genki-rays

[genki-rays]

the man the myth and the legend 🫣

[genki-rays]

if a character means enough to me i will truly never stop thinking about them. i just retire them into a little back room in my brain and periodically bring them out to stare at them under a little light

[genki-rays]

HI IT’S THE CHILLY ANON, first off thank you sm that fic/drabble was absolutely tasty, very delicious

secondly !! if requests are still open (I tried to scroll back on your page to double check) could I perhaps! Request another astarion x tav/reader that’s afraid of the dark ?

giving you big hugs and a glass of water ^^

notes: thank you anon I am slurping it down mwah xx if you like my work, please reblog!

words: 1.1k

rating: T

pairing: astarion x reader

He hates the Underdark. 

More than anything because it reminds him of his life before, chained into the shadows without the possibility of being free in the sun, and he hates the idea of returning to that voluntarily. But the group insisted that it was the safest path to the Shadowlands - and gods know that sounds like a barrel of laughs, too - so here he is. Trudging. 

The excursion itself was bad, with its exploding fungi and minotaurs charging from nowhere, but things got catastrophically worse when that damned Bulette had appeared. Astarion is never a fan of enemies he can’t keep an eye on at all times so that thing surfacing scared the un-life out of him, and when you called a retreat the damned group got carved into two halves: Shadowheart and Karlach headed one way, towards the wide open mushroom fields, and the two of you another - into the shadowed safety of a cave. 

And then there was a bloody rockfall. 

It closed you off from them, splitting the bloody party like fools. Both of you trapped in a tunnel, covered in dust and dirt and feeling incredibly stupid indeed.

Alone together. 

Luckily Shadowheart had used a Sending spell to let you know they were attempting to find a way out, but it might take a while. Looks like they’ll have to source some explosives from somewhere in order to clear the debris from the cavemouth. With little else to do, you stayed put.

So here the two of you are, waiting for your rescue to be sprung with no real idea of a timeline. Astarion has been pacing, complaining as loudly as he can about the situation and listening to the echo of his own gripes, but you’ve been oddly… still. Sat against the rocky wall with a torch gripped so tightly in your hands that it’s changing the colour of your knuckles. The torch which, now he comes to think of it, you haven’t let go of since you climbed down that ridiculous ladder into this wretched place.

“We should have risked the damned mountain pass is all I’m saying. A handful of githyanki are hardly the worst choice when you compare them to all this bloody… gloom. I mean gods, I’ve not seen the sun in two hundred years and now we are actively choosing to hide from it. What’s the point of this damned tadpole if I’m hundreds of feet beneath the earth?!”

“Can you not?” you say, voice so quiet he almost misses it. For a moment, Astarion pause, turning with his whole torso to look at you. He inspects you through narrowed eyes.

“You’re the one who led us down here,” he sniffs, as if this justifies his bitching.

“Yes, because the group voted. Everyone but the two of us and Lae’zel chose Underdark.”

Your eyes don’t meet his when you speak. They’re locked solidly on the flame in front of you, a flame which is beginning to dwindle. A gentle sheen of sweat has broken out on your face and Astarion doesn’t think it’s from your proximity to the heat.

You’re right. You didn’t want to come down here either. A couple of things click into place for him, and his eyebrows raise as Astarion uncovers a secret about you.

“Are you… are you afraid of the dark?”

“Fuck off, Astarion,” you sigh. This is totally unlike you. Usually you’re willing to parry his teasing with your own, engage in a little sharp-edged banter. It’s one of his favourite parts of the day, actually - when he can volley back and forth with you. But right now you simply lack your usual gumption. When he attunes his attention to it, Astarion wonders how he was so obtuse; he can taste the fear in your blood without a drop of it needing to hit his tongue, the way it courses round your body, flooding you with adrenaline.

He hesitates. Part of him wants to slip back into pettiness and attempt to goad you into an argument, at least that way maybe you’d be a bit distracted. But another, far larger part of him, a part which he knows is going to win out, wants to reach out in genuine kindness.

“Ignis,” he mutters under his breath, and a Firebolt appears in his hand, flooding the cave with light. He doesn’t launch it at anything, and the flame is hot and uncomfortable against his palm - but not enough for him to care when he sees how you let out a held breath at the sight of it. The cave is bathed in warm light which illuminates every crag and cranny, a couple of spiders skitter away into splinters in the rock, but you don’t seem to care - quite the opposite. This is the most relaxed he’s seen you in a while.

“Better?” he asks. You nod, grip finally loosening a little on your torch.

“Much better. Thank you, Astarion.”

He saunters over, back against the wall and sliding down the stone as carefully as he can. Your eyes soften in the light he casts. From this close, he can admire every inch of your face. It’s a nice face. He’d like to admire it more.

“Didn’t pin you as the type to be afraid of anything. Well, except for the whole possibly turning into a Mindflayer thing, but that’s a given,” he reasons. You groan in frustration.

“I know. It’s silly, really. I’ve hated it since I was little, and as I got older… well, it became less about the dark itself, and more what might be hiding in the dark,” you sigh. Astarion nods. It’s a simple but honest explanation. It seems that, around every corner in this damned place, there’s another beast waiting to jump out at you. He’s been surprised more times in the past few days than he’s been in his entire life. 

“Well, we’ll be out of here soon. Here,” he nods at the cave-in, “and here,” he gestures widely with his free hand, as if to indicate the Underdark itself.

“Yes. And into a place literally dubbed ‘the Shadowlands’.”

“Exactly!” he agrees, and then, “...oh. Right. Shit.”

His genuine reaction of regret makes you laugh, and he realises he hasn’t heard that in days, either. You let your head fall to the side until it lands softly onto his shoulder. Astarion is filled with warmth, and it isn’t just from the fire.

“If I was going to be stuck with anyone in here, I’m glad it’s you,” you mutter. He’s worried it would show too much of his heart to reflect the sentiment, so he just lays his cheek against your scalp, and waits for the others to find you.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling@wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdousnugget @somethingblu3 @hopeful-n-sad

[genki-rays]

moon river

“Remember when you asked me why?” “Why you cared?” He recalls with a joking menace on the last word, leaning back on his palm and bringing his chalice to his lips. “Yeah.” - probably the most personal thing i will ever post on the internet disguised as a reader insert. enjoy! w/c: 813

A considered silence, the earliest hours of the morning. The occasional break, the glug of wine into a silver chalice. Two. The city below still alive in a quiet amber hum.

The Lower City wall. One of the clandestine turrets just along from the Szarr Palace, blankets around shoulders.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

He turns his head in a dozy cant. Lids heavy. Looks at you through a slow blink, dark lashes.

If this were only weeks ago he’d have been skittish at the suggestion. ‘The guard’ would have gone up, the desperate need to keep you close.

How he luxuriates in your company now. Unwavering. Devoted. Proven. Known. Revered.

