baldur’s Gate she was just amazed by everything she saw. And she promptly called that out. Every. Single. Thing. So really not doing anything to help with the low mood of the group.

You had just tried to make the best out of it although you certainly had had to admit to yourself that the missing success of your day had been weighing on you also. But you had tried to be stubborn about it.

Astarion had walked by your side the whole day, surprisingly diligent on his part. You had felt that he was tense – as could have been expected upon entering the lair of his master again. But he had really tried to support you with your current goals – and you were absolutely thankful for that.

But as the day had grown late you had felt the annoyance rise in him too, just as much as it had within you.

It had already become dark in the city. Lanterns and the pale moonlight now had been the only sources of light. You had known that the group should’ve soon gotten back to the inn to retire for the night – despite having found out nothing today.

But you had wanted to push for one last attempt - unfortunately. And when you had happened upon a rather feisty older fellow, Astarion’s thin-stretched patience had finally snapped.

After you had tried to talk to this guy and he had only kept answering in riddles, you had been about to give up when you had noticed that the vampire beside you had disappeared.

You had feared nothing good from this finding and sure as all Nine Hells you had seen how Astarion had tried to sneak up on this man and pickpocket him.

And this had been, when things had really gone sideways – and then backwards; and down a hill.

With Astarion’s hands still in his robe the man had turned around to the vampire and looked him straight in the eye: “What do you think you’re doing there, young man?” He hadn’t even sounded awfully angry, rather a bit amused.

Astarion had simply blinked at him, absolutely dumbfounded that he had so easily been found out. The guy had watched him for a second longer with a small, suppressed smile playing on his lips and then started to whisper as an ominous purple glow had started to emit from him.

The vampire had hastily tried to scurry back, but it was already too late. An explosion of purple light had blinded you all and made you turn away with groans.

And when you had turned around again, both men standing there had been gone, only a single goose left in their place that had looked dazed and very out of place.

So here you were now: with a vampire turned into a screaming goose.

You really didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry – probably both. The wailing from polymorphed Astarion was ringing in your ears. Gods, geese could be really loud, couldn’t they?

You looked around your group of friends in desperate need for help.

Karlach had completely lost it, almost doubled over on the cobblestone street. Even Lae’zel bit her bottom lip in an attempt to not burst out laughing, covering half her face with one of her hands. But most of your other companions just looked as shocked and surprised as you.

Gale had his hand on his chin and was obviously very deep in thought – surely, he was already figuring something out to fix this mess. At least you immediately deeply hoped for it.

For a moment you just stood there. Warm, orange light from some nearby windows was lighting the absurd scene. The goose’s wailing drifted to the background for a few moments as your vision blurred and your gaze wandered miles away.

How exactly had you ended up in this ridiculous situation? Out of everything, how had all the steps you had taken led you to this night where your already traumatised soulmate had been turned into poultry and was now shouting the whole city down? Didn’t you have enough on your godsdamned plate already? Would the damned gods ever give you a break?

Your eyes started to burn and water as you stared into the void. You really couldn’t take much more.

But how many times had you been at this point? Too many already anyways.

So, you did, what you always did: took a deep breath, closed your eyes for a hot second, pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose and tried to focus your thoughts again.

You’d find a way out of this and if not… Well, you’d find a way to live with Astarion as a goose, for better or for worse.

When you focused again on the scene, you saw how Halsin was slowly approaching the goose that was Astarion and was still honking as if his life depended on it – and maybe it did, who knew? Gale was whispering an incantation and focusing on the goose. The rest was just still standing around with quizzical looks on their faces or casually losing it and losing their last shreds of sanity.

Halsin had almost reached the crying bird, all the while softly mumbling calming words to Astarion. The druid stretched out his arms as if he planned to pick up the still screaming animal.

But just before he could reach it, Astarion saw it coming, stopped his whining and jumped up with fluttering wings. With a quickness that would have been astounding for such an animal, had you not known that it was normally a dexterous rogue, the goose got up from its awkward sitting position and snapped at the fingers of the druid. Halsin immediately recoiled and looked a little hurt.

Astarion was flaring his big white wings now – lifting them up and his long goose neck stretched out, ready to snap again at anyone that tried to touch him. At least he had stopped honking now and was just swaying his head around at all of you standing around him in a loose half circle – ready to fight anyone who would dare touch a single feather on his head.

“Astarion?”, you asked cautiously, fearing that the transmutation hadn’t altered the vampire’s mind as well. The goose immediately turned to you, a small and much more silent honk left its throat. Its wings lowered a little as soon as it heard your voice. “I know this will sound stupid given the situation, but uh, please try to calm down?”, you asked him and made a grimace while you helplessly stretched out your arms to him, bending your knees.

Astarion honked once more in a clearly annoyed tone and let his wings sink fully as if he was letting his shoulders drop in defeat.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered and felt a wave of sadness wash over you. Meanwhile the others had started to get out of their stupor or calmed themselves from their laughter. Everyone stayed clear of the clearly readily violent goose though.

You crouched down fully and stretched out your arms even more towards the animal that kept watching you intently. With no more words or honks, the goose settled down its wings and carefully waddled over to you and your opened arms.

Once Astarion was very close you couldn’t help yourself but go to your knees and reach out both your arms wider for the animal – ready to give it a hug. Astarion slowly stepped into them and you carefully wrapped your arms around the goose as it made a small honk. It sounded pretty sad and helpless and you could suddenly feel tears well up in your eyes.

You held the much smaller animal. The feathers were surprisingly soft and Astarion carefully placed his small goose head on your shoulder with another quiet honk. It was so light you could barely feel it at all resting there.

The mood in the group had suddenly soured watching you take your partner in your arms – no matter the actual ridiculousness of the situation.

You held the goose and petted it softly, until Gale interrupted the awkward silence with an exclamation.

“Aha”, the wizard made and came back out of his trancelike concentration. He looked around in some confusion as everyone watched the tragic scene of you sadly hugging the poor animal that had awkwardly stretched out its wings a little to return the sentiment – it hadn’t really worked well.

“Uhm”, Gale made and then cleared his throat to catch everyone’s attention. The group just looked at him in silence.

“By the gods, what is with the sudden graveyard atmosphere? You all do realise Astarion is not de- I mean…”, he started sassily and interrupted himself when he realised his mistake. And before he could start again, the bird in your arms had started writhing and honking again. Obviously, Astarion had opinions on not getting the same kind of compassion from Gale as from the others now.

He tried to break free from your arms, but you held him easily – he was just… a goose after all. Although, you got whacked in the face by his wings several times. “Astarion!”, you scolded him. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to be feisty right now. And I’m pretty sure he has something to share that will help about the situation you are in. And might I add, the situation you put yourself in on your own!” A bit of anger welled up in you at the vampire and his godsdamned shenanigans that had landed you all in this mess now. Also his audacity to still be sassy about it – not even being turned into a featherball could stop him from that, it seemed.

The goose calmed down, reluctantly. Its beak was still open as it stared at the wizard – probably the equivalent of the vampire baring his teeth at him. You carefully let him go and just sat down backwards on the ground. You could use it right now.

“Now, if we’re not in a poultry house anymore”, Gale continued cheerily and gave the present poultry a death glare. The goose gave a very slight hiss – at least he had retained that capability.

You waved Gale to please go on.

“Alright, it’s – as you might’ve figured already – a transmutation spell. And might I add a mighty one. I really have no idea who that fellow was, but it surely was the wrong pocket to pick, Astarion – or might I say Goosetarion”, the wizard explained in his scholarly manor and wiggled a finger at the goose while grinning – earning himself another hiss. At least someone present seemed intrigued about the whole situation.

Hearing that it was a mighty spell already let your heart sink. But Gale went on and everyone just listened intently: “The good news is though: transmutations spells can’t be held for overly long. So, I’d say we’re back with our sassy humanoid companion in about…” Gale drew out his words as everyone hung on his lips.

“I’d say twenty-four hours at the latest.”

“TWENTY-FOUR HOURS”, came back the answer in unison from almost all the companions – and a mournful honk. Your mouth fell open but honestly you were immediately flooded with relief that you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life with a goose – although you would have committed to that.

“Tchk, and what are we going to do with him in the meantime? Walk him around on a leash? We can’t waste any time!”, Lae’zel commented. Karlach started to snicker again, and so did Shadowheart and Wyll around her.

Goosetarion small red eyes flashed viciously and he quickly lashed out at her like he had at Halsin before, aiming for the githyanki ankle. But Lae’zel had the upper hand and quickly pushed him away with her foot – not exactly kicking him but not exactly being gentle either.

The goose landed ungracefully on its back, legs flailing in the air while it kept complaining and trying to get up again.

“Lae’zel”, you shouted but she simply shrugged at you.

