love never leaves love is the leaves

alchemy // 20s // I write // 18+ MDNI// multi fandom //

[windssong]

Wrote my very first Hucklerobby fic! Pure smut lol

https://archiveofourown.org/works/87041706

[puppiegracie]

hucklerobby looking at each other // s1 vs s2

[sunriseblvdd]

It's so funny to me how oblivious whitaker is to his weird bond with robby. I really do think he doesn't realize it. like everyone else can see the clear favoritism, but when people point it out, he deliberately denies it and is like "he treats me like any other resident what are you talking about" like no....he gave you his house keys....you're living in his house.

[huckleberryden]

happy pride pitt nation

(redraw by me)

[helvyeah1]

fresh cuts with robby

[windssong]

Hucklerobby Nation is there a discord server I could join

[itkitay]

[denise-elviras]

''what if my writing isn't good eno--'' what if it's a reflection of your soul. what if it has a place in this world. what if you write it anyway

[windssong]

Hi! I just wanted to say I LOVE your Astarion fanfics! You write angst and hurt/comfort soo well! The atmosphere is so vivid and you capture Astarion very well. I also loved the mini adventure that he and Tav/Reader go on in the mushroom one. It really feels like it’s apart of the game. 🥰

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to say this and read my work this was so sweet!

And I’m glad it felt like apart of the game, that’s my favorite stuff to write. Fun adventure that feels apart of the main story.

[mournfulroses]

Anaïs Nin, from a letter to Joaquin Nin, featured in Reunited: The Correspondence of Anais and Joaquin Nin, 1933-1940

[windssong]

A Long Way To Mushrooms // Astarion x gnTav

summary: Astarion doesn’t quite understand why you would go as far as to jump into some monsters hole for someone like him.

word count: 2k+

tags/warnings: fluff, brief angst, comfort, action

authors note: I will always find a way to shove in a lord of the rings reference lol Enjoy!

—

It was while in the Underdark that Astarion stumbled upon a memory he’d thought he lost forever.

“And if you happen to come across any Weeping Mushrooms, you’re either dead or soon will be.” Blurg, a trader stationed in the Mytholod Colony, warned. He handed over the enchanted ring, pressing it into the palm of your hand. “So run. Don't try to pick them.”

You closed your fingers over the ring. “Never heard of them. Are they rare?”

Astarion opened his mouth to speak, but the member of The Society of Brilliance was quicker.

“Rare?” He laughed. “Far from it. There's frankly too many of them. They’re simply impossible to get a hold of. Thanks to the Bulettes.”

“They eat mushrooms?”

“Only the Weeping ones. They take the teardrop shaped fungi from the surface all the way down into their burrows. Nasty creatures.” He said.

You stashed the glowing jewelry into your personal satchel and put the rest of the camp supplies you purchased in the large bag. The ring would allow you to see into the darkest of places, and in The Underdark, you needed all the special items you could get.

“Sounds like a pain.” You said.

“It is. I’ll get my hands on some one day. But not at the expense of my life.” The mushroom trader glanced at Astarion, then back at you. He pressed on a smile. “Happy discovering.”

With that successful exchange over and supplies secured, you turned to head back to your champions who were setting up at the new campsite.

Astarion was too absorbed in his thoughts to follow.

The strain in his face turned from a quiet curiosity to pure aching. His hands fell to his side, skin taut across his fingers. “Shit.” He cursed under his breath.

There was a moment of silence before he let out a sharp scoff. “Of course it’s gone.” He shook his head, hands finding his hips. “I can’t have anything.”

You tilted your head. “What’s gone?”

“Huh?” He stared blankly at the ground before coming to his senses. “Oh, nothing. Just some pesky memory floating around.” He frowned. “Can’t seem to catch it.”

You stepped closer. “Do you need help catching it?”

The sweet and genuine smile plastered across your face caught him off guard. “No… Not unless you want to be devoured by some dark creature.”

You recalled how he sank his teeth into your soft flesh the night before, cradling your life in his hands. Your heart fluttered. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Astarion licked his lips, eyes lingering on your pulsating neck. “And not the last, I hope.” He grinned.

“Of course no-” You shut your mouth, cheeks heating up underneath his gaze. All he had to do was look at you with those ruby eyes and your insides were eager to turn themselves into knots.

He leaned in closer. “I’m glad to hear it.” The words swam in the air, perfectly constructed for you.

Then, the knots in your stomach came undone.

There was a twinkle in the red that didn’t look right. His eyes were holding up a smile you found to be empty. They were fighting a battle beneath a carefully curated facade. You searched a blank canvas waiting for a drop of paint to return.

He froze. “What? What are you looking for?”

Astarion ran through every scenario in his head. He didn’t know whether you were trying to figure him out or already had. All his plans would fall to ruin if you did.

“Nothing.” You stammered.

It was unconvincing, but he was thankful for it.

You cleared your throat, shifting the weight of the bag on to your back. “Come on. We’ve got everything we need. Let’s head back.”

“Right.” He trailed behind you and watched. Watched as you held your head high passed the Myconids, then swing low once you were out of sight.

The walk back was silent, save for the booming heart of The Underdark beating underneath your every step.

You stole a quick glance back at the rogue. Some days, you saw someone as hard as stone. Other times, he was as see through as the wind. You couldn’t decide what you were seeing right now.

The ground continued to rumble beneath you. Groans and eerie noises echoed across the landscape.

When he caught you staring, you turned away.

You were a mile from camp when he spotted a single Weeping Mushroom poking its head out from a pile of dirt off to the side of the path.

You noticed the lack of footsteps behind you and turned around. “What is it?”

“I remember.”