The Absolute nothing but a brain in the water.

“Anything.” Astarion smiles lazily. 

“Remember when you asked me why?”

“Why you cared?” He recalls with a joking menace on the last word, leaning back on his palm and bringing his chalice to his lips. 

“Yeah.”

He hums in acknowledgement, edging you on at your own pace. A calm quirk plays at the very corner of his lips.

“I saw some of myself in you.”

You let the statement hang for a moment. He swills the red nectar around his teeth and swallows slowly.

“You did, did you?”

“Yeah.’

You lift your own chalice. The stars above never looked brighter than they do now, the clearest of cool nights; the lax billow of sails far along the Chionthar, the couple you see stumbling blindly from a middle-distant tavern. The final call from within. 

‘A lot of my life has been spent making people feel exceptionally wanted. Stealing their hearts to whatever extent that’d allow me to get the reaction I wanted. A mechanical ploy - never cruel, not forced as such - but learned nonetheless. Reading faces, bodies; holding both with reverence.’

You sip. The water sparkles.

‘Giving to whoever promised adoration. Making the occasional someone feel loved enough to keep me safe in their head. A campfire tale.’

There’s a mirth to your smile, teeth glazed in wine and white bread.

‘From the moment I met you I knew there was a vulnerability to you. I loved it.’

Astarion pokes you with his elbow, clicking his tongue but remaining quiet. 

‘You’re beautiful. Those who are so damn godsly-blessed as you rarely have the insecurity I could smell from you, from the knife at my neck. From the fear in the furrow of your brow.’

You know he aches for the sun.

But as the moon catches his profile you see he is the ultimate divine here, now, in this light; at your side. Gossamer to the tips of his curls. Soft, heavy; tongue whetting his lips, mapping constellations in his glorious mind and listening.

Listening to you. 

Without witness. Without reward.

‘And it seems we were both playing the same game. The worst bit is I didn’t even know I was playing one.”

There’s a beat of silence before he opens his mouth to talk.

“In the moment you never do, do you?’

He understands. Gods, he understands. He takes the threads of your lives and weaves them together, just as you’ve done this whole time.

‘You just do what you have to. What feels right. Whatever is going to give you the response you need.”

He was being forced to do what he had to. You did it because you had to. 

It’d be so easy for him to play points in the viciousness of his situation, but he sees that there is familiarity - a gap, as wise as an ocean and simultaneously as small as a grain of sand - in the sentiment. 

You wonder where the point scoring mindset comes from. Why each experience has to be weighty and balanced against another. Why you compare yours to his in any coherent sense.

Then you see the smile.

Ruinous. Saccharine. Eyes of red honey. A hand covering yours.

“Listen, because I won’t repeat it.’

You look at him and you see every dream you’ve ever had. The golden mornings, piles of riches, robes of silk. A house in the clearing. Chickens. Children. A lover so infallible they won’t scare. Your charm, your wit and irreverence; a life of a charm offensive, and all of it evaporates the minute he takes your fingertips in tiny kisses.

‘It worked. You won. You never have to fight like that again. To convince, to perceive the thoughts of others and how they may benefit you or otherwise.’

He rolls his hand in the air, starbound; sweet. 

‘I love you. Irrevocably. You did it. My darling, you won.’

His head shakes a little from side to side as he sips.

‘Admittedly not a flawless prize, but one you’ve won fair and square. Devoted entirely to you.’

Astarion pauses to think. Looks to the moon on the river.

‘Rest east, lover. You’ve got this, and I’ve got you. From here on out.”

[genki-rays]

crawling in as per your bg3 request..

astarion with a tav/reader that’s just constantly cold, like shivering a little bit all the time and their hands & feet are just. ice cold

rating: T

pairing: astarion x reader

“Good gods, you’re freezing!” Astarion complains as his hand accidentally brushes yours before it jolts back in shock. You groan. 

“I know.”

“Even more than me, and I’m practically a corpse.”

“Yes, thank you, Astarion,” you mutter through your gritted jaw. You’re having to clench your teeth together in order to prevent them from chattering, although unfortunately you’re having little success. As if in apology your paramour shifts in his cocoon of an embrace around you, bringing you against him tighter.

This is a new level of cold, even for you.

You always run on the chilly side. You can often be found scooted up close to the fire when you make camp, or tucked in the corner of your tent with extra blankets on top of your bedroll. It’s always been bearable, a bit funny, even - something to joke about with your travelling party - but that was until you got to the Shadow Lands. 

You haven’t been able to feel your fingers or toes for days. It’s torture. The sun doesn’t shine in this place so of course there’s no warmth. You can get a good night of sleep at Last Light Inn where Isobel’s magic keeps it at bay, but on the road? Well, there’s no hope. You’re reduced to a shivering wreck. 

Though Astarion complains, he has been trying to help you where he can. Right now he’s holding you in his arms, attempting to warm you up with his nonexistent body heat. Acting as if the pair of you are just normal lovers and not two weirdos thrown together by fate while attempting to stop a mindflayer invasion. 

A scant few weeks ago he’d have been offering to warm you up in a rather more physical way; with him buried inside of you, lips ghosting your neck, hands on whatever willing flesh he could find. But your relationship has changed, now. Evolved. Become something more, something solid and real. He’s not so eager to dive beneath the covers - at least like that - and you wouldn’t ask him to. You’ll give him all the time he needs. 

It’s nice, what’s happening between the two of you. But at the moment you’re turning every cuddle into a mass of shivering limbs. 

Astarion sighs again. But then he speaks and it’s gentle. 

“You know, you could ask Karlach to come and act as your hot water bottle. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Or maybe that druid, Halsin - he’s been looking at you like he wouldn’t mind cuddling up…”

Though he tries to joke you can tell there’s an undercurrent of self-doubt in there. You harrumph and settle deeper into his arms, opting for a simple retort:

“I don’t want them, I want you.”

You feel him still against you at that unexpected flash of affection. Process it. Then he slowly extricates himself from your grasp. 

A little whine slips from your throat and he pats the top of your head. 

“Now, now. Stay put, pet, and I’ll be right back.”

You grumble but do as you’re bid. He steps out of your tent and you have no choice but to remain as a frozen little ball, foetus-curled and chilled to the bone. It’s a relief when he returns with more blankets and a pot of tea, likely brewed over the fire pit outside. 

“Where did you get—?” you begin to ask, as he tucks the extra bedding around you.

“Well, Gale is fast asleep, he won’t notice he’s missing them until the morning,” Astarion reasons. You laugh, not sure if he’s joking or not, but not really wanting to know the truth - you’re holding onto this even if it was pilfered off the camp’s resident wizard. 

You watch as Astarion pours you both a cup from the little metal teapot. Steam rises soothingly from it, warming up the tent interior. It makes sense he has one for you, of course, but…

“I thought you didn’t like drinking tea,” you say. What you mean is, I thought you didn’t like drinking anything that wasn’t blood. 