“Well, what else are we going to do? Tomorrow will just be another day of walking around the city trying to gather more information. What harm can it be then? Also, it’s not like we could just leave him here anywhere anyway. Beastly as he is, but he’s still only a goose now, we need to protect him”, Wyll chimed in sympathetically. You nodded your head in agreement and the others muttered their agreement, although some just a tad reluctantly.

Goosetarion in the meanwhile had waddled back over to you to be embraced again, head hanging slightly, doing his best to look like… well, a kicked goose.

You softly stroked his long feathery neck and noticed to your amusement that his rump started to wiggle when you did that. It surely seemed he wasn’t aware that he was doing that. You couldn’t hide a grin and you saw that Halsin grinned at you and the goose too.

“Can we just go back to the inn then? It’s already super late and my feet hurt”, Shadowheart added after it had been settled. Everyone hummed in exhausted agreement.

And so you went on your way. You softly got up from your seat on the cobble road while the goose complained about the lack of caressing happening. You stretched your back and watched after your friends that had already started to walk back towards your location for the night.

“Want me to carry you?”, you asked looking down at the goose and stretched out your arms again. But Goosetarion gave a curt honk and stretched his long neck away from you in an offended manner, then started to waddle after the others.

Now that you knew that he would hopefully be back to his normal humanoid self very soon, the humorous nature of the situation wasn’t as lost on you anymore. The way the goose wiggled its whole torso around while trying to catch up with the others was a sight to behold. Especially if you compared it with Astarion’s usual feline grace. And yet he was way too proud to just accept help.

You snorted and started to follow behind Goosetarion. He heard that and swung his head around while he kept walking, making him look even more ridiculous. You snorted more. And were pretty sure you could see the small red eyes scream bloody murder at you for mocking him.

But Astarion was way too focused and needed all his energy to keep up. Occasionally, he even had to break into a sprint – almost tripping over his rubbery feet and spreading out his wings to not lose balance. It was truly hilarious.

Some idle chatter developed between the companions and you on the way back. And of course, Goosetarion was the subject matter.

“Is there nothing you can do before the spell runs out?”, you asked Gale at some point while you were careful to walk exactly by the goose to offer at least a little protection.

“Oh, believe me, I would if I could – although I have to say I’m enjoying this situation a little bit-“ (“HONK!”) “ but it is, as I pointed out before, a pretty powerful spell. And if I started to fumble with it I might make it worse and-“ (“Honk…”) “- and I guess you’d rather have him back in one piece”, Gale ended and ignored the bickering animal between him and you. You nodded in agreement with the wizard – seemed your safest bet would be to just sit this one out.

“Looks like until tomorrow you’re just going to be a silly little goose then, aren’t you, Asta-OWW!” That had been a line crossed for Goosetarion. And other than Halsin and Lae’zel, the wizard surely was not quick enough to avoid the rogue goose’s vicious attack on his ankles. Gale awkwardly tried to kick at the goose but Goosetarion had learnt from the last time and quickly ducked out of the way, rushing around you so he could hide behind your legs.

“You had that one coming”, you mumbled under your breath as Gale looked at you hurt. He walked a little faster then, trying to steer clear from the murderous bird and engaged others in conversation. Goosetarion waddled through your legs so he was walking in front of you again although you noticed that he was clearly starting to struggle

“And couldn’t you not just at least cast “Speak with animals” or something?”, Karlach took up the conversation about Goosetarion’s fate. You hadn’t even thought of that so far. You had just been too occupied with the situation as a whole. You simply shrugged because you had absolutely no idea.

“But he is not an animal”, Jaheira replied to Karlach’s suggestion in her matter-of-fact demeanor from in front of you. Halsin beside her nodded silently. “He is still his vampiric elven self, just temporarily in another form. Even if Halsin or I wildshaped into geese we would not be able to speak with him because we are at least partly beast when we turn”, the infamous druid added to her explanation. “As far as I know there is no spell to work in this situation. But quite frankly maybe we could all do without his yapping for at least a day and he learns a lesson about all of this”, she finished and gave the goose a stern look.

Goosetarion stopped and made another rather sad honk. He really must have been having the worst and most humbling of times.

You stopped just behind the goose: “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” The look Jaheira gave you made sure though that she absolutely did, but you brushed over it. You held out your arms to the goose again. However, Goosetarion again just waddled off on his own.

But the way to the inn was long and the goose was soon almost completely exhausted, probably amplified by not being used to moving around like that. At some point, when you had already slid out of all the other conversations and were just deep in your thoughts, you were stopped by another soft honk just below you.

Astarion stood before you and had spread his wings towards you, neck craned up towards you. It again looked weirdly humanoid with the way he moved and behaved. When you didn’t immediately react because you were really just very exhausted and didn’t catch on, the goose started to kind of hop in place and honked again.

“Oh, you want to be picked up! Sorry”, you replied and bent down to awkwardly grab the animal.

After some wriggling around and Astarion’s earnest tries to not writhe around too much in your arms, you were able to lift him up. He was stretching his neck and small feet out and made small noises that made you think that he wasn’t quite very comfortable with what was happening. But he gave his best to cope.

Once you kind of had him settled down on your hip, one arm around him and one under him to support him, he seemed to be considerably more comfortable, better even. When you had caught up to the others again and Gale sassily lifted an eyebrow at the goose now being carried around, Astarion made full use of his long neck to peck at the wizard’s sleeve.

Gale squealed again – much to the amusement of the rest of the group and made sure to keep even more distance from the goose. Goosetarion gave a contented honk then and refrained from biting anyone else for the rest of the way.

You were still laughing softly with the others, when the inn came into view. At least you hadn’t lost your humour so far.

