#act 1 astarion

[rielzero]

I love his face ;_;

[yume-tavriel]

" I have missed you. And now you're all mine, and I'm all yours. Until morning at least. "

[lavenderfluorite14]

A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav Chapter 14: Feast

Summary: Astarion isn't the only one who hungers.

Rating/Chapter Warnings: R, a lot of gore, auto-cannibalism, eye stuff involving the tadpole, so much emotional manipulation. Full fic tag list on AO3.

Astarion wakes, curled in on himself. His head throbs and he immediately regrets drinking so much the night before. He groggily opens his eyes, blinking away the remnants of his troubled sleep. It takes him a moment to recognize his surroundings. He is in Tav’s tent.

His head spins with the memory of a dream. A shining stranger beckoning him. The power you desire is within your grasp. All you have to do is embrace your potential.

He tries to sit up, but his movement jostles the warm arm thrown over him, which nudges the even warmer body spooning him from behind. Tav tightens her arm around him, pulling him back to bed.

“Don’t go,” she pleads, her voice still thick with sleep.

“But it’s the morning, darling,” he insists, trying once again to extricate himself from her embrace. Their night is over, surely he should leave. There’s no point in staying.

“No it’s not,” Tav insists, not letting go.

“Then why is the sun up,” Astarion asks pointedly.

Tav doesn’t move. “Just five more minutes,” she whines softly. He sighs loudly and Tav snuggles up against him even further. He tries not to enjoy her warmth, her heartbeat. How nice this feels. He could get used to this.

He allows her almost exactly 5 minutes.

“Alright darling, enough laying about.” Tav groans and tries to burrow under the covers, but Astarion tears the blankets off of them.

“Let’s see what horrors await us today.”

~

Halsin is big by any standard but he is absolutely enormous for an elf. He’s ruggedly handsome, but deceptively serene. His soft brown eyes don’t always conceal the fury that simmers underneath.

Halsin is certain that a cure for their infection lies at Moonrise Towers. However, the towers sit on cursed land shrouded in unnatural, hungry darkness. Everything that lingers there eventually succumbs to the Shadow Curse. 

“I’d like to join you, if you are headed to Moonrise,” Halsin offers.

“Do not be so hasty. The Githyanki crèche remains our priority,” Lae’Zel reminds them, as annoyingly focused as ever.

“I promised Lae’Zel that we would seek out her crèche,” Tav confirms. “But I’m keeping our options open. If we can’t be cured at the crèche then it sounds like our next best bet is Moonrise.” She smiles at the bear. “You are welcome to come with us. We’ll take all the help we can get.” Halsin smiles back at her, his mouth a warm sliver of sunshine. Astarion rolls his eyes, squashing the rising prickle of jealousy inside of him. 

“Of course we will be cured at the crèche!” Lae’Zel protests. “And once you are cured, you istiks will understand the glory of Vlaakith!”

“If this X is where the Githyanki were last seen, then it is likely that the crèche you seek is in the Western Mountain Pass,” Halsin deduces, pointing to their map. “That pass will take you to the very tip of the Shadow Cursed Lands. Alternatively, you could also travel through the Underdark. A man called Ketheric Thorm was able to use a secret underground route to covertly move his army of Dark Justiciars from Moonrise Towers throughout Faerûn.”

Shadowheart perks up at this. “There were Dark Justiciars here?”

“Oh yes. Supposedly there is a secret entrance to the Underdark beneath the ruined Temple of Selûne. I was seeking it with Aradin and his party when we were captured,” Halsin explains.

“We must go through the Underdark,” Shadowheart argues. “It is my duty to follow where my Dark Lady leads me. If there were Dark Justiciars there, then I must find them.” 

“Our quest for a cure remains paramount and cannot be waylaid. The crèche is the only way,” Lae’Zel hisses. Shadowheart glares at her.

“I don’t expect a Githyanki to understand the importance of-”

“Lae’Zel has been adamant about reaching her crèche for a week now. Let’s start there, and once we have concluded our business at the crèche perhaps we can circle back around,” Tav states evenly, regarding them both with a placid, unmoving eye. 

“But-” Before Shadowheart can finish her sentence, an odd psionic drop punctures the air. Astarion feels the tadpole in his brain twitch with hunger in response to the resonance, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it began.