“I don’t,” Astarion sighs, but brings the cup to his lips and chugs it down anyway. It must be far too hot to be comfortable, and you’re about to ask what he’s doing - but then he reaches out to untangle your hands from where you have them vice-gripping the edges of your blankets. He folds them in his own, softly and sweetly, then brings them to his mouth where he breathes out a long, slow stream of tea-warmed breath into your palms. 

“Oh, Astarion…” you whisper, finally able to feel your fingers for the first time in days. You feel him smile against your hands. 

“Mmm, I wouldn’t get used to it,” he tells you in a way which suggests he wouldn’t really mind you getting used to it at all. 

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

[genki-rays]

Dating an Inexperienced Percy de Rolo

Pairing: Percy de Rolo x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, kissing, shyness, marking, coming too fast, gentle to rough sex, pussydrunk!Percy de Rolo

A/N: I listened some of C1 again and I miss Percy now. You will too.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo is the most gentle boyfriend you could ever have. Careful not to seem too eager to have sex with you, to the point where he will deny he wants it at all. Hell, he will find extra work for himself just so he doesn't have to think about the fact that he doesn't know what he's doing when he's with you.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo turns around when you begin to take your clothes off in front of him. The tips of his ears blush deep red when he sees your shirt thrown at his feet, followed immediately by your pants. He wants to make sure you have your privacy even if you want him to look at you. He is a gentleman after all.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo turns to be the small spoon while you cuddle because he doesn't want you feel how hard he gets just from feeling your soft curves pressing against him. If he had better self-control he wouldn't have to do this. But the gods have always been cruel to him, so why not now.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo has to jerk off first before he lets you touch him. Nothing against your skills, he knows you can get him hard without even trying but if you did it he would finish faster then usual. He needs to build up some stamina.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo can come just from you kissing his cock. Not stroking it, not giving him a blowjob, just kissing up and down his throbbing length and dragging your lips from one side of his cock to the other, taking the cum with you. Truthfully he can't stop staring at your cum stained lips.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo loves the combined taste of your and his cum while he eats you out. He's good with his hands and his mouth just not when it comes to sex but he can learn really fast and loves listening to your instructions. Sooner or later he will find out what makes you tick and when he does your hours of sleep will be cut short.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo is scared of hurting you during sex because he has no experience in things he wants to do to you. When he's at his horniest he will miss the hole a few times because he's so overstimulated already and wants to come right this moment. Even if he does he will ever lave you high and dry after.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo kisses your pussy as soon as he pulls out of you. He loves you, he loves how you make him feel and that you let him express his needs with you with no shame involved. As you push his head away he keeps trying to push his way back, insisting on kissing you some more.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo makes sure you can handle him when he gets rough with you. There are many times where he's frustrated and really needy for you. So he is grateful if you can tell him and help him spend that energy in a healthy way.

Inexperienced!Percy de Rolo takes as much time for aftercare as he does for having sex. He wants you to know this isn't just fucking for him, he wants you to be more comfortable around you while you're naked and not having sex. Otherwise he might never be able to look you in the eye while you cuddle. Which would be a shame, you have really pretty eyes.

[genki-rays]

found something very silly, but I was looking through my zodiac app (moon app? not entirely sure what the category is but MoonX) and in my birth chart I found this

Orchid and The Star

[genki-rays]

Agressive reminder ur faves would love you actually

No matter ur body type. No matter ur hair type. No matter how tall or short you are. No matter ur accent. No matter if you have bad habits. No matter if you have mental illness. No matter if you’re awkward and no matter if ur overly confident. If ur sensitive, if ur not. If you like touch, if you don’t.

Ur faves would love you, actually. I DO say so and I DO make the rules

[genki-rays]

Giving Astarion forehead kisses, reblog if you agree

[genki-rays]

Yesterday I Felt like Dancing (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You have burnt both ends of the candle and haven’t been taking care of your mental health. Unable to get yourself out of bed, Astarion begins to worry about you…

Author note- I have been hardcore struggling with my mental health lately and writing my silly little fics has been the only thing pulling me along. I thought it might be therapeutic to write about my current feelings (I have ADHD, MDD, and GAD so it’s a party up in here). I hope you enjoy!

CW- Suicidal Ideation, symptoms of depression, brief outburst, mentions of mental health diagnosis and poor medical advice.

Title inspired by song “Into the Walls” by Griff.

*not my pic, could not tell you where I found it so I apologize in advance. If you think it might be your picture, please message me so I can give proper credit.

Your last day before backtracking from the Mountain Pass to the Goblin camp is a difficult one.

Not for the group as a whole- just you specifically.

Days before a Mindflayer kidnapped you, a healer back home had told you your brain was sick. You had been devastated- resigned to your miserable fate.

You had been struggling for years at that point with inconsistent motivation, exhaustion, nightmares, and irrational thoughts for months. You have been functional for the most part, but then an overpowering wave will hit you like Warhammer in the ribs and you are rendered useless until it passes.

The healer suggested sunlight, exercise, eating healthy, and spending time with friends to help your affliction when you hit rock bottom. You were wildly unimpressed with her. At the time, you preferred to self isolate so you stayed by yourself in the woods trying to find peace there. You would have to let her know that her “going out and enjoying the sun” message is not always wise- you may get a tadpole shoved in your head. You can’t be that mad though- the tadpole helped bring your pep back.

Anyway, you have been doing all of that for weeks now, you even felt great, but today? You could not have hit rock bottom harder even if you tried.

You woke up that morning unable to get yourself out of bed. It was a rest day so it wasn’t a big deal, but you also know that your companions are going to have things they need to talk to you about and favors they need you to take care of.

Gods you had tried to get up. You are grateful that your past self had the gumption to wash off and change into clean clothes last night, but your armor is still disgustingly sitting outside your tent and your hair is long and wild. You had wanted to braid it, but it all felt like too much work.

Everything feels like too much work right now- even staying awake- so you drift in and out of uncomfortable naps throughout the morning. No matter how many times you fall asleep, begging for relief from the painful brick wall sitting on your brain, it never leaves.

You can feel the midday breeze rustle your tent. You’ve been laying here for hours now. You are crying and you honestly aren’t sure why. You feel completely paralyzed by all the things you need to do to be ready for the Underdark.

You need to clean your armor, go over the Goblin Camp’s map with Wyll, find Gale a magical artifact, and probably comfort Lae’zel since she’s been branded a heretic- but you won’t. The shame and self loathing continues. You are a silly, worthless little human being.

Every person who knocks on your tent gets a simple, “I’m just not feeling well,” and then they walk away. You don’t know why it makes you more sad than appreciative. If you were in their shoes- you would be bending over backwards to make sure they had everything they needed and you wouldn’t let them feel alone. Then you resent yourself for feeling that way towards your companions- they don’t owe you anything and you were the one who chose to help them- you didn’t ask for anything in return. This is all your fault.