(To be continued...)

~~~

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #tav #bg3 #goosetarion #neil newbon #halsin #bg3 companions #wyll #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #jaheira #karlach #gale #gale of waterdeep #goostarion

[whimsywilde]

Astarion's Mirror

I couldn't get this out of my head after seeing the idea mentioned somewhere. (A TikTok comment maybe?) I haven't written fanfic since DAI. How am I back at this again? I'm not 100% satisfied with it but if I fiddle too much, I'll lose interest and it will disappear in the WIP folder. lol Enjoy!

Thank you Larian Studios and Neil Newbon for this incredible, beautiful, heartbreaking character!

Recommened Listening: THE FEELS by Labrinth

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Astarion…” she paused, hesitating, uncertain if the thought that had just danced across her mind would actually work. Sometimes she forgot he was a vampire. His lack of burning up in the sun tended to put his condition out of her mind. The mirror in his hand, however, had brought it back in stark relief. But… what if?

“As adorable as you are when thinking, I can’t help but feel there was more you wanted to say than just my name.” He smirked at her.

She resisted the urge to fall back into their playful banter. “What if you could see yourself… I mean, sort of.”

“What?” It was more of a whispered plea than a question. “How?”

“I’m not sure if it will work. But, the parasites… they’ve let us see into one another's minds before. It makes sense that we could see more.”

She hadn’t really been looking at him while she spoke, her eyes focused on some invisible point in the distance. Turning her attention more directly to him, his expression caught her off guard. She’d never seen him so vulnerable.

“We don’t have to. I’m not even completely sure it would work. I’ve never really tried to use it before. I just thought….”

“Would you try?” He interrupted, his voice still unnaturally hesitant, absent of the bravado she was used to. “Please.” It was almost an afterthought but may have been the most sincere she’d ever heard him.

She smiled tightly, worried now she’d be unable to connect that way, before closing her eyes and reaching for that alien presence within her mind. She hated the feeling of the cold shiver in her skull as she consciously connected to it and then, taking a breath, eyes tightly shut, reached out to where she felt she’d find Astarion. 

At first the connection was light, barely perceptible, like cobwebs in the breeze. After focusing on it for a few seconds, reaching out to it with uncertain hands, it seemed to expand. With her eyes still tightly closed, it was the tide of emotions slowly rolling up in the shore of her mind that hit her first. The anticipation, hopeful expectation, fear and worry. She resisted the urge to retreat from the intensity of his feelings and the jumbled, wordless thoughts that came with them and, again, focused past them. After several seconds, she was surprised to suddenly find herself looking through Astarion’s eyes at herself. She stilled to allow the image of herself solidify in her mind. 

Her eyes opened slowly. She allowed her gaze to linger near Astarion’s feet as gained confidence in the connection. The impatience he was feeling rushed to greet her through the bond.

“Look at me.” It was something between a command and a plea.

She opened her mind to him as completely as she could, wanting him to know that she had no motivations behind her actions and lingering gaze other than to allow him to see himself clearly, to be a mirror. She took a deep breath, centered herself and began to slowly lift her eyes up his body. Her gaze was gentle and curious, more that of an artist studying their work, rather than the lusty intensity of a lover. She followed the narrow slope of his hips up his chest and across his shoulders, her eyes lingering for mere moments before moving on. As she reached his neck, there was a brief glance to the scars that had made him the creature he was, before following his perfectly coiffed hair around his face. 

Part of her still wanted to tease him, to play. They’d been having fun, taken next to nothing seriously while they traveled and fought together. Even when she allowed him to drink from her, always standing since him hovering over her had felt too intimate, she typically pushed him away afterward with a joke on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. It was easy and had been so natural to keep him just close enough without letting him in. The intensity of his feelings pouring into her now was more than she bargained for and she had a moment of regret for offering to even try. She didn’t want to feel so much. It left her vulnerable. Opened her up to much more than she wanted to be aware of. Her eyes had frozen at the base of his throat. Why couldn’t she bring herself to look up? She didn’t like the answers her heart was trying to give. His fingers curled lightly under her chin, lifting her face upward, pulled her attention back. 

Her eyes snapped up to his suddenly and he gasped. The light from the campfire flickered and flashed across brilliant crimson. My eyes. Those are my eyes. His thoughts came through their link in sharp clarity. Her attention refocused on allowing him to see his face after so long in the dark and allowed the intensity of what he was feeling to drown out her own heart. She didn’t need to exist for this moment. She was giving this gift and she allowed herself to fall back within to the place of an observer. With her surrender, it allowed him to direct her eyes across his features. He took himself in fully and they stood in hushed stillness, eyes and minds locked together. 

With their minds so fully blended, she almost didn’t notice her hand absentmindedly reaching out to rest lightly on the side of his face. He didn’t pull away. She used her thumb to pull gently at his bottom lip, exposing his fangs to her gaze. 

They passed several seconds that way before her hand dropped, her vision swirling and darkening. She felt her body sway heavily and would have fallen if Astarion hadn’t caught her. Her head was pounding while her stomach churned. She sent up a silent prayer, to whatever god may be listening, that she wouldn’t vomit.

Astarion supported her body against his gently. When she tried to push away from him, he lifted her carefully and carried her to her tent, laying her down on her bedroll. 

“You pushed yourself too far. You need to rest,” he scolded. She wanted to protest; to throw out some snarky remark in an attempt to catch him off guard so that they could go back to the superficial game they shared, but she couldn’t seem to measure out enough strength to respond. Sleep was quickly overtaking her. She was never sure if he’d actually turned to look at her before leaving the tent and whispered a strangled thank you or if it was just part of the fevered dreams of the night.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion x oc #larian studios #thank you larian #neil newbon

[theonewiththefanfics]

Dare to Hope, Dare to Dream (Part 2/?)

Synopsys: For three years now, Astarion and his love have been relegated to living in the shadows as he lost his ability to walk in the sun. But one day hope is reignited, and the vampire can't help but reminisce how he got where he is now.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Warnings: violence, abuse, talks of SA, character death, SMUT (if there is anything else that should be tagged, please do let me know)

Word count: 5830

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Part 1

The composing of the letter was quick work, as excitement thrummed through their veins, but every passing day diminished the accumulating hope.

It was agonising, waiting for Gale to respond. Where usually Astarion’s mind was preoccupied with Y/N, now it was occupied by that damned tome and that damned fucking page he couldn’t read.

There was a huge possibility it could be nothing but a simple song or a poem. It could be a curse for all he knew, but something in his still heart screamed it could be the thing that set him free from living in eternal darkness and making his love live like that too.

He’d give anything, pay any price for Y/N to be able to walk in the sun again, and if his hand was in hers, wrapped around her waist or tucked against his chest as they enjoyed the wonders of the world in colour, not the perpetual greys of night, he would beg on his knees if he had to.

His love didn’t seem to be fairing any better. She was fidgety all the time, where she used to be able to sit and watch Astarion patching up a shirt of hers or adding gorgeous swirls of gold and silver, now she organised and cleaned his whole tailoring room over and over again. Y/N cooked almost obsessively, way too much food for just one of them to eat, and it almost drove him mad how restless she’d become during sleep as well.

Worry ate at him that Y/N hadn’t gotten proper rest in days, all because of that damned book. Would it be worth it? Would her losing sleep be worth it in the end? Nothing that hurt her was, not in Astarion’s mind, but whenever he asked her to leave something be, said that he’d pick it up, she’d simply shrug and say, “No time like the present.”

Taking into account his feedings as well, his heart twisted at the thought that all of this was weighing on her shoulders, but luckily at least some of the burden of wait was lifted when Gale’s answer came.

To their relief, the wizard gave them good news and apologies, as he’d travelled beyond the Sword Coast with his grandfather, but would be taking the first available ship to Baldur’s Gate. It would take at least three weeks of travelling, but he would waste no time beyond that and go straight to their home, and that left the two anxious lovers to occupy their time however they could.

Y/N had already rearranged the whole library twice by then, half in search of figuring out where this mysterious book had come from, half in absolute boredom, while Astarion had taken to sowing and stitching dresses and tunics and shirts and trousers and even a gorgeous set if not a scandalous one of lingerie for Y/N (which he had promptly ripped to shreds that same morning she’d donned it to go to bed).

She’d admonished him through a desperate moan, as his tongue had skimmed against her neck, lace scraps still around her ribs and hips, nothing more left of the intricate design he’d so patiently made. Not that it’d covered much in the first place.

“I’ll make you hundreds more just to rip all of it off again,” Astarion groaned as her hips ground up against him, delicious friction causing him to respond in kind.

“But it was so beautiful!” Y/N whined when Astarion took her wrists in one of his hands and held them in a tight grip above their heads.

“Nothing is as beautiful as you completely bare and uncovered for me. So… delectable…”

Let’s just say neither of them could get out of bed after the sun had set, as their legs wobbled at the lightest touch to the ground, leading them to another day of sleeping in, and a night of passionate debauchery.

However, as much as Astarion wished to stay like that with Y/N, both of them naked and twined in bed, other things had to be done around the house, and at that moment, he’d asked Y/N to model a dress for her.

He didn’t dare say the cut was based on a sketch hidden deep in his drawers, and originally it was made of white lace with an accompanying veil, not the jade colour he’d cut it in now.

“Do you think we’re harbouring false hope?” she asked, colour-coding his threads and placing the box neatly back on the table after Astarion allowed her to redress and was happy with how the skirt flew around her hips.

“In what way, my dear?”

“I just,” Y/N huffed, sitting down on the arm of the chair next to him, watching how his quick fingers stilled their needlework so as to not poke her accidentally. “I don’t want you to be disappointed if this… if this isn’t what we think it is. I know how much you miss the sun.” Y/N gently threaded her fingers through his moon-white locks. “I know how guilty you feel for me having to forego it. You don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted whatever was on Astarion’s tongue. “I can see it on your face.”

He looked down at the green gown’s hem he was embellishing. He’d tried so hard to hide the guilt seeping through his veins. He didn’t want her to know that; he already burdened her life as is.

“I can’t say it wouldn’t hurt if what we hope doesn’t come true.” Astarion put the needle and dress on the table, turning to Y/N and pulling her into his lap. “I wish I could give you the world, but I can barely give you half… if even that much. You deserve so much more than what you’ve deemed enough. I just want to… give you more…”

“My Star, please don’t even think you’re not enough for me.” Y/N brushed a pale curl behind his ear.

He gave her a rueful smile. “A little mind-reader you are, aren’t you?”