You followed his line of sight. The mushroom certainly lived up to its name. The top of its body was shaped like a teardrop. It glistened with a shiny, wet top, as if it were crying. The entire fungi glowed a soft blue and white. It was much smaller than you thought given that the large creatures that roamed here ate them as one of their main sources of food. Apparently they came in many sizes.

Astarion said it again. “I remember now.” He didn’t fight the soft smile spreading on his face. “I used to eat these during my time as a Magistrate.” It was like he was his old self for a moment. “They tasted as sweet as a berry. Even sweeter.”

You folded your arms, listening attentively.

He was inching closer to the fungi without noticing. “I wasn’t well liked by the citizens of Baldur's Gate, understandably so, which meant less frequent trips to the market. So, it was always a good day if I could find some.” His hand hovered over the glowing teardrop. “I can’t believe I forgot such a silly little thing.”

Before his fingers could grasp it, the ground shook with a sudden jolt and the Weeping Mushroom tumbled down along with all the dirt. Astarion jumped back before he was taken down into the gaping hole with it.

You both peeked your heads over the ledge.

Astarion coiled back, nose turned away. “Whatever is down there can keep it.” He brushed off the dust and dirt covering his armor.

“Do you think it’s okay?” You quipped.

Astarion ran a hand down his face. “Now your heart’s bleeding over a mushroom?” He pointed down the hole. “A mushroom?”

“You’re the one that reached for it.” You rolled your eyes, pushing your bag into his arms. “Here. Take this.” Your hands fished for the items you were going to need for this detour.

“What are you doing?”

The ground shook again, this time enough to have you gripping Astarions arms for support. You wore a shy grin. Astarions didn’t know if he wanted to shove you away or bring you in closer. When it settled down, you continued going through your things.

Astarion watched as you pulled out a potion of Feather Fall and Flying from your bag. “You’re not seriously doing what I think you’re doing?”

The glass bottle was cool to the touch. You took the cap off. “Oh, I am.”

You couldn’t smell anything except for the foul odor simmering from the burrow you were about to jump into.

There was an icy coldness to his tone. He tapped his foot back and forth against the ground. “This is a waste of time. And resources.”

“We'll survive.” You responded passively.

He pursed his lips. “According to that trader, we won’t. Certainly, not down there against that foul beast.”

Taking the bottle away from your mouth, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “You didn’t listen to him in the first place when he asked us not to go anywhere near them.”

Astarion took a moment to reflect before letting out a sigh. “Point taken.”

You grinned then downed the entire bottle at once. Each potion would last only a few minutes, which gave you plenty of time to get down there, grab the mushroom and fly back up with it in hand.

The darkness below beckoned you to follow it. No matter how far you looked, you couldn’t see where it ended. “Oh! Almost forgot.” You rummaged through the small satchel around your torso.

You pulled the enchanted ring out, slipping it onto your finger. As soon as you put it on, you could see through the overwhelming darkness. A blue light shined at the bottom of the hole.

“It looks ridiculous.” Astarion said.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I quite like it.” You flipped your hand back and forth, examining the glowing jewelry.

“Of course you do. You have dreadful taste. Except for me, of course.”

Before you could jab back in response, a piercing roar echoed from the large crater. It rocked the ground again, nearly sending both of you onto your backs. It stopped after a few seconds and The Underdark let out a deep sigh.

Astarion clasped his hands together. “So, having any second thoughts now?”

Before plunging into the black abyss, you turned to him. “No. If it brings back a fond memory for you, it’s worth it.”

Not much shocked Astarion anymore. He’d seen worse than what they'd experienced on this journey so far. Worse things had been done to him. He was used to it.

But, he was not used to this.

Those words stuck in his mind. He couldn’t get them out, no matter how hard he tried to remind himself this relationship wasn’t genuine. Just a means to an end. To keep him safe.

Wasn’t it?

Then, why was he so petrified watching as your feet stepped over that ledge?

You were gone before he could give you a proper response.

The air circled your body protectively as you fell. The pungent smell was almost overwhelming. It took everything in you not to let loose the contents of your stomach all over yourself. It was less than a minute later when you reached the bottom. Your feet hit the dirt. You could only make out 40ft in front of you with the arcane jewel.

A disquieting silence filled the networking systems of tunnels. The glowing mushroom was a shining light in the pitch black cavern. You picked up the small fungi, holding it in the palm of your hand.

Astarions voice echoed from above. “Alright, you can come back up now. As amusing as it sounds, I don’t really feel like watching you be eaten alive today.”

Not wanting to make a sound and attract the Bulettes attention, you pulled out the potion of Flying and drank it in full. The magic raced through your veins. You could feel your feet levitating in the air.

You could see his white hair against the rocky backdrop. His face was somewhere in between awe and the rest lost in shadow.

Whether it was awed by your audacity or your complete and utter stupidity, you didn’t know.

“Look out!”

Your body was slammed into a wall of rock before you realized you were even hit.

White hot agony coursed through every nerve. The shock reverberated in your chest. Your ribs cracked like two enemy swords clashing together. Muscles spasmed underneath intense pressure. Your head throbbed, it was trying to keep itself above the rising tide. Your vision was blurred, you could barely make out the wall of dirt coming your way.

Instinctively, you reached for your sword behind your back, but it was nowhere to be found. It was knocked off when the creature body slammed you.

The adrenaline rushing through you was practically your friend at this point. It greeted you with a burst of fire in your lungs.

Right before the monstrosity bared its fury out from the ground, you managed to roll away. The roll nearly knocked the breath out of you, but you kept focus, dodging another hit from the Burette.

“Damn you!” Astarions voice was growing closer.

Why did it sound so close?

Then you saw it.