The only person who hadn’t come to visit you was Astarion- which hurt your heart just a little, enough that the numbness coursing thickly through your body wavered for a moment. You are quite smitten and he is obviously not. Another mistake to add to the swirling black hole your mind has fallen into.

You knew it was stupid to want his comfort and affections- you had merely slept together a little less than a week ago. Astarion has been quasi avoiding you ever since and when he does talk to you- he’s awkward. You constantly look for flying pigs- Astarion feeling awkward or being awkward is unheard of.

You have come to accept that you were just some tryst and obviously he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

Astarion isn’t to blame and the situation itself certainly didn’t contribute to the sudden lack of emotions. You knew that you were on the verge of a mental collapse sooner rather than later, but you had foolishly hoped you wouldn’t be alone through it. It feels less all consuming when you try to find a reason. It’s more comfortable to know than it is to give up and say, “my brain is fucked and there isn’t a damn thing I can do so I guess I’m stuck here.”

You are jolted out of your thoughts by another knock on your tent.

“I’m sick,” you say flatly.

“Ha- you act like that will deter me. I can’t even get sick, Darling.”

Before you even have time to register that Astarion is on the other side of your tent- he pushes his way through the flaps and stares down at you in confusion. And… concern?

Astarion steps inside and kneels down next to you- scanning you for evidence of illness or injury.

“I suppose I had been worried for nothing,” he smiles sweetly at you, “you are totally fine. Come on Darling, you have to get up and eat. Wyll is fumbling with that map.”

You look at him and begin to cry. Astarion’s face lights up with alarm.

“What- what did I do!?”

“Please don’t make me,” you sob, “I just want a break. I’m so tired. I want to lay in this bed forever and never leave, but there is so much to do and it’s paralyzing.”

You continue to cry and you cover yourself with the extra blanket- successfully hiding your face.

“Go away,” you whisper, “I need to be left alone.”

You say it, but you are far from meaning it. You want him to stay- to hold you- but he doesn’t want you so it will only make everything hurt worse once the numbness fades away.

You wait for several moments and then you hear him leave. Your silent cry turns into choked sobs and your body is shaking from the pain you are in. The numbness hurts. The numbness tells you that you shouldn’t be alive.

Maybe you shouldn’t be.

Everyone here would be able to figure it out on their own (eventually) and you would finally be free. Free of your uncomfortable brain, free of your ugly body- free of the expectations of others. You would no longer be holding them back like you are today- like you will again in the future.

You are sure they would temporarily grieve you, but that was the deal with this whole journey. You had all accepted that one of you or all of you could die at any moment. You will just put them in more danger by being here…

You shake the thought from your head, violently- your head is pounding from the growing tension headache and dehydration. The tears eventually stop and you just… well, lay in bed again. You stare blankly at a book over in the corner. You keep trying to convince yourself to get up and read the damn thing- do literally ANYTHING else than just stay here in your bedroll.

Instead, you fall asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up to someone knocking on your tent post. You grumble incoherently, covering your head and you hear your unexpected guest sit down next to you. The smell of food fills the tent and your stomach grumbles.

“You need to eat, my Dear,” Astarion says softly.

You are stunned to hear his voice grace your ears. You slowly pull the blanket down to just below your eyes and look at him. Astarion looks distressed, like he doesn’t want to be here. Why would he? You’re a nuisance.

You sit up gingerly and grab the bowl from him. You manage to give him a lopsided smile.

“Thanks. You don’t need to stay, I will be fine on my own,” you say apathetically, staring into the broth.

“I want to stay,” he says, “if you’ll have me.”

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he seems genuine. You nod, your lips pressed together tightly. You eat as much as you feel like while Astarion studies you.

Usually your anxiety is at an all time high (in maybe one of the better ways) when you are around Astarion- he gives you butterflies, butterflies, and even more butterflies. Usually your heart is racing in his presence, but right now you just feel empty.

“Where is your hairbrush?” Astarion asks.

You frown with confusion, “it’s in my bag, why?”

Astarion gets up and goes over to the bag- digging out a few items. He pulls out a lantern, your hairbrush, and a hair tie. Astarion comes over to you and sits down behind you. You feel him gather up the stray pieces of your hair and get to work.

Astarion runs his fingers through your scalp and your tangled hair- the feeling is soothing and it opens something inside of you. Your body shakes silently with sobs and you feel the worm behind your eyes wiggle as Astarion asks for access. You aren’t sure.

“I want to understand,” Astarion says, “please.”

His voice is so raw and desperate- you swallow thickly before allowing him to explore your current emotional state. The silence in the tent is palpable and you feel tense, uncomfortable even. No one has ever cared for you while you are in this state before.

You feel him continue his hairbrushing after he exits your mind. Astarion leaves soft kisses on your shoulder as he gently pulls apart every knot. It helps- you realize- to feel cared for. The numbness still hurts, you still hurt, but it’s nice to not feel so alone.

After Astarion is done brushing your hair, you feel his delicate fingers begin to intricately braid your hair. You wonder when he learned how to do hair.

“Leon’s daughter, Victoria, used to ask me to braid her hair all the time,” Astarion says in a bittersweet voice as if reading your mind, “I picked it up so that she would stop bugging me about it. She said and I quote, ‘you have the perfect braiding hands!’”

You smile to yourself tenderly, “That’s very kind of you, Star. I am sure she appreciated it as much as I appreciate it now.”

You feel Astarion’s hands falter at your words and you are unsure if you have upset him or not. A pregnant pause occurs before Astarion finally clears his throat and goes back to braiding your hair.

“I’m glad that I can help,” Astarion’s delicate, vulnerable words hang in the air, “I’ve… been worried about you today.”

You feel positively flustered and bad for making him feel that way.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about silly ole me! This happens sometimes” you make your voice chirpier than it needs to be, “This is actually the longest I’ve gone for a long time without this happening. I have theorized that the tadpole might help which is kinda cool- I think?”

You laugh awkwardly- desperate to ease his worry.

“How often does this happen?”

Shit. That was the winning question wasn’t it? Astarion will surely never see you as anything less than broken now.

“I’m not really sure,” your voice comes out in a whisper, “I usually always feel a bit of it all the time, but it’s manageable. I function very well regardless.”

“But this one isn’t manageable and evidently you aren’t functional right now.”

You sigh, “No, it isn’t and no, I’m not.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” you say, maybe too harshly, “that’s the part that drives me crazy. Yesterday was incredible- I was on top of the whole world, felt like dancing and screaming from the rooftops, but today!?”

You inhale and hold back the muted scream that wants to fill the air.