She simply shrugged, melting against his chest, his undead heart beating just a tad stronger at how much comfort she got from simply being held by him. “It’s not so hard nowadays when you’ve become an open book to me.”

Astarion had nothing to respond to that because he knew he had, at least with Y/N. He might not voice it out loud, but his heart was open. Yes, fear still lingered in bleeding gashes around the edges, but he knew, she’d always be there to dab at the pained spots and heal them with a kiss.

“I’m not leaving,” she mumbled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not now, not ever. Not when the sun sets or rises. An army would have to come in and tie me up before dragging me away from you. And even then, I’d be kicking and screaming, biting my way out to get home.”

Astarion’s breath stuttered, but he didn’t mention what the words of her referring to him as her home did to him. “I just want if only a minute to stand in the sun with you. If that’s all I’m given for the rest of eternity, it’s what I’ll take. Just a moment with you in the sun.”

Y/N took his chin between her thumb and pointer finger, tilting his head up so their eyes could meet – his scarlet ones brimming with unshed tears, her own Y/E/C ones filled with nothing but sure-fire determination. “Whatever is in that book, spell or no, we’ll figure it out. But one day, I know, you will be able to walk in the sun again. I’ll make sure of it. Even if I have to raise all nine hells, I’ll find a way.”

“I know you will.” Astraion sighed, letting the tears roll down his cheeks. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Y/N’s laughter was the most gorgeous symphony to his ears. She gave a light kiss to the very tip of his right one, a shiver of pleasure rushing down his spine. “We’ll figure it out, my Star.”

That morning, just a couple of hours after their conversation, as Y/N was closing all the shutters to their home so as to not let in the sun of the new day, Astarion slid his palm into hers, tugging her to their bed while kissing every inch of her skin he could get to.

He needed to be close to her, he needed to sink into her and fuse together, become as close to one body as possible, otherwise, it was like he was going to combust from the love unless he could bathe her in it.

“I need you,” Astarion whispered against her cheek, as Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You have me,” she responded in kind. “All of me is yours if you want it.”

A shudder went through his body as he swiftly, but tenderly rid both of them of their clothes, gentle hands running over Y/N’s hips and sides, as she lightly squirmed away from him when he playfully dug his fingers against her ribs, before trailing their way to her stomach, where a jagged scar stood slightly raised against the rest of her body.

“And I’m yours. Body and soul,” Astarion said, still looking at that scar while he slowly slipped his frame to rest atop, his cock sliding through her already slick folds, lightly nudging his tip against her clit in a teasing manner.

“Mine,” Y/N sighed out dreamily, as he filled her, her legs locking around his hips, ankles crossed over the small of his back to pull him deeper until their hips rested flush against one another.

A slight whimper escaped him as he affirmed. “Yours… just yours, my love.”

He’d never thought that such a word as “mine” would bring him such feelings of love and adoration.

Astarion had always wanted to belong. He’d always wanted a family, friends or a true lover to build his life with, but for a horribly long time, all because of Cazador, that wish was locked away in a tomb just like him. And after a while of pain and misery, he just gave up on the idea as a whole. Belonging to someone became a despised thing, a notion he had no free will. He was a pet, a thing to be had and done with as his master pleased.

But then that Nautiloid ship happened, and he gained allies. Who morphed into friends, and then Y/N, the oddest one of their group, became so much more than that.

That night when he’d offered himself to her, he’d been ready to use his body as coin, as he’d been taught, if it granted him food, shelter and protection. Astarion was used to whoring himself out, but that wouldn’t be the worst he’d done. At least Y/N was nice to look at. She included him in conversations during the day and asked for his opinion. It would most certainly be lovelier than the other times.

Yet she’d surprised him and said no. She still offered him all the things he asked for, even her neck if he needed to feed, but Y/N was adamant she would not take sex as payment for such things.

Astarion took a surprised step back. “Am I – do I not appeal to you?”

Why did it sting? Why did the thought of the answer being “yes” hurt so much?

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s just that you don’t have to ask for those things and sleep with me as payment.”

“Oh.” That stumped him truly. His mind reeled at her words. “Then what is it that you want?” A cheeky comment was right there for him to spit out, but he refrained.

Y/N shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe patch a hole in a shirt, if it gets too ruined? Help me carry part of my loot if it gets too heavy? We’re friends, or at least good travel companions, I’d like to think.”

That moment had changed everything for Astarion. It had changed how he looked at himself and what he could ask of the world. She’d helped him learn he could say no.

When Y/N had been close to decapitating that vile Drow Araj after she looked at him like he was a puppet for Y/N to use, Astarion had confessed that night – his whole plan of seducing her, securing his safety and getting in her good graces so he always had someone to have his back if suddenly the rest of their party decided to turn against him.

The kiss they’d shared, initiated by Astarion himself, felt like the first kiss of his life. He was jittering like a youth as Y/N’s lips pressed to his. And for the first time in ages, he thought maybe he had someone, to be with not belong to.

When she cried out in ecstasy as Astarion started to move, slowly dragging his hips back and forth, allowing her to feel every ridge and dip and immersing himself in the warm, wet feeling surrounding him, his thoughts couldn’t help but wander to that moment in the Szarr Palace when Y/N had cried in pain instead as Cazador’s knife dug deep into her gut.

She’d gone in for an attack in an attempt at freeing Astarion from the grasp of the Ascension ritual, and she had almost gotten Cazador, had the vampire not moved in the last second, twisting away from her sword and delivering the critical hit himself.

Someone screamed so loud, the sound verged on popping Astarion’s eardrums. It was only when his throat went raw he realised it was him screaming.

Cazador didn’t even bother to pull the knife out, letting Y/N drop to the ground in a heap, her blood trickling out of her wound and pooling around her body, staining the tiles a deep red.

Astarion wanted to retch at the sight.

“Pathetic,” Cazador spat. “Both of you.”

Nothing but white-hot rage coursed through Astarion’s veins as he watched his master walk around Y/N’s crumpled form, nudging her with his foot as if she were nothing more than a worm.

“I cannot deny,” Cazador mussed. “For a brief second, I did consider turning her into a new addition to our family. It would have been fitting – my prodigal son, returning and bringing the last piece I need. A fitting punishment, for your disobedience, Astarion, wouldn’t you agree? You’ve broken pretty much all of my rules, and someone has to pay.”

Cazador turned his back on Y/N, obscuring Astarion's view of her. “And how poetic would have it been, had it been you draining her, taking every last drop of her blood, only for me to sire. I think I would have enjoyed your screaming immensely, but no matter. It would only be a waste of time.” The vampire master smirked at a struggling Astarion. “Tell me – was her blood sweet? It smells absolutely delectable. Maybe I should have a little taste.”

“Fuck you!” Astarion roared. “Damn you to all nine hells!”

Cazador only chuckled. “Maybe a couple of decades in that tomb of yours will do you good. Remind you of manners. Or maybe I will let Godey -,” but he didn’t manage to finish whatever horrors he was already painting in his mind as he choked on the words.

The vampire’s dark brows furrowed as he slowly glanced down and saw a blade protruding from his stomach, the hilt buried deep against his spine.

Surprise, anger and confusion all flashed across the immortal’s face as Y/N yanked the dagger out. Cazador slowly turned and found Y/N standing before him, a hand clutching against her stomach.

“That,” she gasped. “Is for what you did to me and this,” she thrust her hand again, this time letting the blade go clean through Cazador’s neck, “is for what you did to Astarion.”

She left the blade there, taking a few steps back on swaying feet, but it was enough of a distraction to break Cazador’s concentration and Astarion dropped free.

He was on his feet in an instant, pulling the knife Y/N had plunged back out and then smashing it deep into Cazador’s gut over and over and over again until there was nothing left of him but a mangled, almost cut-in-two, corpse.

Astarion dropped to his knees, chest heaving with exertion, his whole body covered in blood, all of it Cazador’s. Who was dead.

Cazador was dead.

His master, his torturer, the one who robbed him of his life and choices was finally gone.

Relief rolled through him like a tidal wave, his body slowly but surely wracked by sobs as catharsis set in. Two hundred years of pain and misery, two hundred years of not owning his body or mind, and now he was suddenly free.

He didn’t know how to process such a realisation. It seemed almost easier to live his life in fear, to constantly look over his shoulder and go to bed with the thought his miracle of a chance at life could be taken away at any moment. In that way, he didn’t have to create friendships or relationships, he didn’t need to get close to anyone and risk losing them. He could just always keep peeking through the tiny slit from the boarded-up window, instead of poking his head through the crack in the door.

So what was he to do now, when that door had been blasted wide open?

“Y/N,” Astarion whispered her name, his head snapping up and scanning the hall, quickly landing on her body.

She’d collapsed about fifteen feet away from Cazador, but it took him less than five seconds to be by her side. With trembling hands, he took her by the shoulder and turned her on her back, so he could see her face.

A sob raked through him. “Please,” Astarion begged, pulling her head to rest on his thighs. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Star,” his name was a moan of pain from Y/N’s lips. And he hated it.

It was supposed to be a sigh of pleasure as his tongue lapped against her sweetest spot, a groan of delight when he sank into her, his hands holding hers, lips pressed together in a reassuring kiss. It was supposed to be a laugh between hiccups as he joked and snarked. It was supposed to be anything but this.

Her body was covered in so much blood, and had it been Cazador’s he would have been fine, but he knew it wasn’t. It was her own, that sweet and tantalizing scent of it running up his nose. Usually, the tiniest drop of it, could turn him feral, but all it did now was make bile rise in his throat as more and more of it coated his hands and the floor around them.

“I’ll complete the ritual,” he choked, brushing a strand of matted-down hair away from Y/N’s face. “And then I’ll save you.”

“Don’t,” she gasped, begging him. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t let you die,” he could barely manage the words, but she still heard them and shook her head.

“And I will not let you kill innocents just to save my life.” Y/N clutched at his arm as tightly as she could with all her remaining strength that was weaning with every passing second. “If you do this, I will never forgive you. You’ll become just like Cazador. And I know you are so – so much more than that. Than him. Don’t let Cazador win. You – you fought so hard,” she sobbed out, half at the implication of what he’d overcome, half at Astarion pressing down on her wound as he attempted to staunch the bleeding, but to no avail. “Don’t throw all of it away. Not for this.”

Astarion swivelled his head around desperately as if a response on what to do could be found in the room, yet nothing but Cazador’s mangled body and the pool of blood it’d created answered.

“Please,” he whispered, leaning down and pressing his forehead to Y/N’s and once again repeated. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” her response was barely a puff of air. “I will always be right here with you, Star. To the very end.”

Y/N placed her palm right where his undead heart broke into pieces, and when she closed her eyes, the only sound left was the echoes of his screams.

He might’ve been screaming for ages, Astarion didn’t know nor did he care. All he knew was that his love, his sun, his reason for living was gone.