A figure falling from the hole above. Astarion landed with a rough thud on top of the creature before it could burrow back underground. His daggers met the weak spot on the back of its neck. The creature roared in pain, flinging Astarion off its back. It disappeared into the dirt.

Astarion hit the floor a few feet away from you. He rubbed at his side, eyes shut tightly. “I am going to kill you.” He seethed through his teeth.

He took a deep breath. “After we get out of here.”

You stood on wobbling legs. The pain had rattled your entire system. You were seeing multiple Astarions sitting before you.

“I… l got the…” you swallowed. You felt blood run down your throat. When you tried speaking again, only a weak whimper came out.

Astarion made his way towards you, still wincing from the fall he had without using any magic. “Darling.” He put an arm around you, holding you up. “Try to breathe, okay?”

You nodded, sucking in a sharp breath. “Sword. My… sword.” You managed.

Astarion scanned the dark and humid area. Your sword was all the way across the other side, shimmering next to a cluster of hidden Weeping Mushrooms. There must have been hundreds of the fungi trapped within this hole. Maybe even more in the tunnels surrounding all sides.

He set you against the rocky wall. His fingers lingered over your skin. They were cool against your burning flesh and brushed lightly over your bloody knuckles. “Stay here.” He said.

His thumb found a small cut over your chin. He gently wiped a bead of blood away. You couldn’t tell if your heart was still racing from the adrenaline or his touch.

The rogue picked his steps carefully. He was light on his feet, so he was able to make it to the other side before it broke the surface.

Astarion retrieved your Radiant infused blade, shoving it into the Brulettes eye before it could hit him. It shrieked in pain, retreating again.

By the time he was back by your side, your vision was coming back to you, and you could stand on your own.

He handed you your weapon. “Now take us out of this shithole before it comes back.”

You nodded, leading him to the center of the cave system. Right in the middle was the opening in the ceiling.

He wrapped his arms around you, trying his best to cause as little pain as possible to your injuries.You stared up at the giant hole above you, remembering the potion you had taken. And how long it actually lasted.

“Astarion?”

His eyes were shut tight. He hugged your body, ready to feel his body levitate out of here.

You poked his cheek. “Astarion.”

“What!?”

“It wore off.”

“Oh.”

Echoes of The Underdark filled the spacious cavern.

Astarion gritted his teeth, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Well, this wasn’t the way I expected to go out.”

“No, we’ll get through thi-”

The rumbling started again. Before you could tell where the Bulette was coming from, the floor crumbled beneath you, its jaws opened wide at your feet and it swallowed both you and Astarion whole.

There was too much to process.

Astarions screaming in your ear. The wet inside of the Bulettes mouth. The feeling of weightlessness as it tunneled up to the surface of the Underdark.

But, in the thick of the chaos, you were able to find a moment of clarity. You slammed your sword upwards and sliced through the Bulettes skull from the inside. It took a couple of hits before you could see a crack of light through the side of its head. The monster thrashed around in pain and you lost the blade.

With an empty hand, you found Astarions and squeezed it tightly. He eventually squeezed back.

Good. He would be conscious for this part.

With one final trick in your arsenal, you pulled out a smoke powered bomb from your satchel.

With little time left before it burrowed back down to its home and swallowed you whole, you threw the grenade down its throat and into its stomach.

There was a bright flash, then a wall of fire poured over you as the creature's body blew out from all sides.

Astarion and you were flung out of the creature's hanging jaw, falling back onto the hard surface below.

Blood rained down like a fierce crimson storm. It stuck to your skin and armor, wherever it landed. There was no place on your body where you weren’t covered in it.

The only part of the Bulette that remained was the bottom half of its body. It laid across the pathway, blocking the road back to your campsite.

It took a few minutes to compose yourselves, but soon, you were standing over the burnt carcass, bruised, bloody yet still put together.

Astarion spit on the ground. He turned towards you in a blaze of fury. “All of this over a mushroom!? We could’ve died. You could’ve-”

Your arm was already outstretched towards him. He stopped, looking at your closed fist. As you opened your fingers, the Weeping Mushroom greeted the air with its soft light. It was covered in dirt and speaks of the Bulettes blood.

“Sorry about all that. But I’m sure we can wash it off back at camp.”

Your face lit up with a bright smile. It was the only light Astarion found in this god awful place.

Over his 200 years of existence, he’d seen countless pretty faces. But, seeing you here, with your arm outstretched in kindness and body caked in guts and dirt, he realized he’d never seen anything as beautiful as you looked right now.

[windssong]

if it’s any comfort to you // Astarion x gnTav

summary: Sometimes, a simple gesture is enough to soothe a landslide.

word count: 1k+

tags: angst, fluff, hurt comfort

authors note: just a little something I wrote at 3 am lol

—

The moment his cloak caught on an arrow protruding from a dead body, you knew you were unraveling.

The body was an Absolute follower. You didn’t know him. Never even spoke to him. Never knew his name. But his blood was on Astarions clothes now. The arrow ripped a hole in the black cloak. Crimson soaked up the fabric, desperate to stitch it back together in its making.

You didn’t know how long you stood there staring at frozen eyes and his tattered clothing. It could’ve been forever for all you knew. Funny, that forever never set those aching bones of yours right, or stopped your heart from caving in at the mere glance of a dead man on the floor.

“I never thought I’d see the day when someone won a staring contest against a corpse.” Astarion tapped his boot on the ground, avoiding the pile of blood around them. “You always manage to do the impossible.” His eyes met yours with a warm smile.

The blood splattered across his face wasn’t his, but that didn’t stop your mind from spiraling into a place where that was a possibility.

Astarion looked at the arrow piercing his cloak. “They did me a favor. Not the prettiest of things.”