“Fine,” Shadowheart grumbles. Astarion glances at Karlach who shakes her head in judgment. Tav must have used the tadpole to speak with Shadowheart. Astarion desperately wonders what they said to each other. He doesn’t like this taste of his own medicine.

~

Astarion plunges his dagger into the bloated, writhing body of a hyena. The beast howls as it dies, its rotten child dying in its belly. Wyll unleashes an Eldritch Blast against another dying hyena, but he is too late. A beast springs out of her putrid body, tearing through the soft walls of her abdomen with its claws, bursting into bloody life. The beast rears back, teetering on its newborn legs. It has the head of a dog and the naked body of a man. It tips its head back and howls.

Gnolls. Savage creatures born from unholy hunger. A gnoll could devour the entire continent and still thirst for more.

“Quickly! We need to kill them before they all transform!” Gale yells, launching Magic Missile at another chittering hyena. Their dying bodies lay sprawled across the bottom of the canyon, plump and on the edge of bursting with their foul offspring. 

The last bitch dies, but it is too late. Malicious laughter echoes down the canyon as canine heads peek out from the rocky crags above them, their maws dripping with spit and blood. The rest of the pack looms above them, lying in wait. A crude arrow glances off of Tav’s shoulder and she recoils in pain as their laughter swells in an evil crescendo.

Astarion can smell her blood. He can pick it out, even amongst the gory bouquet. There’s so much carnage that he quivers on the verge of frenzy. 

“Holy hells,” Wyll whispers, pointing to the top of the ridge. A hulking behemoth of a gnoll sits perched at the top of the cliff, watching them with ravenous eyes. She throws her snout back and howls, an answer to the newborn’s cry.

The tadpole squirms behind his eye, connecting Astarion’s mind to his companions in a swooning rush. Gale’s mind is working overtime, suggesting strategy after strategy for how they can survive this while Wyll’s mind focuses on conjuring the Hunger of Hadar. Tav’s mind races, weighing these options. There’s a shock of psychic pain as another presence clamps on to their collective, overpowering in its desperation for meat. It slavers all over itself, longing to be full.

It’s a gnoll. One of them must be infected. He instinctively jerks against the awful presence, pushing back against it. The gnoll’s mind sniffs at him. 

FEAST! it screams. Astarion sees himself from her eyes, a pulsing red cluster of organs. Astarion presses further into her memory and he sees swathes of rich blood as the gnoll daubs the symbol of the Absolute on a cave wall. No….The Voice has forbidden this meat . Her mind plunges into despair when she realizes that he is infected too.

He feels her tadpole squirm, struggling to control her. He reaches for it and glorious power rushes through their connection. He wraps his hand around the insatiable chaos of her mind, clenching it in a tight psionic fist. Astarion forces a horrid thought into the yawning chasm of her brain:

Feast on your pack. Their flesh will be delicious.

Her tadpole rejoices, echoing Astarion’s command. The She-Gnoll unleashes a torrent of hideous laughter as her will splinters and breaks. She turns and lunges at the nearest gnoll, ripping and tearing into her pack-mate. It screams as the rest of the gnolls follow her lead, turning on each other.

“ Ira et Dolor! ” Wyll bellows, and a black icy fog rolls in to cover the murderous beasts.

“Holy shit,” Tav pants, still clutching her injured shoulder.

“Was that your doing, Astarion?” Gale asks. His voice flickers with incredulity and admiration.

“It was!” Astarion giddily cries. Astarion peers through the fog, desperate for glimpses of the fiend. “I simply imposed my will on her.” 

“These powers get more and more impressive by the day,” Gale observes with guarded awe.

The Hunger of Hadar conceals the slaughter, but it does not conceal its sounds. They all listen in silent horror as screams of pain and rage filter out of the mist. They cannot see the wet tearing of flesh and the red splatter of blood, but they can hear the sticky mastication, the satisfied grunts as the gnolls devour each other. The sounds slowly wane as the macabre feast continues until all that is left is the harsh crunching of bones.

It’s horrible, but it’s all his doing. He did this, and she was helpless to stop herself. It’s disgusting, wretched, vile. And yet. His voice was heard. He could not be denied. 

Astarion wonders if this is what Cazador feels when he compels his spawn.

Soon, a shape begins to stir from the depths of the darkness. It looms larger and larger as whatever is left alive slowly lumbers towards them. The She-Gnoll limps out of the gloom, glowering malevolently. They all feel the oppressive throb from her tadpole: she is still hungry.