The sound of the door being broken down invaded his mind, as many pairs of footsteps entered, but Astarion paid no mind to his friends. They could all go to the nine hells with Cazador for his sake, as long as he got to stay with Y/N.

He heard Karlach, the gentle giant of their group gasp out Y/N's name, and even Lae’Zel’s hiss of surprise was unmistakable, the scene before them rendering the rest speechless.

“She almost looks like she’s sleeping,” Astarion muttered, tracing his knuckles against Y/N’s cold skin. So close to his own temperature he didn’t feel the difference. A tear splashed against her cheek, rolling down her temple and disappearing into her hairline.

“Astarion, Shadowheart can help,” Wyll said, stepping closer, but the pale elf just shook his head.

“No,” he muttered, tracing her unmoving features with his thumb. “No one will hurt her. Not anymore.”

“Astarion, she won’t hurt Y/N,” Gale piped up. “We can bring her back.”

But he wasn’t listening anymore. He didn’t care what they were saying. No one else would ever touch her. No one would ever dare hurt her again. He’d set the world on fire if they so much as touched a hair on her head.

His friends however had different ideas. With apologies on their lips, they grabbed him, ripping him away from Y/N, her body unceremoniously dropping to the ground from where her head had been resting against his thighs.

“I’ll kill all of you!” Astarion screamed, trying to bite and scratch as he was pulled further and further away from Y/N. “Some friends you are!”

It took Karalch physically ripping him away from Y/N’s dead body, Lae’Zel and Wyll helping her pin him to the ground as Shadowheart and Gale crouched beside his love, while Astarion trashed against their hold.

“He took her,” Astarion wailed and roared, his pain echoing in the chamber around them. “He took her!"

There was no need for elaboration. Not even Lae’Zel, always so quick to show her disdain against emotion, spoke. Instead, she moved a bit to the side, so Astarion could at least be granted the gift of seeing Y/N’s face as Shadowheart and Gale hovered over her dead body.

“He killed her, and I could do nothing about it,” Astarion whimpered, eyes focused on the serene look his lover had in death. He only hoped she felt at peace wherever she was.

A pale blue light glowed from Shadowheart’s hands, Gale’s power feeding hers.

“It won’t work.” He let the tears fall freely from his eyes. “She’s gone.”

It was a resigned statement from someone who was completely exhausted. He’d prepared for never leaving the Szarr palace, for dying, if he had to, but he’d never prepared himself for losing Y/N. She had become such a staple, such a sure thing in his life, he no longer could imagine how a single day without her smile could go. But now she was gone and –

His brows furrowed. It had to be a trick of his mind, a hallucination his grief-stricken heart was conjuring up, but there it was – the sweetest sound in the world he never thought to hear again – Y/N’s heartbeat.

A ragged intake of breath shattered through the hall, and he watched as her lashes fluttered. Her lungs stuttered as if they needed a minute to reconnect with her brain before they levelled out and remembered how to breathe.

Karalch, Wyll and Lae’Zel released their hold, and Astarion slowly sat up on his forearms. When Y/N took in her first full steady breath, Shadowheart slumped over, Gale already having expected it, dropping into a crouch and allowing her to lean on his side.

He couldn’t believe it. Y/N had died in his arms, he’d watched her life’s blood seep across his hands, and yet there she was – on the ground, her heart beating and lungs dragging in short breaths, barely but still.

“She needs rest,” Shadowheart said, running a soothing hand down her friend’s cheek. “As do I.”

“Let’s get back to the inn.” Wyll approached and helped the exhausted cleric, as he wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her up, without much of a fuss. Lae’Zel and Gale hovered over Y/N until Astarion was capable of getting to his feet, knees trembling like a fawn's. Whether they were there for him or her, Astarion didn’t know but appreciated nonetheless.

“Would you like me to carry her?” Gale offered, a gentle look on his face, nothing but concern evident, but Astarion shook his head.

“I’ll do it.” His voice was raw from the screaming and crying, but he didn’t care to clear it as he gently lifted her up.

Y/N’s head lolled to rest against his chest as if on instinct and he had to push down a sob as he felt her warm, alive body curl into his own, like so many times before now.

Karlach laid a leather jacket across Astarion’s naked shoulders, but all he could concentrate on were the shallow breaths entering Y/N’s lungs, her slow but steadily beating heart and the way her fingers curled against where his still one rested.

The whole trek back to the lodgings they’d procured previously, Astarion was numb, completely and utterly numb save for the incessant need to check if Y/N was breathing. He was struggling to figure out his emotions.

As he laid her down in the bed, Karlach lighted a fire and Gale promised to bring a cloth and some warm water for Astarion to clean Y/N up, he couldn’t help but grieve Cazador.

He didn’t stray from his love’s bedside not even for a second, keeping vigil day and night, but most importantly watching her chest rise and fall with deep, even breaths, yet some part of him mourned his master as well.

Three days after the events of the Szarr Palace, Astarion had reluctantly agreed to have a quick wash while Karlach watched over Y/N. He regretted that decision more than anything because sometime during the ten minutes he allowed himself to get rid of the crusted blood, she had awoken.

When he re-entered the bedroom, Astarion almost fainted at the sight of her beautiful Y/E/C eyes boring into his scarlet ones.

“Hello, Star,” she croaked through a smile, and he almost crumbled then and there by the doorway, had it not been for the tight grip on the knob.

Karlach made a quick exit, but not before placing a warm palm against his shoulder, giving him a slight nudge in Y/N’s direction, though he didn’t need one. It was like she had a magical pull, making him stumble across the room before his knees gave out with a hard thud and his hand desperately sought out Y/N’s. When their fingers entwined in a tight hold, he swore to himself to never let go of her again.  

“I thought I lost you,” his voice broke. “I – I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I’m sorry,” her own tone was quiet, barely a whisper. “But I couldn’t just let him hurt you more.”

“I know. I know you… I just…” He huffed, brows furrowing as he searched for the correct words. “I thought when I got my freedom back, you would be there by my side, but instead you were the cost of it.” Astarion choked on the word “cost”. “But at the same time, I couldn’t help but mourn the loss of him.” He didn’t say his name, he’d decided Cazador wasn’t worth having the honour of a name spoken aloud.

“And it felt disgusting. He hurt you. He took you from me, and yet… I didn’t even have him left after your… your… heart stopped,” Astarion took a shaky intake of breath. “I was completely and utterly alone. When Shadowheart appeared, I was almost tempted to ask her to revive him just so I could kill him again for what he did to you… and maybe, just so I wasn’t alone.”

Astarion lifted his gaze, resting his cheek against the palm Y/N had untwined from his, so her soft thumb could brush away the rivers of tears spilling down his face. “Please don’t leave me again. I’m – I’m not strong enough to go through it once more.”

“You are, my Star,” Y/N kissed his forehead. “You are so strong.”

“Let me rephrase that then – I don’t want to go through anything in life. Not without you by my side.”

“I promise,” she muttered and leaned forward pulling Astarion to lay next to her, sealing the vow with a kiss.

And though he still struggled with nightmares of that fight, though he still woke up breathless at times, arms desperately searching for the warm body that always occupied the other side of the bed, the deepest reassurance he could ever have that everything was alright, that Y/N was safe and sound, were moments like these when her body melted against his, where she was panting and gasping and so full of life, especially as Astarion hit that one spot that made Y/N throw her head back in a moan of pleasure.

Her nails dug into his shoulders with such a delicious taste of pain, never drawing blood though, but always leaving crescent imprints he wanted to keep on his body forever. Like Y/N’s touch could erase everything Cazador had left on him.

Y/N’s back arched, and Astarion used the moment to slip his hands underneath and pull her upwards from the bed so that she was resting in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, chest to chest, and him buried so deep, it made both their eyes roll to the backs of their heads in pleasure.

She’d taught him sex could be wonderful. It could be meaningful and lovely, instead of a means to an end or a bargaining chip to be used. It had taken a while for Astarion to grow comfortable with even the thought of her touching him, but nowadays, he became quite the grump if he ever awoke not in Y/N’s arms, even if it was for such a simple reason as nature calling her.

Her touch was the balm on sunburnt skin, her kiss was a reassurance that it needn’t go further than that and he could always say no and would be listened to. But in moments like these, all Astation wanted was more. He wanted to feel her squeeze around him, to hear her breath choke at the back of her throat, he craved to feel her pulse race as she climbed higher and higher, closer and closer to her orgasm with every thrust of his hips.

Sex had been something repulsive and vile to him. Now it was the most beautiful thing he felt blessed to participate in, all because of the woman moaning his name above him.

“I’m so close,” she whispered in his ear as Astarion kissed her neck, heart thundering in her chest.

“Let go,” he muttered, a shiver rolling down Y/N’s spine at the pleading tone of his words, making her grip his back tighter, and dig in her nails more. “Let go, I got you.”

She whimpered at his coaxing words and tightened so much around his cock, it became almost impossible for Astarion to keep pumping in and out, so he slid a hand down across her chest to her clit, just to push her over that edge she was teetering on.

Two deft fingers circled around the swollen bud, once, twice and that was it for Y/N to break. With a sigh of his name, she came, hard, taking him along as well, the orgasm surprising Astarion with its intensity and how quickly it’d crept upon him.

Bliss exploded through his veins, and his nails dug into the small of Y/N’s back, always careful to not hurt her, but deep enough to leave moon-shaped marks on her body, the same ones she no doubt had left along his back and shoulders as they both succumbed to euphoria.

A moan got stuck in his throat before slipping past his lips as Y/N ground down one final time, before stilling her hips and relishing how he filled her until the mix of their pleasure ran down their thighs and stained the sheets below. Never mind that though. It was a problem for future Astarion and Y/N.

They both were trembling as, slowly, the orgasmic wave subsided, and as they came down from their highs, Astarion couldn’t help but place a cheeky kiss on Y/N’s neck, letting his fangs skim along her skin and feel her pulse spike at that.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, her hands slowly skimming up and down his spine, body still rocked by pleasure. “If you want a snack, you know all you have to do is ask.”

“I’m fine,” Astarion mumbled, burying his nose in the crook of her neck. “I just… I just love you. That’s all.”

At least that’s what he said, but underneath laid a thousand other words – I need to feel your heart beating. I have to feel your skin against mine. I need to hear you breathing and know that you’re alive and here with me. That he wasn’t imagining it as some sort of a hallucination and wouldn’t wake up back under Cazador’s control with her body lying dead on the ground by his feet.

Y/N hummed in content, pressing a kiss to Astarion’s chest. “I love you too. So much.”

A smile bloomed on his lips as he pulled away just a bit so he could cup Y/N’s face between his hands. “I don’t know what I may have done in my previous life, and I certainly don’t know what I did in this one to ever deserve someone like you, but whatever it was… I’m glad I did.”

The way her eyes shone would have brought Astarion to his knees, had he already not been kneeling on the bed. Y/N was just about to pull him in for a deep kiss when their moment was disturbed by the bell of their house ringing.

They knew it was daytime. And only one person would ring it then.

Astarion looked at Y/N.

She lifted a brow. “Ready to figure out what’s in that book?”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “With you, I’m ready for anything.”