He was about to rip the fabric off the body when you knelt to the ground beside him, carefully removing it off the arrow's head.

You said nothing, wanting to avoid his gaze at all cost. All you saw was two dead bodies before you. Astarions light feet followed you up the Moonrise Tower’s steps.

“Are you…” He trailed off, searching for words he wasn’t used to saying. “Alright? Don’t tell me he was a friend of yours, or this will have all been very awkward.”

“No. I don't know him.” You bit the inside of your lip. Let’s move. We need to speak to Jaheira. Then we can get to the gate and Cazador much quicker.”

He nodded. Although you were sure he could hear your heart practically beating out of its chest, demanding a way out even if it had to break bone and skin.

It didn’t want this prison anymore. Bleeding for all those you couldn’t save, and for the ones you still had yet to save.

You turned to his face. A thousand stars twinkled in the corner of his red eyes. A thousand possibilities. Of course, even the undead could die. And that terrified you.

He was counting on you. They were all counting on you.

Even with Ketherics body rotting away, and his Netherstone in hand, you felt cornered. The walls were pressing in. Astarions fingers were slipping from your grasps as they came in closer, crushing him.

A panic attack waved at you from the bottom of a cliff. You were tittering on that edge.

Then, cold hands found yours. Astarion picked up on your shaking body and racing heart beat. He pulled you into a corner, hidden behind a pillar of stone, away from everyone and the aftermath of the Moonrise Tower battle.

You looked up, eyes glistening. Astarion held them. You wondered if he’d ever wipe your tears away one day.

You got your answer when his thumb traced the teardrop falling down your cheek. He stopped it right before it fell to the floor. You looked down at the blood on your boots, thinking of that man’s blood on his cloak.

“Now, we can’t be doing this.” He spoke softly. His thumb remained on your wet skin. The tears mixed with the grime and blood on your face. “You have a job to do.”

“I can’t…” Your voice was as delicate as butterfly wings. “I can’t…”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “You can't do what? Tell them you beat a God and freed these lands? Sounds easy to me.”

There was no more room in your eyes to hold back the dam. Water came raining down, in quiet sobs. “I can’t lose you.” It slipped from your mouth as easily as pixie dust through your hands.

Astarions eyes broke wide open. His mouth twisting in different shapes, not knowing what to say.

That pool of water boiling inside you flowed over. You reached for the end of his cloak, pointing at the tear. “I gave you this, and now it’s all ruined. I just hate to see it all ruined.”

Your unraveling was a slow descent. All the pressure toppled on top of you the moment you locked eyes with a dead stranger. A stranger whose face formed into friends, champions, and lastly your new lover.

Then there was Astarion. Standing as petrified as a stone. He was always so loose, ready to weave himself in and out of any conversation. But there was no way out of this one.

He wanted to kiss you, hold you, take you, yell at you, curse you and leave you all at once.

How dare you start to falter?

He had a monster to kill and be free of. There was no time for weakness.

How dare you show him love?

He was beginning to fall to its knees. There was nothing but time for weakness.

He remembered taking your hand in his, telling you he wanted this. You showed him that there was more to whatever the two of you had than using his body and shoving down his wants and needs. There was something here, and it terrified him.

But, there was a common thread that tied you together that dawned on him. You were scared too. Scared of what this all meant, scared of losing it and losing him.

An overwhelming gush of warmth rushed through him. It was hard not to turn his head in shame and mock it. Like he would always do before.

But he didn’t.

No, he would fight for this.

A small grin found his lips. “Ah, yes. How could I forget?” His fingers brushed over the torn fabric in both your hands. “You found this horrid thing in a Goblin's chest. Didn’t even think twice about tossing it to me.” He paused, remembering that simple yet kind gesture. “Let’s switch.”

Your eyes narrowed, blinking rapidly. “What?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. Then he started taking off his cloak. “You heard me.”

You sighed, too tired to fight or understand his reasoning. “Okay.”

The two of you switched cloaks, now each wearing the others.

Astarion took a step back, taking all of you in. “Oh, that color does suit you far better than me, my dear.”

You wiped at drying tears, letting yourself laugh. “You just wanted an excuse to wear something different, didn’t you?”

“Well, I can't lie my way out of that one.” He smiled, head cocked to the side.

You took a deep breath, coming back to your senses. “Thank you. I lost myself for a moment there. Sometimes… it’s all just too much.” Your face settled back into its stoic state.

They needed your leadership and strength, and you’d give it to them. You could handle the heavy weight of a torn cloak and blood stains. Whatever he didn’t have to carry, was a win for you. He carried quite enough.

Astarion crumbled underneath your gaze. He wondered how you did it. How you came back stronger, each and every time.

He was determined to find out.

He smiled wide. “Come on. I want to hear you describe killing Kethric in every excruciating detail possible. It’ll be fun.”

You laughed, stepping out from the corner and into the large room where Harper’s tended to the dead.

Astarion walked by her side, hand brushing against her own occasionally. He didn’t know what came over him. They were just words. Words didn’t always mean something. Especially coming from him. But these did.

“If it brings you any comfort, I wouldn’t want to lose you either.” He whispered in your ear.

[rahuratna]

I just woke up and saw this on my dash. What a lovely way to start the day. Your writing is like little dewdrops on a leaf, each phrase trapping a perfect portrait within. It's vivid, melodic and your voice as a writer comes through so clearly.

What you captured here is tenderness, but also strength. I feel like the bravery and vulnerability that Tav shows here is at first overwhelming to Astarion, because he's never had to face those emotions head on; he doesn't like to be confrontational about the things he and others feel.