For a moment, Astarion pities her. Their plights are not so different, in a way. Then he comes to his senses.

Her tongue darts out of her maw, lapping up a chunk of viscera from her whiskers. It lolls out of her mouth, dripping spit. Another ripple of illithid energy violently connects them.

Eat yourself.

Tav’s order is adamantine. The beast’s mind chafes against it, fiercely fighting to survive.

Eat. Yourself.

The gnoll’s mind cracks under the insane command. Unhinged, she tears into her own flesh with a broken scream of pain. Unable to resist the force of Tav’s control, she eats and eats and eats.

“Mystra have mercy,” Gale implores in a horrified whisper. The beast swallows one final time, slumping forward in a dead, bloody heap. “Or, perhaps not.”

Tav stares at the dead gnoll, stunned. “I can’t believe she really did that,” she whispers. 

“These tadpoles are far more powerful than even I had originally thought,” Astarion continues excitedly. He looks towards Tav, who stares dumbfounded at the half-eaten carcass. He grasps her hand, yanking her attention back to him. “Think of the potential. If we can bend other Infected to our will, the possibilities are limitless.” It’s a breathtaking, devastating temptation. He aches for such power.

“The potential here is appealing. While horrifying, it was an intoxicating rush,” Gale agrees. Tav nods silently.

“I won’t begrudge us an edge,” Wyll says. “But lest we forget, these powers come with a cost. Who knows how far downwards this illithid talon will drag us.”

“Must you always rain on our parade!” Astarion gripes, glaring at Wyll. “These gnolls would have devoured any traveler unlucky enough to pass through here. Perhaps even our Tiefling friends. Killing them keeps the Sword Coast safe AND benefits us, I don’t see why we can’t have both.”

“I would do almost anything to keep the Sword Coast safe,” Wyll says quietly.

“Naturally, as would we all,” Astarion agrees with a hand wave. “All I’m saying is that we should keep an open mind about the tadpole.”

“I still can’t believe she did that,” Tav murmurs, still in disbelief. “I wanted to channel her hunger and follow its thread and-” 

“And just look at the result,” Astarion interjects. “It kept us safe, brought us power! You did nothing wrong.”

“It felt-"

There’s a parasite in that corpse. Take it.

They all flinch as a foreign suggestion ripples through them.

“That felt exactly like the person in my dream,” Tav says.

“And mine.”

“Did we all have the same dream?”

“Sounds like it.”

Tav steps over the carcass. A fleshy parasite pulses in the socket of the skull like a fatted leech. She bottles up the rotten prize quickly, slipping it into her bag before ushering them quickly up the road, away from their massacre. 

~

Dark black clouds, the kind that can only mean trouble, billow down the Risen Road and over their heads as they march up the ravine. Astarion wants to ignore it and go back to camp, but Tav, Wyll, and Gale refuse to mind their own business.

Their course is obvious. Screams of terror and anguish drift towards them as they approach the pillar of smoke. Soon they see red, angry flames licking up the walls of a squat, simple building. A squadron of Flaming Fist pound at the barred doors of the inn, ramming their bodies into the slowly splintering door. What are the Fist doing out in the wilderness, so far from Baldur’s Gate?

“Put your back into it! Duke Ravengard is inside!”

“What!? He’s here!?” Wyll immediately bolts forward, nimbly leaping over burning wood and bodies alike. “We have to help him!” He cries, conjuring an Eldritch Blast.

“Stand aside!” Tav screams over the din. The Fist scramble out of the way and Wyll unleashes the blast, destroying the inn’s doors with a crash. Wyll rushes inside immediately, covering his nose and mouth with his arm as he disappears into the flames.

“We have to help!” Tav calls, dashing in after him. Gale follows, waving Astarion inside as he goes. Astarion balks at the roaring flames, the searing heat, the ash raining down on their heads. But as terrible as the fire is, he doesn’t want to be left behind. And there’s probably a reward for helping a Duke. He hurries inside after his foolish companions.

~

Duke Ravengard was not inside, but Councillor Florrick was. The inn had been ambushed in a drow and goblin raid, the Grand Duke carried off like a spoil of war.

Drow and goblins? That sounded familiar. All of them share a look. There’s only one place they could have taken him. Moonrise. 