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: I am in love with pixels on a screen...

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #astarion ancunin #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion x reader fluff #astarion x y/n #astarion x you #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #neil newbon #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion angst #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion smut #astarion ancunin smut #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion

[sirens-ark]

Astarion x reader

Pt 1/?

"You're so adorable when you're thinking of what to say." Astarion states with a cheeky smirk.

You're sitting in your bedroom playing bg3 like you do every night after work.

The usual prompts to reply to astarion pop up.

Can we talk about us.

I'd like you to stay at camp for a while.

Leave

Of could you wouldn't just leave him dead in conversation. You click can we talk about us

"US? I still love the sound of that." His character model sways. Your cursor hovers over your favorite option:

May I kiss you?

You know what he is going to say to that, you click that prompt too often to forget. Your cursor jitters for a moment. You didn't move the mouse, possibly a glitch? You shrug it off, the game is so big there's bound to be something here and there.

Finally you click the option. Nothing happens. Astarion doesn't say anything, yet his expression begins to look worried. The cursor jitters again, worse than before. It's flying across the screen. You panic. Is your game crashing? Will I lose all my progress?

Your head is starting to feel light and your vision is blurring. You try to stand up but you can't move. It feels as if someone has turned your body to stone.

Darkness covers your eyes while you sense the upcoming of the worst headache you have ever felt in your life. Screaming as hard as the pain will give you. You can feel your body going numb to the point you feel as if your floating.

Are you actually floating? Blindness and pain fills your head. You close your eyes believing that it will stop all of this. It the worst nightmare that you think can have.

Suddenly it's gone. Your eyes still closed, the feeling in your body is back, the pain is gone. Your on your back? Did you fall down? Birds are chirping and you can feel wet dewy grass beneath you. You inhale the biggest breath you can and sigh.

It's over.

"oh gods! Are you alright my love!?" You could recognize that voice anywhere.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #tav #ao3 fanfic #astarion x reader #irl you is in bg3 lol #wyll ravengard #astarion bg3 #baulders gate 3 #neil newbon #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic

[spicechica]

Ernst Robinson x fem reader AU

*this idea has been in my head for a while, ever since I re-watched barbie as the island princess. But, imagine Ernst having a relationship with an island girl and slowly falling for her*

You peaked through the damp forest trees, watching below as you spotted two cuertin creatures that walked and talked, like you. You slowly move up the tree branches, causing the leaves to russell. “Did you hear that?” You stop in place thinking they spotted you, until you hear the loud echoes of crunching twigs and low grunts coming from the bushes below. The two step closer towards the rustling sounds, until it stops…..”Run!” The loud grunt of a large boar emerges from the bushes, charging after the two. 

You quickly follow behind, still staying out of sight, watching as they both struggle to climb up a nearby tree, the boar almost nipping at their feet. You pierce your lips together and blow in the boar's direction, causing it to startle and run away into the large bushes, allowing the creatures to catch their breaths.

“Who’s there?”, one of them shouts. “Please, we're looking for our brother. We got shipwrecked and now we're stuck here…please help us!” You sigh and slowly emerge from the tree, lightly landing your bare feet on the cold wet ground. Not like you haven't gotten used to it by now, your feet were already covered in dirt, bruises, cuts, grime, and any other part of the forest you've explored that day. 

You keep your hand on your pocket sized knife you made from rock and yarn, not sure if you should trust these…People? “A girl.” A young boy, looked to be about 15, short messy hair, and now covered in dirt, slowly steps towards you, while you hesitantly take a step back. “It’s alright. We’re not going to hurt you. I’m Fritz…and this is my brother, Ernst.” You glance over at the other boy. He looked older, about 17 or so, taller, had slightly longer hair than the other, and had these piercing blue eyes. 

“Can you speak…English?” Fritz asked. You slowly nod, continuing to scan the boys up and down like a feral cat.“Could you help us? We're looking for…” As he tries to touch you, you quickly point your knife towards him, the tip barely piercing neck. “Wow…wow, wait…we're not looking for any trouble.”, Ernst said with a shaky voice. “We were in a shipwreck and…”, “Shipwreck?” you replied. “Yes, at the front of the island.” you remove your knife away from Fritz neck and look to the floor. 

It’s been years since you’ve seen another person, and from what he said reminded you how you got here in the first place. You sigh, “You said you needed help, right?”, they both nod. You didn’t know if you should trust these boys, but you had a gut feeling that something good might come out of this.

Both the boys stare at you as they proceed to lead the way, gazing at your unique attire. You wore an old white cloth that you wrapped around yourself and tucked into your sides. When you first washed up on the island you wore an old childs Victorian dress with ruffles all over, but over time the dress became damaged and mangled, and soon you started to grow out of it, to where you could barely fit it over your shoulders if you wanted to. Surprisingly, your hair was pretty neat and tidy, placed in a neat french braid ponytail tied back with vine . Of course, you had no shoes. as you grew out of those as well, so through the years you had just gotten used to being barefoot, and whatever you stepped on you’d just had to be lucky it wasn’t poisonous. “You think she’s from a previous shipwreck?” Ernst whispered. You couldn't properly remember the night of the wreck, but sometimes you could imagine bits and pieces here and there, but most of the time it was a haze. 

“Father! Mother!” Fritz shouted. “Fritz”, his mother called. “Where were you? You were supposed to stay on this side of the island!” His father shouts in a stern voice, his face almost turning red. “Yes, but father we found…a girl.”  They all look up at you, shocked to see a girl your age in this state, and surprisingly alive. “Oh my goodness.” Their mother takes her damp shawl and wraps it around you, trying to cover your body from the boys. You jolt away at first, confused why, you never really cared to notice the changes in your body, or even know what it was like to experience woman hood. So it was clear she was covering you so you would have some decency. “Where did you find her?”, “In the forest, she helped us get away from a boar,” “A boar!” their younger sister shouts. “Oh you poor thing. What’s your name sweetheart?” 

“My name is…is…Y/n.” 

PART 2!??

#Ernst Robinson #Ernst Robinson x reader #stranded 2002 #Stranded #neil newbon #story #fanfiction #Island AU #DID ANYONE ELSE DESPERATELY WANT TO BE ISLAND BARBIE AS A KID BECAUSE WHY DOES THAT ISLAND LOOK BEAUTIFUL AF! #AND HER OUTFIT #GOD! #ERNST IS SO GOD DAME CUTE ♡

[geekishfangirl]

Someone’s gotta be the one to write a fic about Astarion being aware of the reader and since I can’t play the game and therefore don’t know enough about the plot to do it, it’s gotta be one of y’all

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #archive of our own #fanfic #fanfiction #neil newbon #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #please someone do it in desperate #i need him carnally #if anyone knows where I can watch a full play through of his route #let me know IMMEDIATELY

[crowreys-wormstache]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Astarion/Tav (Baldur's Gate) Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: Body Worship, Mentioned Cazador Szarr, Post-Canon, Comfort, Praise Kink, Astarion Has a Praise Kink (Baldur's Gate), Scars, Astarion Does Not Ascend (Baldur's Gate), Female Tav (Baldur's Gate), Fluff and Smut Summary:

Astarion gets uncomfortable when Tav tries to touch the scars on his back. One evening they finally talk about it and Tav shows him just how much she adores him - scars and all.

#Congrats Larian on getting me to write my first ever smut LMAO #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion/tav #fanfiction #ao3 #larian studios #neil newbon #jess talks

[tavyliasin]

PTSD and Baldur's Gate 3 - Healing Through Fiction

(Extract) It should never have been allowed to come to this. You deserved better, you were always worth more than this, even if it would take you years to understand it; this was not your fault. Reality shifted and warped around you, a glimmering portal opening between your world and one you could never have even dreamed of. The first apparition was a blur of vivid red skin, dressed in ragged black leather, a feral warcry tearing from heated lungs with a faint smell of fire and metal. The blur was past you in a moment, quickly becoming a barrier between you and everything in front of you. “Not this time. Not while I’m here.” She growled. “We can’t rewrite the whole bloody past, but we’re here now. ” With barely a moment’s pause to realise what was happening, you felt strong arms lift you, wrapping you up in a blanket scented with moss and rain. The warmth of an embrace, careful hands tenderly holding you with a feeling of complete safety. “Be still, my heart, you’re not alone any more.” Slender fingers, far colder than those of whoever was carrying you, caressed your hair and stroked your cheek. “We are right here, darling. Just as you were, or as you will be I suppose… Best not to think too hard on that one, alright?” You blinked as you tried to recognise the strange beings around you. Pointed ears - pointed teeth - who… Your mind was flooded with memories you had yet to make, head swimming with knowledge it couldn’t comprehend, except for one thing: you can trust them. They can change this part of your story.

I'm sharing this fic after watching the Golden Joysticks, particularly Neil's speech. It was moving, emotional, personal, and I felt it ricochet through my soul. That's why I'm sharing this again. This is how I am coping with PTSD triggers through the medium of fiction. When a trigger hits and feelings or flashbacks start to try and creep in, I choose to rewrite it, to override the pain and the fear with comfort and a kinder story. You are never alone, darlings, we are stronger together. First we survive, then we learn how to live again.

#bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ptsd #complex ptsd #ptsd recovery #trauma #healing #golden joystick awards #larian studios #thank you larian #neil newbon #thank you neil newbon #survivor #trauma survivor #abuse survivor

[somethingblu3]

Thy Mercy | Father Anthony Bridge

Read on Ao3 here.

18+ minors dni.

Fandom: Casualty

Summary:

Father Anthony commands you to list out the rosary.

TW: Church Sex, Spanking, Candles Wax Play, Improper Use of a Rosary, Priest Kink, Author is not Christian, Forbidden Secret, Relationship,neil newbon - Freeform, Begging, Burns, Dom/sub, Dirty Talk, Bible Kink, No Beta, mouth spitting, Mutual Masturbation, cum, Paddle, Humiliation, lightly edited, Orgasm Delay/Denial.

Pairing: Father Anthony Bridge x female afab reader

Word Count: 1,844

Divider Credit: firefly-graphics.

Note:

I'm not Christian, but I did go to church when I was younger. It's been over a decade since I've used a rosary, so I'm not entirely sure if the beads are accurate.

“Say it,” Father Anthony ordered in the shadows. You both sat in the empty church. The only light came from the flicker of the oil candles that hung from the ceiling. You had never been in a Church alone, especially not on a cold, dark winter night like this. Your hands are sweaty as they trace over the familiar chunky beads. It was a gift given to you by your grandmother. You remember sitting at her vanity as she gifted you the beads. They were sacred, and you kept them secure under your pillow at night, not wanting to lose them, but you almost dropped them as you felt Father Anthony’s gaze lock on you in the shadows. He was watching, waiting for you to start.

He had warned you that if you stuttered or your voice faltered, he would spank you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Anthony's hands clutching the black paddle in his hands as he readied himself. Your breathing hitches as your sweaty hands clutch at the burgundy glass. Your mind goes blank, but you can feel Anthony’s hand ghost your sides, closing your eyes. You took a breath, trying to cleanse your dry lips. Anthony pushes his nails into your thighs, a sign for you to start.