But this is the first true connection he's had in ages, and it's a special one. By just being there for Tav and offering the kind of support only he can, he is being brave himself, in a way. He is overcoming his own weakness of avoidance. You showed that with such clarity and subtlty here.

Thank you for this lovely piece!

[windssong]

Omg I just saw this!

I look forward to your comments, they’re so thoughtful and sweet. Your writing is so beautiful thank you!

[daenerys-stormborn]

But you, my daughter, you will linger on in darkness and in doubt, as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Here you will dwell, bound to your grief, under the fading trees, until all the world is changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent.

SCENERY IN MEDIA The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers

[windssong]

To Hold The Sun // Astarion x gnTav

series summary: 5 years after the main events of Baldur’s Gate 3, you and Astarion have spent that time searching for a cure that would make it possible for him to walk in the sun again. During one of your adventures, you come across an ancient tome that promises a cure and much, much more.

Chapter 1 - And The Three Magic Words Are…

chapter summary: You are determined to do whatever it takes to make sure Astarion can feel the suns warmth once again. What you didn’t expect, was an ancient spell from an ancient book to do more than that.

words: 3k+

tags/warnings: 18+MDNI, brief smut, romance, high fantasy, canon level violence, fluff, some angst,

authors note:

This is one of my favorite ideas I’ve come up with yet. Just pure, high fantasy fun. Enjoy reading!

If you could only choose one moment to anchor yourself to, it would be right here. Shuddering underneath his dancing fingers, chasing each other's lips forever.

Astarion sucked in a gasp of sweet air, letting out a moan locked deep within his chest. He fell against your body as he came inside you. Legs tangled together underneath sheets that stuck against salty skin.

All that was left were two souls breathing heavily against one another.

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, catching his breath. You ran your hands through his white locks. You were the only person allowed to do that. It was soft falling in between your fingers. Like water in the palm of your hands, he drowned in your embrace.

Both of you had returned to the city late last night. The same city you and your companions saved years ago. You decided to find rest and say hello to some old friends at The SongFire Inn. Lakrissa had opened the Inn a few years back, along with Alfria who was also running her own bardic school.

The SongFire Inn was built near the edge of Rivington. Not too far from Wyrm’s Crossing but far enough away that you had to squint to make out its bridge from your window. For how spacious the Inn was, it still had all the comforts and furnishings of a welcoming home.

It was a nice change of scenery compared to the dingy and questionable Inns and abandoned homes you’d stayed in over the years. Although, sleeping beneath the stars is where you were most at ease.

A fireplace blazed across the room. The flames licked the humid air. Its golden light flickered across your naked bodies.

Since you had known Astarion, you had come to one simple conclusion. That there was no greater comfort than his presence. He was a tattered blanket slowly stitching itself back together. Every day, new patterns formed and colors made anew. You didn’t mind the icy air finding its way through little holes in the fabric. It kept you warm all the same.

He was still inside of you when he started laughing.

It took you a moment to gather your thoughts. Your head was still spinning from the aftermath of your orgasm. “What’s so funny?”

You could feel his smile spread against your shoulder. “Nothing darling. You just feel good. You make me feel good.”

He kissed your neck, lips drunk against your skin. “Thank you.”

His fangs ghosted over the faded marks where he first fed on you all those years ago. Then over the spot where he drank from you last night, when you ripped each other's clothes off, covered in weeks worth of grime and rain from your travels.

The pads of your fingers drew circles on his pale skin. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He grinned, peppering kisses along your collarbone. “I have absolutely no idea. It’s a mystery to me as well.” He paused above your new scar.

His shoulders tensed. You could practically feel the muscles tightening underneath his skin. You continued massaging the nape of his neck, hoping to distract him from the memory you knew he was reliving.

That memory, that fear of almost losing you 2 tendays passed, continued to stick with him. He couldn’t shake it. You knew it still bothered him, even though you had made a full recovery.

His arms tightened around you. He held you like he did then. On that frozen lake thick with snow and blood. Your blood.

The first time you heard him pray was on that cold night. It was more of a plea, to whatever god would listen. He knew it was futile, it had always been for him. But, he continued anyway, waiting for the health potion to kick in and take all your agony away.

His eyes raked over the burn mark right in the middle of your chest as it faded into and around your neck. Maybe if he stared hard enough, it would go away and everything would be okay again.

The skin around the circular mark was still inflamed and showed no signs of healing properly. He hated how painful it looked. He saw how your hands gripped the fabric over the scar, face wincing in discomfort over the past couple weeks.

The amulet left behind its imprint. The design that melted into your skin was a cluster of vines growing on top of each other. He could make out what looked to be a small dagger hidden between the overgrown plants. The thick scar tissue made it difficult to tell.

He became all too aware of his scar on his back.

You brought his lips to yours again, snapping him out of that awful memory. “Astarion.” His name rolled off your tongue in a soft whisper. You licked your lips, tasting yourself there. “I’m okay now. You know that, right? I’m not going anywhere.”

The Vampire Spawn sighed. He slipped out of you, sitting up against the wooden headboard. You missed the fullness of him as he left you empty.

“I do.” He glared at your scar. “Mostly. Doesn’t mean the thought of you choking on your blood doesn’t haunt every corner of my mind.” His face was cloaked in pain, the memory still so fresh.

It was a little over 6 tendays ago when Gale sent you that fateful letter and enchanted amulet that led you to your near doom.

After 5 years of research, The Wizard of Waterdeep had finally uncovered a potential lead for a cure. One that would let Vampires walk in the sun again. And potentially, cure Vampirism as a whole.

What he had discovered was an amulet. One that apparently belonged to one of the very first Vampires. Before her untimely death, Maeve wrote a book titled, To Hold The Sun. It was said to be a collection of spells she created herself in a desperate attempt to walk in the sun again.