“Today,” you hiss, “I don’t even want to deal with any of this shit anymore. I’m so fucking tired. There is too much to fucking do and too many people depending on me. Then everyone gets irritated with me if I ask to push off their problems so I persevere through it despite knowing I’m getting bad again. I’m a giant stinking trash heap that everyone keeps adding more to.”

Astarion finishes braiding your hair and presses your back to his chest, pulling you into him. He puts his arms around your waist and settles his chin and face in between the crook of your neck.

“I just feel like such a nuisance all the time- no matter how hard I push myself to prove I’m not. Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just… went away.”

You both sit there quietly. At some point he had taken one of your hands in his and he was tracing shapes into the back of it with his thumb. Your omission still hangs heavily in the air.

“I wouldn’t be better off,” Astarion says hotly, “I’d be stuck with all these weirdos by myself. That would be truly miserable, Darling.”

You shake your head, a half smile on your face.

“And besides- you are not even close to a nuisance,” Astarion states, leaving a kiss on your cheek, “at least you aren’t in constant need of magical objects to eat or blood to drink. Oh and you don’t require a painstaking amount of searching to prevent you from literally burning everyone alive.

“Oh and did I forget to mention, we have not one, but two women who despise each other and follow hateful Goddesses which was a fun choice for whatever sick bastard twisted our fates this way.”

You laugh breathily, closing your eyes and letting the sound defrost some of your insides.

“What I’m saying is- I think you are the least of everyone’s ‘nuisances’, my Darling,” he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, “despite how little you think of yourself. We ne- no, I want you to stay. I know everyone else would say the same, but I must emphasize that I would be horribly distraught if you disappeared. Hells I’d even pay to have you resurrected.”

You gasp playfully, your voice falling slightly flat, “You? The most frugal man I have ever met would pay 200 gold coins to ‘Strike thy name from the record’?”

Your impression of Withers gets Astarion to genuinely laugh- the sound vibrating in your chest. You lean into him and he guides you back to laying down. Astarion entangles his legs with yours as he holds you tightly- your faces are mere centimeters apart. You love the way Astarion smells- rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. You wish you could be wrapped up in him forever. You are still in pain- everything still hurts and feels too difficult, but right now it feels a little less heavy.

“I would throw bags of Gold Coins at that corpse out of revenge, my Dear,” he teases, “you couldn’t possibly think I would ever let you rest peacefully in your grave- I would be far too angry with you and unhappy without you to let that happen.”

You lay there and despite yourself, you lean forward and leave butterfly kisses along his cheeks with your lashes. Astarion scrunches up his nose reflexively and smiles at you. You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips.

“Thank you Astarion- for everything.”

You close your eyes as he traces circles along your lower back. Your eyes begin to droop, and you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you wake up the next morning- you are disappointed to find that you are all alone in your tent. The heavy numbness is still there and you sigh. At least last night made it more bearable.

You look on the side where Astarion had been sleeping and find a note with a bottle attached to it. You pick it up and begin to read.

Tav,

Astarion had asked me about herbs for some relief regarding mental discomforts. I unfortunately don’t know many, but this is a mixture of St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root, and Ashwagandha. Historically, I know these have been used to alleviate emotional and mental pain.

Astarion didn’t tell me why he was asking, but I deduced it was you pretty quickly when he began shooing everyone away from your tent this morning.

I hope this helps- we are all here if you need us. May Silvanus light your path as you navigate this difficult time.

-Halsin

You sit in your own stunned silence for what feels like hours. Halsin knows and he wants to help? Halsin doesn’t think you are screwed or a nuisance? The man barely even knows you!

You are a bit embarrassed, but you can’t help but laugh at the image of Astarion telling everyone to leave you alone.

You open the bottle and a pleasant, earthy smell fills the tent. You drink the mixture (that definitely does not taste anywhere near as pleasant as it smells) and you do feel a slight bit better. Your apathy feels even more tolerable now. You will have to thank Halsin.

You slowly rise from your tent and look around. Everything is packed up neatly in the corner- your clothes from the previous day are folded nicely and you notice all the holes are sewn up.

You jump when someone enters your tent abruptly- the midday sun warming your skin. You turn around and Astarion is smiling at you, but looks nervous.

“I cleaned off your armor and your weapons,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “I also packed up your stuff- as you can see. We have to start leaving unfortunately, but I’ll help you get on your armor like I usually do- I might still need help with mine though, but I can ask someone else if it’s too much for you right now. Lae’zel and Karlach offered to pack up your tent. Wyll and Shadowheart figured out the map- Wyll is going to be our ‘fearless’ leader for the day. Gale has some food for you to snack on while we travel- which you will be eating, by the way.”

Astarion is looking at you with a vulnerable expression on his face. He plays nervously with the gold coin in his hands.

You can hardly believe what you are hearing.

“Did- did you do all this for me?” You say with disbelief.

You never thought Astarion was capable of smiling shyly until he had admitted to you that you had been his first thinking creature- you certainly never thought you’d see him become shy twice in your presence.

“I did and it wasn’t a nuisance so don’t even begin to worry about that,” He walks over to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, “I hope this is all okay.”

You smile- the first genuine feeling of happiness you’ve felt in the last 24 hours gently sparks in your chest as you stare up at him. You get up on your tiptoes and bridge the gap between your lips.

“Thank you Astarion, this is perfect- you are perfect,” you are crying tears of joy, “this is the kindest gesture anyone has ever made for me. So just, thank you.”

“Of course, Darling,” he says smiling in between kisses, “I won’t let you lose to yourself. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”

And for once? You actually believe someone.

-if you guys like this, please let me know if you would want a part two written from Astarion’s perspective.

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

[genki-rays]

That scene from Baldur's Gate 3 where you wake up and Astarion is trying to bite you, but instead of the options the game gives you, you just bite him back.

[genki-rays]

I’m not sure if this’ll make it to you or not, but! For Astarion:

I have so many thoughts and so little words to convey them, but I hope you genuinely feel the love and adoration we all hold for you. I know there’s. A lot of people out there that resonate with your experiences, myself included, and I hope with every fiber of my being that you understand, even in the smallest of allowances, that we hold you so very dearly.

And that for you to simply exist, is enough. <3

Astarion flips the mysterious note over with his slender fingers, trying to figure out who had left him such a touching letter. Crimson eyes narrowing his brows furrow as he thinks of everyone in camp, surely it wasn't one of them, right?

But then he's reminded of the aftermath of the fight with Cazador, how all his companions came to his need when they didn't have to. And how Tav specifically prevented him from making a terrible mistake—Ascending. Because of that, he ended centuries of abuse and saved 7,000 others just like him.

But the best part about all of it?

Astarion was not only free, but he showed Cazador he came back home loved.

And so, with a broken sob, he clutches the note to his chest and stands in silence, the only sound being the quiet sniffles of him fighting back his tears.