Councillor Florrick recognizes Wyll immediately despite his newfound horns. Turns out, honest, noble Wyll has been hiding a pretty big secret of his own. Wyll isn’t just the Blade of Frontiers. He is also Wyll Ravengard, son of Ulder Ravengard, the kidnapped Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate.

“And not just a Grand Duke. Ravenguard has more power and influence than anyone,” Astarion observes, envy and admiration coloring his words in equal measure.

A Duke’s son could be the perfect ace up his sleeve. He’d be more than willing to put aside their differences if it meant he could count on the protection of a Duke and his son. 

But a question gnaws at his mind. If Wyll decides to pursue Tav the way he had intimated, would Tav accept his advances? She’d be a fool not to.

Astarion can’t compete with the son of a Duke, even a disowned one. Astarion has no title, no lands, no chattel. His estate is dust and death. His inheritance is a covetous vampire lord, hunting him to the ends of Faerûn. Who in their right mind would choose him when there are many other better options? Or at least, less complicated options.

As they trudge back to camp, Tav peppers Wyll with questions about music lessons, dances, and balls, all the things that bards enjoy. Wyll answers with flushed embarrassment, describing a genteel but adventurous childhood that could have been ripped from the pages of a novel. A knot forms in Astarion’s stomach as he realizes that his days as Tav’s favorite may actually be numbered now.

~

Karlach made dinner that night. She made a simple but hearty meal, the kind a soldier would make: a thick stew with hunks of bread, sausages, and of course, bottles of ale and wine. Astarion doesn’t partake tonight, but he likes to see what the others are eating. And judge their cooking skills accordingly, of course. 

Karlach was a better cook than he had thought. He had expected burnt grilled cheese, but the Fury of Avernus had some surprises up her metaphorical sleeves. 

As he is settling in with a new book, The True and Impossible Adventures of Tenebrux Morrow , Tav meanders over to his tent. There’s a wary, almost guilty look on her face and his heavy stomach sinks even further.

“Mind if I come in?” she asks.

“Of course, my darling,” Astarion responds automatically, closing his novel. He sweeps aside the tent flap for her with a gaudy flourish. “Welcome to my humble abode.” Tav steps inside, hovering nervously by the entrance.

“How are you this evening?” she begins.

“Well enough,” Astarion responds. Tav nods.

“That’s good,” she replies. She fidgets from side to side, silent. One of her hands fiddles with something in her pocket.

“Surely you didn’t come all this way just to exchange pleasantries,” Astarion accuses, annoyed now. If she’s cast him aside for Wyll then he’d rather she just tell him and get this over with.

“You’re right, I did not,” she admits. “It’s just, I’m not really sure how to approach this.” 

“Spit it out. I want to read my book,” he huffs.

Tav pulls her hand out of her pocket and proffers her fist between them. She clutches two vials tightly. Plump, translucent tadpoles squirm behind the cloudy glass.

“I was wondering if you wanted to take a tadpole with me?” She asks. “Embrace our potential. Or, something.”

“My darling, I would love to ‘take a tadpole with you’,” he gushes, all sweetness now.

“We actually have quite a few tadpoles now. But I was thinking we could start small? Try one and see how it goes?”

“Now there’s an idea,” he says, taking a vial. The tadpole inside flares to life, bearing its tiny needle teeth. His lips twist in disgust. “Gods, they are ugly little things.”

“Just awful,” she agrees.

“So, do we just-?”

“I think we have to insert them. Occularly, as Gale would say.”

Astarion stares down at the overgrown leech in his palm. As it roils and wriggles behind the glass, ostensibly trying to find a way into his brain, he becomes less and less sure that this is the right decision. But it’s the only chance he has against Cazador’s control. He clenches his fist around the vial.

“Alright then. Would you like to do the honors, my dear?” he asks, tone light and chivalrous. His mind is made up, but that does not mean he wants to go first.

“Ok, I’ll try,” Tav says. Her fingers tap along the glass bottle.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks again, for what feels like the thousandth time. “Maybe we should wait and see what lies at Moonrise before we insert more incurable worms into our brains.”

“I thought we were in this together, darling,” he says snidely. “But if I’m in this alone, I suppose I’ll just-”

“No, no you aren’t!” Tav insists. “I just…I just need a minute.” Tav smooths her armor down, expelling a long puff of air as she tries to calm herself. Volo had given her a completely new jerkin, a silly thing with flat pearl beads and gold embroidery stitched all along the vest. She wears it well, or as well as anyone can wear something like that.