After Maeve’s mysterious death, her remains, amulet, book all disappeared. Even her Vampiric Castle, Crimsons Haven, said to be the size of a small country, was all lost to the ever forward momentum of time. No one knew whose hands or what cavern held them. Or where her kingdom had fallen to ruin. Or if they and Maeve even existed in the first place.

That was, until Gale came across the amulet himself while adventuring. His research indicated that the lost tome could be found using the amulet as some sort of compass. Whoever wore the priceless artifact was guided to where the book rested.

Astarion didn’t like the styling of the necklace. Said it was, “too old-fashioned,” for his tastes. So, after teasing him about his sense of fashion, it was up to you to wear it. The circular material was warm against your skin. It glowed a soft yellow. A mini sun in the palm of your hands.

With the enchanted item and another adventure underway, the two of you let the amulet guide you onward.

It was a long shot.

You knew that. Astarion knew that.

Years spent searching countless books, poems and glyphs, investigating every town, cavern, and hideout on The Sword Coast had led to absolutely nothing. You couldn’t even find a temporary spell that worked. Just empty chests and promises.

But, even with all those disappointments and hiding in the dark away from the light, Astarion still smiled as if he already found the cure. He was free and finally able to forge his own path, without a puppet master's strings forcing him to do his bidding.

It was the happiest you’d ever been, on this journey with him. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel jaded after turning over nearly every root and stone in Faerun, only to find nothing but dirt and bones.

But this new piece of information changed things. It gave you, and most importantly Astarion, hope again. No matter how much of a long shot it seemed to be, you would take it. Even if it hurt you.

The amulet led to a cave only accessible across a frozen lake. That night, a blizzard raged. It was so cold, your eyelids refused to shut and fingers and toes went numb.

With an Elixir of Ice Resistance, the potion helped you travel that extra mile over the icy tundra. Astarion complained about the aftertaste and your coat that was apparently, in his words, “warmer than his.” You reminded him he was a Vampire and wore the Hoarfrost Boots Wyll gifted him when they all had reunited. Meanwhile, it took your full concentration not to slip and fall on the ice. Astarion walked past you when you did eventually fall over.

When you finally made your way over the treacherous landscape, you reached a shallow cave, finding To Hold The Sun nestled in the arms of a dead bandit. By the look of the body, it was in a frozen state of decay. It was difficult to tell how long it’d been there. Days, weeks, years, his body was forever trapped in the freezing temperature.

Maeve’s amulet burned like a beacon of light against your chest as you inched closer to the tome. There was no sign of damage on the book. It looked as brand new as a fresh plate of armor or newly forged steel. You would’ve never guessed it was centuries old.

After years of traveling and searching, you finally found something of substance. The relief was palpable. You could see it on Astarions face too. Eyes full of wonder. You didn’t want that flicker of hope to leave him ever again.

This was it.

You were unaware of the dark magic radiating off the tome until you held it in your hands. Astarion was too late to notice to stop you in time.

Darkness enveloped you, covering whatever it touched. The ball of shadow circled you in a violent rush of energy. Faces made up of a vine like substance flashed before you. Dead creatures from the past. They looked like Vampires. The red eyes told you were right.

Then, a blaze of heat moved through your chest. The amulet started melting into your skin, leaving behind its ancient mark. It paralyzed your entire body, but you could still use your vocal cords. The scream that ripped passed your lungs cut through Astarion in ways he’d never been cut before.

He tried desperately to reach you, but the darkness sent him flying back onto the icy lake. But that would not deter him. He tried again and again and was met with the same fate.

The thin layer of ice began to crack. Red tentacles moved their bodies up through the wedges. Those sinister vines bubbled up from underneath, topping the surface. They moved along the cracks like trees in the wind.

Eventually, the magic was sucked back into the book, and you were left on the cold ground, suffocating on blood. It was as if the necklace entered your body just to choke you from the inside out. If it wasn’t for the potion you had left in your bag, you would’ve been dead.

When you picked up the book again, you used part of your coat to store it into your bag. Astarion refused to ever let your skin touch that cursed tome again. He wanted to leave it there or destroy it himself for what it did to you. But, you couldn’t risk another missed opportunity. So, to his dismay, you took it.

You understood his worry. The mark just below your neck still stung with a fiery grip. The closest thing you could describe the feeling too was Karlachs burning hands. But even that felt more like a warm touch versus the searing pain of the scar.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Your fingers found his own, eyes softening. “I put myself at risk, and that wasn’t fair to you. And me.”

Astarion shook his head, meeting your gentle gaze. He squeezed your hand, testing to see whether you were really there or not. He paused, choosing his next words with care. “I… I think we should stop looking for a cure.”

The air exited the room and your lungs. “I don’t understand.” You said.

“You will. Someday.” Astarion slid out of the large bed, hand outstretched towards you.

You frowned. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. And what you want. I thought you wanted this?” You took his hand anyway.

“What I want is you. Right here.” He kissed each knuckle for every word. “Safe. With me. That’s more than enough for me.”

You took your hand away, holding his face with your palms. “But you could have the sun?”

The flames illuminated your bodies in a golden glow as you held each other.

Astarion brushed his forehead against your own. His red eyes matched the embers. “Are you trying to make me say, “you’re all the sun I need,” or whatever? Because if you are, that’s petty vanity I wouldn't even stoop myself so low for. I’m impressed.”

You let out a short laugh, pushing him away playfully. “You wish.”

He grinned, catching you in his arms. “Come on now. Let’s get cleaned up.” Astarion led you into the bath connected to the large bedroom Lakrissa let you rent for free. You made sure to leave some coin behind anyway.