“In the name of the Father, The Son, and of the Holy Spirit Amen” Your fingers move towards the first bead, feeling the contours of the Crucifix between them. He hadn’t even done anything yet, not even touched your skin. You could feel something against it, maybe his fingers or the brush of the silver of his belt as he grinded against you; it was hard to tell in the dark. It was scary not knowing what was coming next. He had blinded you before, but here you were in the Church surrounded by the darkness. You were both very evasive about your relationship. If anyone ever found out about this, Anthony would be fired and defrocked, not even that he would be ousted from the community.

He was more protective of that in the early days, but as your relationship developed, he found it harder and harder to let you go. You were his biggest sin. He couldn’t walk away from second to drinking. You lick your lips as they suddenly turn dry, and you hear him play with the silver of his belt. A warning. “Our father, who art in heaven…” He pulls back your black skirt, which he told you to wear for this evening’s service. Your breathing hitches as you press on, moving to the smaller beads. “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” “Faster,” Anthony hisses as his belt drops to the ground, and you feel his hands grab you by your waist. “The Agony in the Garden…The Soc-Sco-ugring at the-” You pause as he slides inside you. As always, you are already wet and sticky. His hand teases your clit, preparing you, and you hear him groan in delight. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You could already hear his voice in your head.

You stutter, “At the-Fuck” You are so tight, but that doesn’t stop him. His breathing increases Anthony halts you trying to search for your voice as it escapes you, and you feel the ip of Anthony’s cock ghosting over your back and cum dripping down your legs; you're already so wet. Not that you are surprised. He waits for a moment and clicks his tongue. You can’t help but feel…disappointed. “The scourging at the pillar,” you finish confidently. Anthony nods. “Good girl,” he praises you as he inserts himself into you once again. “The crowning with thorns-” you hesitate as you feel your cheeks flush increase. “And the crucifixion.” “You missed one,” Anthony scolds as he removes himself from you and then takes you over his lap. “The carrying of the cross,” he tells you as his paddle is against your skin."I'm sorry, father." You cry. "Again. Say them again," He demands as the paddle rests inches away from your skin, a lingering threat. You take a shaky breath, clutching the bread, and then you start again, but your brain has already turned to mush. "In the name--" You swallow as you feel him consider if he should spank you or not, but he doesn't. You clear your throat as you start again, your fingers finding their way to the beads. "In the name of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen." His fingers glide against your skin.

You know he won't mark it yet, but you can't help but shiver under his grip. "Our father, who art in heaven." You continue as you move on to the next bead and then the next until you reach "The Agony in the Garden..." You pause, trembling the pad inches and inches away from your skin, and as he presses further, you fumble. "Fuck-i'm so sorry, father." You sob as his paddle spanks against your skin. "I'm so sorry," you tremble. "I thought I had trained you better than this," Anthony snarled You lower your eyes, focusing down on the wooden floor, feeling nothing but shame course through you as he spanks.

"Count. Count to four," He orders, his other hand rubbing your other cheek "One" Smack "Tw-ooh" Smack "Fuck-Thr-eee" He pauses but then adds another smack. "F-ffour" you finish He smacks again. "Good girl, now let's start again from the top."

You nod and carry on repeatedly, but then, this time, you stop at the crucifixion. You close your eyes, knowing what is coming next. You tried to prepare yourself, but there isn't another smack at your ass. Instead, Father Anthony pulls away for a moment, and then he finally starts once again. "I don't think this taught you much of a lesson, did it?" He asks with an arched brow You are too stunned to speak as you feel your ass clench from the stings. He's not going to start again, is he? Usually, he would give breaks in between or at least kiss and "So why don't we try again?" "Father, please-" He ignores you as he reaches over and grabs a candle from the holder. It drips onto your skin, and you hiss, chowing down on your cheek to bear the pain.

"Good girl," he tells you as he messages your head. He watches as your body jitters. The pain is unreal, the sensation of the hot wax. He throws down the paddle, tossing it onto the wooden floor as he grips the candle in his hand, the wax melting his skin. He inserts himself inside you once again. "Let's start from the crucifixion and see if you can finally finish." You nod, shivering from the heat. You feel like you are melting, but also, at the same time, you know that Father Anthony won't hurt you. That was against his moral code, but the pain thrill was still exciting.

"Okay," You gulp as he thrusts inside you. Your dry cum drips between your legs like the candle wax between his fingers. "Okay, okay," you whimper as you get used to his thrusts as they increase in speed, still feeling the tingle of the wax drip down your lower back. "In the name of the Father, The Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen...." Thrust "Our father, who art in heaven…" Thrust. Now, the room is filled with the sound of his skin smacking against yours. His other hand finds its way to your left waist, pulling you as close as humanly possible. Your moans were escapable now. If someone were to walk in right now, it would be clear as day what the two of you were up to, and that feeling made your heart race, and you could just about see your skin turn bright red under the glow of the candle.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. The Agony in the Garden…The Scourging at the-” "Go on," He commands "The scourging at the pillar, The crowning with thorns, and the--the" You can feel yourself approaching your final orgasm as it tricks down your legs, and you roll your head back. You feel Anthony's hand in your hair as he croons your neck to look at you. He pants and spits in your mouth, his chin covered in drool. He stops trapping your hand clutched with the beads firmly.

"Hold on-" He commands as he takes the warm beads from your hands. "Turn around and face me," He commands," and he does You shiver as you finally meet his gaze. He's tired but happy as a small smirk appears at the corner of his lips. Forecebilly he takes the rosary from your hands and shoves them inside your sticky pussy. "Father," You gasp as you feel the beads between your legs. He chuckles darkly "You are such a good girl," he tells you, stroking your hair. "You're doing the Lord's work," he mumbles the sensation. Of the beads rocking between your legs is something else. The small cross rubs against the end of your pussy, edging you even closer and closer without him even touching you. You watch him as he takes his dick in his hand, proud of himself as he watches you stutter and moan, grabbing onto one of the pews. "Let yourself go, love," he instructs as he quickens the pace of his hand on his dick.

You nod, and your eyes roll back, your breathing hitching. You spot him as cum dribbles down from the head of his cock onto his robes. Your hand fiddles for the beads, and you begin rolling them against yourself. God, it was shameful, especially with how much they meant to you, but you knew after this, they would be covered in your seed, in your wetness, and you would give it to him as a gift, perhaps as a birthday present, so that he would always. Be near you. You grin at that thought.

A subtle reminder. "Now, what comes after the crucifixion, my love?" He urges as he wipes his cum against his robes "The Resurrection," you pant. You knew that wasn't all of the stages, but for now, it was the most you could get through without faltering, and you felt proud of yourself as a smile plucked at his lips. Once you finish, you both orgasm against each other, his seed mixed with your wetness. He throws the candle stick into the trash and licks his finger with your mixed juices, but his robe is still a mess. You are too weak to speak, and then he catches you as you are about to collapse onto the floor. "I want to treasure this forever." He pants as he rushes towards you, shoving your hair behind your ear, and kisses your neck as your eyes drift close. "This is heaven...". You lower your head against his neck, and you catch your breath. This man will be the death of you.

#casulty #neil newbon #father anthony bridge #father anthony bridge x reader #fanfiction #neil newbon smut #anthony bridge #casualty fanfic #bbc Casualty #ao3 cross post #neil newbon x reader #neil newbon fanfiction

[riseatlantisss]

The end we start from

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3

Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.

TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood

A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.

Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.

Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.

You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.

“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”

You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”

“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”

You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.

“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.

“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.

“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”

Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.

“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”

His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.

“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.

“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.

Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.

He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.

But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.

Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.

He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.

You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.

“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.

He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.

You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.

Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.

Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.

Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.

“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x oc #astarion fanfic #astarion imagine #astarion x female reader #astarion fluff #astarion smut #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #baldur's gate iii #astarion x you #larian studios #neil newbon #baldur's gate #bg3 fluff #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers #astarion x y/n #astarion fic

[angelltheninth]

Astarion Melting when You Praise Him

He never knew he had a praise kink. Astarion was always the one doing the praising, it came quite easy to him. With his handsome face and skilled tongue he could walk himself out of any situation and of course make you come undone just from whispering sweet words against your pussy. There was no way he could have expected that it would be turned against him.

Astarion was very confident that he could make you come before your words got to him. But one look at him and it was more then obvious that he was hearing everything you were saying. Focusing on the sight of you on top of him, or the squelching sounds your pussy made every times your hips met was no longer enough to distract him. Not even the taste of your blood could keep the blush off his face and ears.

Desperately he tried to put on a brave face, to praise you back, tell you how good you feel around him. But you know it, you know you feel good around him because his cock was made to be inside you. You cradle his cheek as you lean in close to him, lips inches apart and tell him you're waiting for it, you're waiting to feel his cum flow inside of you. There's so much isn't there? It's making his cock pulse with need. He has what you need and you want him to give it, he wants to give it because Astarion is such a good boy for you.

Dividers made by: @cafekitsune

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion imagine #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion x you #bg3 fic #astarion fic #neil newbon #astarion x oc #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion x fem reader

[justporo]

Who's the goose... (2)

...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!

Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Still stupid

Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)

Wordcount: 5k