[genki-rays]

astarion: why are we helping the gnomes, we have a thing to do and this is very much out of the way, all this is going to do is shoot us in the foot

me: there is a guy? suffocating to death? we can at least help him out

astarion: fine, but don’t expect me to lift a finger

gnomes, immediately after I get the oxen to work without swatting them: okay now you’re gonna die

me:

astarion, probably with the shit eating-est I-Told-You-So look on his face:

[genki-rays]

HI FIRST OF ALL LOVE YOUR WRITING second of all ! kind of specific but may I request an astarion x reader/tav where like. 90% of their time with the companions reader/tav hasn’t been able to see all that well- like. they can see colors and sort-of shapes but most details are completely incomprehensible, and through some method or another (probably someone’s attempt at “removing the tadpole” or smthn but up to you!) they’re finally able to see clearly and they’re just. completely amazed because EVERYTHING (astarion) is so beautiful actually??

Like Nothing I’ve Seen (Astarion x GN! reader)

CW- Mentions of gore and violence (due to Volo being a socially incompetent goofball) , self-esteem issues because I’m an insecure queen myself and like to deal with my feelings through my OCs

Title inspired by the song “Beautiful Things” by Grayscale

Hello! I am so sorry this took so long. Work has been kicking my whole ass lately!!!

This has not be thoroughly proof read so I may make changes as I find them, but I was too excited to post it! I hope you enjoy!

HI FIRST OF ALL LOVE YOUR WRITING second of all ! kind of specific but may I request an astarion x reader/tav where like. 90% of their time with the companions reader/tav hasn’t been able to see all that well- like. they can see colors and sort-of shapes but most details are completely incomprehensible, and through some method or another (probably someone’s attempt at “removing the tadpole” or smthn but up to you!) they’re finally able to see clearly and they’re just. completely amazed because EVERYTHING (astarion) is so beautiful actually??

Being a monk is hypothetically supposed to help your pain tolerance- ya know, zen and shit.

Except, you quickly learn that a crossbow bolt to the eyeball is enough to break your zen.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s fighting quickly subsides as you stare at the two blobs out of your (now) one only good eye- good being a stretch. Admittedly, of all the people this could have happened to, it’s probably a good thing it was you since your eyes don’t really work anyway.

The purple, silver, and black blob (who you have come to know as ‘Shadowheart’) comes running towards you, her movements frantic as she begins to try to bandage your eye. You wince as she starts to remove the crossbow bolt.

“I am so sorry,” Shadowheart says, the distress evident in her voice, “if only that gith would stop being such a problem.”

Shadowheart practically screamed the last bit, but at least you are in too much pain for the shrill sound of her voice to bother you. You never wanted to find out if eyeballs could throb- you missed the hours before breakfast when you were blissfully ignorant to the true capabilities of your eyeballs.

The hostile green ball, Lae’zel, comes charging over with an insult sitting on the tip of her tongue before another blob knocks her aside.

“Walk it off Lae’zel,” you hear Karlach say with heavy amounts of exasperation.

Lae’zel grumbles as she storms off; Shadowheart continues to slowly work on you as you wince, whimper, and feel the tears start to fall.

“What did you do?!”

The rage in his voice rattles your bones- if tones could kill, Shadowheart would have keeled over. The radiant blob of your lover is in Shadowheart’s face (at least you hope it’s her face).

“Fangs, put them away!”

“Oh? Were you this anal when they were SHOOTING CROSSBOWS KARLACH?!”

You are beginning to feel dizzy and the yelling isn’t helping. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion are arguing relentlessly- Karlach attempting to mediate. At some point Gale and Wyll join the mix- you think they are trying to hold back Astarion, but you aren’t sure.

In all the chaos, you are unaware of Volo coming up behind you- a solution brewing in his brains.

“Don’t worry my friend,” He explains with gusto, “I can fix this!”

Before anyone can protest, Volo rips the bolt out- your eyeball coming out with it before Volo plops a spherical object in your lap.

“Tada!”

The blood curdling scream that rips through your throat as you clutch at your eye socket surprises even you. In the midst of the white, hot pain- you hear Volo running off , also screaming, away from what you think is Astarion.

You feel Shadowheart grab the spherical object from your lap as Karlach holds you down on the ground.

“Sorry Soldier, but this is probably going to hurt.”

Oh and it hurts.

Shadowheart is wiggling the eye roughly into your eye socket, apologizing the entire time. You feel your socket form around the new eye. The pain from the removal and the new addition begins to subside into a dull ache as the new eyeball makes itself at home in your head- healing energy radiating from it and Shadowheart’s palm.

You feel like you are going to throw up, pass out, or go into a fit of hysteria by the time you start trying to blink your eyes open. You stare down at the grass below you and watch as a red bug with black spots walks along one of the blades before taking flight.

You freeze- the world is definitely not blobbish anymore. You run your fingers through the soft, green grass.

Has it always looked this way?

“How is the new eye?” Shadowheart says nervously.

You look over at her and try to stifle your shock.

Shadowheart is stunning and Karlach is just as awe inspiring as Shadowheart.

“Are you okay, Soldier?”

Sometimes you forget that your companions don’t know about your vision issues. You are able to hide your vision deficit well due to your years of training as a monk teaching you how to rely heavily on your other senses and the energy in the air.

You have come to adore all of your companions for their personalities, their laughs- Astarion especially. However, now you understand why perfect strangers come up to your companions with enamored voices.

“You catch him, Fangs?” Karlach says in a teasing town.

You hear Astarion scowl, “the bastard ran off and disappeared before I could even get near him.”

Astarion comes out from the corner of your eye and kneels in front of you. You try so hard to keep the surprise and pleasant shock on your face. His eyes bore into yours with an emotion that is not recognizable. A tick of frustration flares in your mind- now you have to learn an entirely new set of rules for social interaction.

Except, you’ll deal with that later. For now, you have a literal God kneeling in front of you, his hand cupping your cheek and surveying your new eye.

Gods he’s incredible.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper involuntarily.

As the blush spreads along your cheeks, Astarion breaks out in a bright, beautiful smile.

“Well that settles it, your vision is working just fine!”

He gives you a quick kiss on your lips- your face feels like it’s on fire.

It had been a little over a week since the tiefling party. He had been distant with you initially after your midnight tryst and you had felt quite broken over it. You had been spending time with Gale at the campfire talking about the Monastery you grew up in and his experiences with the weave. Astarion had barged into the conversation, sat down next to you, and had practically pulled you into his lap next to the campfire. After that night, you’ve become inseparable- sleeping in each other’s tents, more midnight trusts, cuddling, spending the whole night talking or playing games. You spent alone time with your other companions, he would never control you or dictate who you spend time with- even if you can sense Astarion nearby when you are around Gale.

“No my dear, I trust you. I just don’t trust the boot muncher.”