After an hour or so in the water, you returned to bed in comfortable clothing.

Astarion fell asleep in your arms. You, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep. You kept replaying the previous conversation over and over again in your head.

Did he really want to stop? Every day, you two put your lives in danger in pursuit of this cure. Why was this incident any different? Why was this the breaking point?

Your fingers brushed against his skin as you watched him sleep. He looked so at peace.

You wanted to give this gift. To walk towards the light without the fear of burning away.

The more selfish part of yourself thought of your old body withering away as he stood there, helpless and ageless.

So, you quietly slipped out of the covers and closed the door to the other room. You sat with your back against the wall, bag in hand.

Since the accident, you tried your hardest to ignore the book. You were going to deliver it to Rolan tonight, to see what he could decipher from the ancient language. His tower held information beyond even his understanding. There were answers to be found there, and Astarion was sure they’d find them eventually.

But, the book was calling to you. It had been since the moment you laid your hands on it. There was a soft whisper in the breeze on the road back to Baldur's Gate. Then another when you entered the Inn, and another one right now. An invisible string was pulling you closer and closer to the tome.

Before you could register what you were doing, the book was open in your hands. The magic stayed at bay this time. It covered each page in a sea of black smoke. The language was unrecognizable. Yet, it was obvious that each spell was written in someone’s blood.

As you flipped through the old pages, the scar on your chest burned. The pain grew worse as you went through the tome. It was almost unbearable, but you couldn’t stop. You were rolling down a cliff and you couldn’t fight gravity. That was, until it ceased as soon as you stopped on a certain page.

There was a large Castle drawn in dried blood. It took up two pages. You assumed it was Crimsons Haven. Dark vines covered the Castle like moss. It looked similar to the twisted tentacle like force that attacked you just days prior. And the pattern on Maeve’s amulet branded to your neck. The details stretched far beyond the realm of any artist's abilities. It was so real, you could dip your hand into the sketch and crawl right into the ancient Castle.

Was your hand halfway through the page?

Then, three words unknown to you, words you’ve never heard nor spoken before, left your lips.

The wind made a ghastly noise, piercing your ears. Creatures dressed in robes of red and black filled the entire room, rushing past you violently. Gathering all the willpower you could muster, you shut the book as the scar burned away at your flesh. The shrieking seemed to last for hours, but it was only a moment later when it stopped altogether.

You took your hands off your ears, surveying the surrounding room. You figured you were the only one who heard the horrible sound given Astarion had yet to come and check on you.

Everything was in its exact place, except for the book. It was gone.

You scrambled to your knees, looking everywhere for the old tome. Only a tiny, red tentacle of smoke remained reaching up from the wooden floorboards. “Shit.” You ran a hand through your hair. And just like that, your hopes of finding that cure were dashed away once again.

You pressed your lips together, trying to stop an avalanche of tears from falling on top of you. When you stumbled out of the bathroom, head low and tail between your legs, you found Astarion staring out the window.

Your blood ran cold. “What are you doing!? Get back!” Before you rushed over to cover the window, you noticed there was no sunlight shining through it.

That couldn’t be? It was still morning.

“What in the hells...” Astarion pointed frantically out the window.

As you walked closer, you saw a large shadow looming over every building as far as you could see.

The whole town was covered in a cloak of red and black smoke, and it ran for miles. All the way from Riventon, passed Baldur's Gate and to the ocean. Didn’t matter where you looked, it was caged in like a wild animal.

Astarion lifted your chin with his finger. “Up, darling.”

Your eyes broadened, taking in the brand new scenery in front of you.

A Castle was floating in the sky, blocking out the sun.

The kingdom-sized Castle was shrouded in a layer of shadow, wrapping around the structure in red and black vines. Similar to the magic guarding the book and the amulet stuck to your skin. Layers of dark and Vampiric magic swam over the ancient stone in a protective cocoon.

The strangest part wasn’t even the floating Castle on its own or sea magic swimming around it. It was the position that left you at a loss for words.

It was floating upside down. The tips of the Castle towers nearly touched the buildings below. It sailed above the landscape, one brush away from crumbling to the ground.

“Oh no.” You said, taking a step back. The realization hit you as hard as the spell did.

It was the same Castle from the ancient tome. Crimsons Haven. Down to the exact details. And now it was here, looming over the city you had saved.

“What have I done?”

Astarion held a finger up. “And what exactly do you mean by tha-” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “Your scar. It’s gone.”

Your fingers brushed over the burnt area. He was right. There was no longer a layer of thick skin there. It had healed instantly.

But now an even bigger problem remained. Thanks to you and that book. And it was looming over the entire city, ready to swallow it whole.

—

CH 2 - coming soon

[pastelpiggielol]

Sometimes the cure to writers block is to just write something else. Doesn’t matter what, just whatever comes to mind to loosen up the word gears. Sometimes you just need to put word vomit on a page to wake up the brain worms so you can get back on your WIP

[windssong]

if it’s any comfort to you // Astarion x gnTav

summary: Sometimes, a simple gesture is enough to soothe a landslide.

word count: 1k+

tags: angst, fluff, hurt comfort

authors note: just a little something I wrote at 3 am lol

—

The moment his cloak caught on an arrow protruding from a dead body, you knew you were unraveling.

The body was an Absolute follower. You didn’t know him. Never even spoke to him. Never knew his name. But his blood was on Astarions clothes now. The arrow ripped a hole in the black cloak. Crimson soaked up the fabric, desperate to stitch it back together in its making.

You didn’t know how long you stood there staring at frozen eyes and his tattered clothing. It could’ve been forever for all you knew. Funny, that forever never set those aching bones of yours right, or stopped your heart from caving in at the mere glance of a dead man on the floor.