~~~

The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.

Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.

The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.

Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.

You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.

You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.

Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.

Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.

Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.

You had started stroking him again.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”

“Honk!?”

“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”

“Honk!”

“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.

Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.

And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.

But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.

You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.

The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.

“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.

Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.

Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.

You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.

Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.

“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.

At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.

You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”

In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.

The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.

Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.

At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.

“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.

“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.

“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.

The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.

And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.

Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.

He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.

Was he… was he trying to fly?

The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.

Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.

“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.

Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.

“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.

So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.

At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.

Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.

The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.

The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.

Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.

The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.

Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.

You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.

The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.

And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.

The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.

You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.

He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.

The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.

“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.

The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.

You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.

He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.

“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.

The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.

“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.

You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.

After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.

He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.

The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.

“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.

“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.

“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.

“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.

“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.

“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.

A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.

“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.

“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.

The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”

Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.

“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.

You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.

You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!

When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.

You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.

You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?

You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.

Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.

Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.

On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.

It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.

Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.

Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.

Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.

The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.

The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.

Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.

“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.

The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.

He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.

Then absolute chaos broke out.

You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.

Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.

The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.

Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.

Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.

The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.

“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.

“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.

That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.

You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.

When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.

The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.

You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.

“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.

And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.

You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.

“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.

You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.

You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.

“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.

“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.

“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.

And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.

Tag list:

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#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #tav #bg3 #goosetarion #neil newbon #halsin #bg3 companions #wyll #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #jaheira #karlach #gale #gale of waterdeep #goostarion

[weedburglar]

INTRODUCTION

* Hey yall! My name is Mason but you can also call me Mace

* He/Him

* Libra

* INFP

* trans ftm

* autistic :)

* Right now im hyperfixated on Baldurs Gate 3

* My favorite YouTubers are Supermega, Cold Ones, Papa Meat, and Brittany Broski

* Music wise I’m into Joji, Ozzy Osbourne, ICP, Matt Watson, Korn, and Sleep Token

* I cosplay!

* I love to sing it’s such a passion of mine and wish to do something with music in college

* My favorite author/artist is Junji Ito

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FANFICS

I also cross post on ao3 (weedburglar)

People I write for are:

Matt Stone

Joe Cooper and Doug Remer (BASEketball)

Joe Young and Dave the lighting guy (Orgazmo)

Kyle Broflovski (South Park post covid)

Astarion and Gale (Baldurs Gate 3)

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Things I will write about:

I’ll really only write x readers but for bg3 if tav is asked for I’ll do it

Smut/BDSM (majority of my work will be this)

Angst

Fluff

Hurt/Comfort

Legal age gaps (ex: 25 and 50)

Different AU’s

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I’ll also write about triggering topics such as:

Drugs/Alcohol

Mental health

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TRIGGER WARNING

I will NOT write about:

Pregnancy

CNC

Rape

DDLG/B

Pedophilia

Racism

Homophobia/Transphobia

Bestiality

Sexual assault/harassment

Suicide/suicidal ideation/thoughts

Self harm

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Thank you for reading! I take requests and I’ll answer any other questions you have!

#baseketball #doug remer #joe cooper #matt stone #south park #trey and matt #trey parker #introduction #ask #fanfic #fanfiction #neil newbon #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x tav #astarion x you #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #matt stone x reader #doug remer x reader #joe cooper x reader #trey parker x reader #dave the lighting guy #joe young #gale baldurs gate 3