“You really need to stop saying that,” your serious demeanor cracking, “he doesn’t actually eat the boots.”

He snickered, “oh ya? Then why have we never seen them after he absorbs them? And yet everyone judges my feeding habits!”

Astarion helps you up off the ground and you are dizzy from all the new stimuli around you. His hands find purchase on your hips as he helps steady you. You take advantage of the support and look around your camp.

It all looked exactly how you did and did not imagine. Your brain feels like it’s having a war between what your senses tell you about the land versus what your eyes are saying. You can label everything in the camp because you know where it is based on location, but none of it looks like the way you had anticipated- in fact, it was all far more breathtaking than you imagined.

“What are you thinking about Darling,” he whispers against your ear.

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine, a smile consuming your face.

“I was thinking it might be fun to go explore around camp and make sure my eye is really working.”

He stares at you with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the environment and your sight hasn’t changed that much?”

Ah, that look means confusion.

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” you put your hand on your hip and flash a grin, “besides, it’s not like I asked you to go with me.”

*******************************************

Astarion walks leisurely behind you as you make a point of touching anything you can reach. He thought you were the most normal one at camp (mentally at the very least), but he is beginning to think he misjudged you.

You are twirling around the forest like you’ve never been in one before. You ask him questions about specific objects and express a great deal of interest in everything you come across- you even find the rocks interesting. While he did find the strangeness to be odd, he still couldn’t help but relish in the genuine, innocent joy on your face. Astarion feels an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout his body while he watches you as you bound around the forest floor.

Astarion is slowly recognizing that his plan is unraveling, but only a little bit. He had thought you would be the lovesick puppy chasing him around camp, but, as Karlach has pointed out to him, it’s the opposite.

He finds himself always making an inventory of where you are in relation to him, who you are talking to, and your feelings- even the ones he is currently disrespecting by attempting to gain your undying protection.

Now Astarion is here- watching you follow a bumble bee towards a large Oak tree.

As you stop and make a point of sitting down under a tree, you touch the various flowers scattered in the grass and excitedly chat about the details of the flower. Astarion silently sits next to you with a smile and takes a look at your face- you look like a blind man seeing for the first time. The realization hits him like an eldritch blast.

“Darling?”

You hum.

“Have you not been able to see until today?”

Astarion watches as you tense up and your eyes meet his. Astarion struggles to discern the look in your eyes- it’s somewhere between fear and apprehension. He offers you a small smile before you break eye contact with a sigh.

“I, um, was sick as a baby. My mom left me outside of a monastery. I guess whatever I was sick with attacked my vision so I could only really see colors and the basic outlines of the things,” Astarion looks at you as if to encourage you to go on so you continue, “it’s never affected me though. The monks taught me how to use my other senses and taught me how to sense energy in the air.”

Astarion is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that a. He was right and b. You slept with him without knowing what he looks like? C. You are easily the second strongest in your little gang of weirdos and the entire time you could barely see.

“So when you told me I’m beautiful?”

You blush and hide your soft grin. He hears your heart begin to race.

“I really did mean it then. I think you are a very good person- I just adore you. Your smile, your laugh, your personality- even the snarky bits. I can see why all those tiefling women kept flirting with you at the party now though.”

“Are you saying I’m an acquired taste?!”

“Hmmm,” you tap your chin, “ I suppose that is exactly what I’m saying.”

“I am truly heartbroken darling, I thought we had something special.”

He huffs playfully and pretends to be upset- ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. Astarion’s heart clenches as you look at him with the same warmth he is feeling. You break eye contact from him and he can’t help but feel disappointed.

“We do, you’re just lucky I’m a monk and I’ve been forced to practice patience my whole life.”

Astarion is lost for words as he turns over what you just said in his head.

“We do.”

A couple minutes later, you look up at him again- that same fear in your eyes, but also some hope. After you realize he isn’t going to say anything, you speak again.

“I am not entirely sure why you have gravitated towards me, but I really like you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way and we can just go back to being friends,” you pause, “and you won’t lose my protection. I still intend on helping you be free of Cazador once and for all.”

You look away from him, hands fiddling with the flowers. Astarion is still digesting everything you just said to him.

It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings (even if he refuses to admit he does), he just doesn’t… deserve someone like you.

He had always been under the assumption that monks were stuffy and by-the-book. You had taken him by complete surprise. You are slyly funny, have no problems with bending the rules if it means helping someone (he doesn’t care for the intent of bending the rules, but he likes bending the rules), and you are accepting. You aren’t neutral with your feelings unless you are trying to mediate an argument or make the best decision for the group.

He appreciates how blunt you are in private- he never has to try to guess what’s on your mind. You make him feel safe like no one else has for the last 200 years.

How could I not gravitate towards you?

It also occurs to him that you have never seen yourself- how your eyes twinkle when you smile or the dimples that grace your cheeks. You hadn’t even seen your body- the same body he was starstruck by and, despite the dissociation and icky feelings, he was able to enjoy the sec between you to some extent.

He gets up from his spot on the ground next to you- your shoulders slightly slumping in defeat.

“Oh stop being so dramatic darling,” he teasingly smiles at you, “get up- I have something to show you.”

***************************************

You blindly follow Astarion to his tent- you had asked him what he wanted to show you the entire walk back, but he refused to disclose that information.

Once you were in camp, Astarion had wrapped some cloth around your eyes before dragging you in the direction of his tent.

“Now you stay right here- don’t move a muscle.”

“Oh you mean like-“

He interrupts you by swatting your hand away from his curls. You pout playfully and he pulls you to his chest before kissing you deeply. You are shocked by his actions and his gasp of surprise tells you he is just as shocked too. You feel him pull back as you start to melt against him, your hands tangled in his hair. An impatient whine escapes your lips. He chuckles.

“No, no, no,” he says, “not yet. Now stay still or there’s no more kisses for you.”

“No more kisses!?”

“You heard me!”

You stay still- the threat is more than enough to convince you to stop. You can hear and sense Astarion rustling around the tent, placing various objects of different vibrations all around his tent. It feels like it takes eons as he readjusts and moves the objects around. Finally, Astarion hums with approval.

“Alright darling, you can take the blind fold off now.”

You take off your blindfold eagerly and your eyes adjust to the warm light in the tent. As you look around, you see that Astarion had set up every mirror he owns all around the tent.

Mirrors.

You stare back at who you can only presume to be yourself. You take in all your features- dissecting yourself. The longer you stare at yourself, the unhappier you become.

You know that Astarion’s intent is good (or you hope it is), but you can’t help the frown that takes place on your face. You are so plain in comparison to Astarion and everyone in camp. Why would he want to be with you when he could have someone as stunning as Shadowheart? Someone equally as interesting to look at?

“What’s wrong,” Astarion says with alarm in his voice.

You suddenly become aware of the hot tears running down your cheeks as Astarion cups your face with his hands. You shake your head, crying harder as he wipes your tears away.