“I never thought I’d see the day when someone won a staring contest against a corpse.” Astarion tapped his boot on the ground, avoiding the pile of blood around them. “You always manage to do the impossible.” His eyes met yours with a warm smile.

The blood splattered across his face wasn’t his, but that didn’t stop your mind from spiraling into a place where that was a possibility.

Astarion looked at the arrow piercing his cloak. “They did me a favor. Not the prettiest of things.”

He was about to rip the fabric off the body when you knelt to the ground beside him, carefully removing it off the arrow's head.

You said nothing, wanting to avoid his gaze at all cost. All you saw was two dead bodies before you. Astarions light feet followed you up the Moonrise Tower’s steps.

“Are you…” He trailed off, searching for words he wasn’t used to saying. “Alright? Don’t tell me he was a friend of yours, or this will have all been very awkward.”

“No. I don't know him.” You bit the inside of your lip. Let’s move. We need to speak to Jaheira. Then we can get to the gate and Cazador much quicker.”

He nodded. Although you were sure he could hear your heart practically beating out of its chest, demanding a way out even if it had to break bone and skin.

It didn’t want this prison anymore. Bleeding for all those you couldn’t save, and for the ones you still had yet to save.

You turned to his face. A thousand stars twinkled in the corner of his red eyes. A thousand possibilities. Of course, even the undead could die. And that terrified you.

He was counting on you. They were all counting on you.

Even with Ketherics body rotting away, and his Netherstone in hand, you felt cornered. The walls were pressing in. Astarions fingers were slipping from your grasps as they came in closer, crushing him.

A panic attack waved at you from the bottom of a cliff. You were tittering on that edge.

Then, cold hands found yours. Astarion picked up on your shaking body and racing heart beat. He pulled you into a corner, hidden behind a pillar of stone, away from everyone and the aftermath of the Moonrise Tower battle.

You looked up, eyes glistening. Astarion held them. You wondered if he’d ever wipe your tears away one day.

You got your answer when his thumb traced the teardrop falling down your cheek. He stopped it right before it fell to the floor. You looked down at the blood on your boots, thinking of that man’s blood on his cloak.

“Now, we can’t be doing this.” He spoke softly. His thumb remained on your wet skin. The tears mixed with the grime and blood on your face. “You have a job to do.”

“I can’t…” Your voice was as delicate as butterfly wings. “I can’t…”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “You can't do what? Tell them you beat a God and freed these lands? Sounds easy to me.”

There was no more room in your eyes to hold back the dam. Water came raining down, in quiet sobs. “I can’t lose you.” It slipped from your mouth as easily as pixie dust through your hands.

Astarions eyes broke wide open. His mouth twisting in different shapes, not knowing what to say.

That pool of water boiling inside you flowed over. You reached for the end of his cloak, pointing at the tear. “I gave you this, and now it’s all ruined. I just hate to see it all ruined.”

Your unraveling was a slow descent. All the pressure toppled on top of you the moment you locked eyes with a dead stranger. A stranger whose face formed into friends, champions, and lastly your new lover.

Then there was Astarion. Standing as petrified as a stone. He was always so loose, ready to weave himself in and out of any conversation. But there was no way out of this one.

He wanted to kiss you, hold you, take you, yell at you, curse you and leave you all at once.

How dare you start to falter?

He had a monster to kill and be free of. There was no time for weakness.

How dare you show him love?

He was beginning to fall to its knees. There was nothing but time for weakness.

He remembered taking your hand in his, telling you he wanted this. You showed him that there was more to whatever the two of you had than using his body and shoving down his wants and needs. There was something here, and it terrified him.

But, there was a common thread that tied you together that dawned on him. You were scared too. Scared of what this all meant, scared of losing it and losing him.

An overwhelming gush of warmth rushed through him. It was hard not to turn his head in shame and mock it. Like he would always do before.

But he didn’t.

No, he would fight for this.

A small grin found his lips. “Ah, yes. How could I forget?” His fingers brushed over the torn fabric in both your hands. “You found this horrid thing in a Goblin's chest. Didn’t even think twice about tossing it to me.” He paused, remembering that simple yet kind gesture. “Let’s switch.”

Your eyes narrowed, blinking rapidly. “What?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. Then he started taking off his cloak. “You heard me.”

You sighed, too tired to fight or understand his reasoning. “Okay.”

The two of you switched cloaks, now each wearing the others.

Astarion took a step back, taking all of you in. “Oh, that color does suit you far better than me, my dear.”

You wiped at drying tears, letting yourself laugh. “You just wanted an excuse to wear something different, didn’t you?”

“Well, I can't lie my way out of that one.” He smiled, head cocked to the side.

You took a deep breath, coming back to your senses. “Thank you. I lost myself for a moment there. Sometimes… it’s all just too much.” Your face settled back into its stoic state.

They needed your leadership and strength, and you’d give it to them. You could handle the heavy weight of a torn cloak and blood stains. Whatever he didn’t have to carry, was a win for you. He carried quite enough.

Astarion crumbled underneath your gaze. He wondered how you did it. How you came back stronger, each and every time.

He was determined to find out.

He smiled wide. “Come on. I want to hear you describe killing Kethric in every excruciating detail possible. It’ll be fun.”

You laughed, stepping out from the corner and into the large room where Harper’s tended to the dead.

Astarion walked by her side, hand brushing against her own occasionally. He didn’t know what came over him. They were just words. Words didn’t always mean something. Especially coming from him. But these did.

“If it brings you any comfort, I wouldn’t want to lose you either.” He whispered in your ear.

[autistook]

Sam's pure love for Frodo