“I need to stop thinking and just do it,” she assures herself.

“Exactly!”

“Exactly.” 

She uncorks the vial and pinches the suspiciously docile parasite between her fingers. Tilting her head back, she brings it slowly to her eye. The parasite flares in excitement, its teeth seeking flesh, and Tav throws the little pustule to the ground, screaming in disgust. She stomps on the worm with a wet squelch.

“Look what you’ve done!” Astarion angrily exclaims. “It’s all over my tent now!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tav cries. She prestidigitates and the worm guts evaporate, as if they were never there. She rubs her brow. “This is just too gross, I don’t think I can do it.”

“Fine. If you’re too scared, then I’ll just do it myself,” he sneers. This is nothing. Cazador made him do so much worse. He uncorks his vial and grabs the little horror firmly. Before he can stop to reconsider he brings the worm up to his eye. It surges forward out of his grasp and greedily latches onto his eyeball.

It’s the Nautiloid all over again. For a moment he’s back in the Mindflayer’s pod, at its mercy as the worm wriggles relentlessly into his brain. And then Astarion’s mind swells and he feels his brain absorb the tadpole. Everything it was, everything it would have been, is now his. He shudders with satisfaction.

Good. You have grown your power and improved your chance of survival.

Then he feels it: the worm ate something. Something he can’t remember, but something he will never get back.

“Astarion? Are you alright?” Tav asks, concerned.

“I am,” he breathes. He flexes his hands, checking himself for any changes. “And not a tentacle to be seen.”

Oh well. If he can’t remember it then it must not have been that important.

“Are you hurt?” 

“Not at all. In fact, I feel quite good.”

“You didn’t look good,” Tav says. “Your face bulged. You turned blue. I thought you were transforming.”

“Well it felt wonderful. Once you get past the whole eye thing.”

“Really? What did it feel like?”

“It felt like-" Astarion pauses, really considering the question. “Like nothing in the world could stop me.” Tav looks up at him with wide, curious eyes. “Like everything I wanted could be mine.”

“Should I do it?” Tav reaches into her pocket and pulls out another vial. It glistens with cerebrospinal fluid.

“That depends. Do you want the power the tadpole offers?”

“I do, I just-“ She hesitates. “I’m just scared.” Astarion smiles a wide, fanged smile.

“Here, let me help you,” he simpers. He plucks the vial from her hands, uncorking it with finesse and grasping the tadpole firmly between his thumb and index finger. He cups her chin, tilting her face towards him. “All you have to do is look at me.” She gazes unblinkingly up at him as he lays the worm against her eye. The tadpole does the rest.

Tav gasps, recoiling out of his grasp, as the worm tunnels into her brain. She bends over, clutching her mottling face. The veins in her face bulge blue.

“Tav?” he cries, alarmed. She twitches and spasms, and for a terrible moment he thinks he has lost her to the parasite. Then Tav straightens up, panting hard, but still Tav.

“Sweet Hells,” she breathes, inspecting herself.

“And? How do you feel?” he asks.

“Good. Weird, but good,” she realizes.

“I told you so, my little treasure,” Astarion demures. “And this is just the beginning. If one tadpole could make a gnoll eat itself alive, then what could two do? Five? Ten?”

“Let’s see how this new one goes first,” she counters. “There is still a lot we don’t know.”

“You are no fun,” he pouts. “But still, a promising start.” He looks her up and down suggestively on instinct. A small flirtatious crumb for giving him what he wanted. 

“So, it’s getting kind of late,” Tav observes, blushing.

“It is. You should go rest, we have yet another long day ahead of us.” He picks up his book again, thumbing back to where he left off. “I’ll see you in the morning, pet.”

“Can I rest here? With you?” She asks.

“Why?” He asks, skeptically.

“What I meant to say is, did you want to sleep together tonight?” Tav clarifies.

“You’re turned on, after all that worm business?” Astarion asks, his voice thick with judgment. He quickly catches himself. “Well, I suppose-“

“Oh gods no,” she insists. “What I really meant is, do you want to sleep next to each other tonight?”

“And I ask once again, why?”

“Because it was a long, stressful day and this feels nice. Safe.” Tav supplies. She pauses. “Because we like each other.”