“Darling, please.”

The desperation in his voice causes you to finally meet his eyes, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“ I’m so plain looking,” you start, “the rest of you are all beautiful in unique ways and I just look like everyone else.”

He scowls, shaking his head at you.

“That is not even slightly true.”

He twirls you around in his arms and has you facing the mirrors again. You have to remind myself that he is behind you still as you feel his fingers trace the details of your face (it would really ruin the moment if you elbowed him in the ribs).

“No one shines like you do. No one smiles like you or laughs like you- crinkles their eyes when they are happy like you. You are funny and intelligent; and by the Gods you are powerful. The fact that you have been fighting blind this whole time is absolutely incredible. You, darling, are a force of nature,” he puts his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the delicate skin, “I may say a lot of honeyed words, but I wouldn’t say them if they weren’t true.”

“And, in all my 200 years of living, I must say, you are like no beauty I have ever seen before.”

You can’t help but smile brightly and you try to look at yourself the way he sees you. Maybe you can see the person he is referring to, but you just need more time to get used to actually seeing yourself. Maybe with time, you will be able to see how brightly you shine too- you’ll just have to work at it.

You smile at yourself softly and say a quiet you’re wonderful to yourself before looking away from the mirrors.

You turn around and give Astarion a soft, long kiss- he sighs into the kiss, meeting your tempo until you pull away; Breathless like a fish out of water. He puts his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

“Thank you, Astarion- I think you shine too.”

[genki-rays]

Good morning/evening! Crawling in looking for bg3 matchup, please and thank you! - one of each gender, and am open to poly or monogamous answer!

My Tav is ! a half-drow barbarian, more keen on exploring and checking things out than fighting but once she’s in battle it’s all or nothing, though sometimes she gets fixated on the quickest way to end things rather than the most effective. Absolutely panics when someone is downed or dead even with revive scrolls, tries not to leave them for long and always checks in with whoever it was after battles.

She tries to keep a kind, ‘morally correct’ image of herself, placing most investment in justice despite trying to keep peace. She can recognize when a situation calls for a more brash approach though, or if it’s better to cut their losses than to pursue smthn. She’s rather quick to anger though, often getting irrationally frustrated when something isn’t working out in her favor. She’ll try to keep a cool head but ultimately gets snippy or actually violent over it and is fine after a moment.

My Tav would absolutely love to draw though, if she doesn’t have any sort of drawing equipment a stick and the dirt will do just fine. She also keeps a small collection of rocks she’s found in their travels- 100% gives away ones that remind her of certain companions to them. She also really likes the stars, she can’t really tell which constellations are which- or even if there are any visible- but she just thinks they’re pretty ^^

A/N: Alright my Half-Drow Barbarian Anon, I think you’d be best matched with Wyll (Male) or Karlach (Female)!

🗡 Wyll would be a good match for your half-drow Barbarian Tav, as both of them are pretty intelligent and proficient in fighting. Both Wyll and you Tav are quick to investigate, then act. It’s actually what got Wyll into trouble all those years ago, him seeing a situation that required intervention, and acting with haste to try and save Baldur’s Gate. Both he and Tav see themselves as good people- people who try to do what’s right. 

They would also be able to bond over the discrimination they face. Wyll, now because of his horns, and Tav, because she’s part drow. 

However, opposite attracts, in that Wyll is often more composed, and not quick to become enraged. So he ends up being the one calm guy, pulling your Tav back by the collar as she’s yelling, “Let me at ‘em! Let me at em!” 

Wyll tends to mull things over a long time, and he kinda sulks a bit whereas Tav is super fast with her feelings. So when she’s angry, and he comes to understand how she’s feeling, he’ll bring her a really cool rock and be like, “Here love, I brought you a present to help you cheer up.” And Tav will be like, “Cheer up from what?” “Weren’t you raging five minutes ago?” “Well, yeah. But that was five minutes ago.” Wyll is like :00

He loves how artistic she is! He asks if she’ll teach him to draw and in exchange, he’ll teach her to dance. Also will find her rocks for her collection. Most of the ones he gives her outright are pretty boring, but that’s only because he’s secretly stashing the cool ones, planning to commission an awesome weapon with them engraved in the handle. 

At the end of a long day adventuring, Wyll loves to sit with her at the campfire and look up at the stars. He may only know a few constellations from when he was a boy, but he’ll gladly share that knowledge with her. 

He thinks she’s lovely. And is so honored to have her at his side. 

♨ Karlach would also be a good match for your Tav! The both of you are barbarians, so you totally understand the urge to solve most of your problems just by smashing them, or fighting. But Karlach is also smart=t. I mean she’s not a genius or anything, but she’s intelligent enough to be calculating in her attacks. Karlach would most likely appreciate your Tav’s knack for investigating an area before charging in, making sure everyone had all the proper details first and foremost. 

Unfortunately Karlach can also be all or nothing when it comes to her loved ones getting hurt. She totally panics and feels guilty as if she should have done something to prevent it. Your Tav will have to assure Karlach that it wasn't her fault, and encourage Karlach to not talk down to herself. 

Karlach is a firm believer in right vs wrong, even if she wasn't always able to act on it in the way she wanted to. She’s also fiery and pretty quick to anger- your Tav and her are very similar in that regard. So they might get more carried away than most lol. One of them would need to develop a little more discipline in order to hold the other one back. But that’s ok! They could both get snippy, even with each other, and it wouldn't matter too much. They’re pretty evenly matched strength wise, so they could even battle the stress out if they wanted. 

Karlach is a pretty fiery girl, but she does need a fair amount of time to cool down. She might need more time than your Tav to process things and get past them. 

Karlach loves how artistic Tav is! She thinks it’s incredible; she’s always bragging to the others in camp about Tav’s work. Karlach even asks Tav to pretty please draw them matching tattoos, because Karlach thinks that would be sick! 

Will hold rocks for her while they go collecting, and can even hold an extra one in her tail. 

Karlach doesn't know anything about stars either, but loves making up stories as she goes, she points to the biggest one she can find and names it special, after Tav. 

...

I hope you enjoy!

...

Please Like, But Most Importantly, Reblog!!!

[genki-rays]

it seems I’ve hit my annual attempt at realism so here’s a slightly off-putting astarion bc apparently I have no idea how to draw his mouth 💁‍♀️

the screenshot I was referencing:

[genki-rays]

maybe someday I’ll be able to properly write smthn myself for astarion if I can nail down his character properly bc if I write ooc I’ll die but imagine him with a tav/reader that also uses terms of endearment just as a force of habit, (they try not to bc it’s caused uncomfy mixed messages in the past) and bc he uses them on a sentancely basis they just. slip out

like he says smthn and he’s hit back with the “love/hon/etc.” and tav/reader is just like

uh

pretend that didn’t happen