Astarion considers saying something snappy and rude. Safe.

“Fine, I’ll allow it.”

~

Tav gathers up her essentials and brings them into his tent. She curls up next to him in his bedroll, close but not touching, as he reads his book. She gives him a long, lingering kiss on his lips and a soft peck on his cheek before turning over and drifting off. When Astarion wakes, he finds that he had curled around her in the middle of the night, his arms wrapped around her abdomen, his legs tangled in hers. Chapter 15: Deserve

[miyku]

[emraev1212]

Wrote a oneshot last night :D

[crocodiller]

Dazed and confused... Rowan took a tumble and might be seeing things

[gaybravado]

rain lily & moonflower

[liorlen]

gale origin playthru from astarion’s pov or smth like that

[f3v3rdreams]

My brain is so big

[kobaldkisses]

Part 5😇

[tsunami-sand]

Act 1 in summary.

[yume-tavriel]

[heph]

Food - Bringing us Together

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

God, the intimacy of Astarion feeding from you.

Astarion drinking from your neck as he pulls your body closer to his in bed, his chest up against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist. It's a casual thing, now, his whispered can I? and your answering nod, as much a part of your bedtime routine as your bath or his curl care. You sigh as his fangs pierce your skin and his fingers flex against your stomach. His breath hitches when the taste of you hits his tongue, and that's familiar too, the physicality of it, the noises he makes low in his throat as he drinks, the way he grows warmer against you as your blood begins to flow through his veins. Nothing else makes you feel so heady, so intoxicated- so comforted.

Astarion drinking from your wrist when he’s starving for it and can’t wait to get you more comfortable. Pulling him into an alleyway one night on the way home from the Elfsong because you can see how badly he's craving in the way he can't keep his eyes off of the pulse point in your neck. He seizes your arm with both hands (can I? Yes-), bringing the soft skin on the inside of your wrist to his lips. He has just enough presence of mind to kiss the heel of your hand distractedly before he bites, fangs sliding through your skin and into the vein. The sound he makes can only be described as a growl, something feral and possessive (and you'll never tell him that it turns you on, since he would be insufferable about it- a promise to yourself that lasts exactly as long as the space between the moment and the next time you're tipsy and want him).

(NSFW Below!)

Astarion drinking from your inner thigh, one hand holding your leg steady and the other cupping your cunt. You groan, eyes shut in pleasure, as his thumb comes to rub your clit. The pain of the bite is barely pain this way- it collides with the pleasure in your belly and sends you almost out of your mind, overwhelmed with sensation and heat. He takes you all the way there, takes just enough from you to have you relaxed and pliant and soaring somewhere above your own body, plays you like an instrument with all the knowledge of you he's gathered over the months, the years. He knows when you're close, knows to crook his fingers inside you just so, knows the reaction he's going to get when he pulls away from your thigh for just a moment and looks up at you with dark eyes and tells you to come for him, he wants to see it, you fall apart so beautifully and it's all for him, isn't it, tell him how good he makes you feel and when you climax with his voice in your ear and the scent of blood on the air he has the audacity to laugh at how well he understands you, your body.

He's soft, after, softer than he'll ever be with anyone who isn't you. He licks you clean before he takes you to the bath, carrying you with the strength your lifeblood gives him. It's the least he can do for you, with everything you've given him: not just your body, but your trust, your closeness, and he will never stop being grateful.

[rookamell]

I think people are not understanding that to get Astarion’s approval up you don’t have to be mean you just have to be chaotic. The man is a toddler let loose off his leash for the first time in 200 years he doesn’t care about being mean he cares about being funny

[thelikesoffinn]

„Astarion ending as the Vampire Ascendant is the correct ending for him, because it is what he wants.”

That is a claim I’ve been seeing pop up more and more often these days. And I think it’s both a very bold and a very odd claim to make.

But first things first: Hello, I’m a licensed social worker! So far, I’ve worked with children, refugees and youths with behavioural issues stemming from bullying and or abuse.

Please be aware that I will be mentioning different kinds of abuse, coping mechanisms, and victim/abuser relationships. If any of this is difficult for you, don’t force yourself through it. My jabbering about a traumatised vampire is not worth your wellbeing, not ever.

I will, however try to stick to Astarion and not use other examples. If, in any case, I do use a non-Astarion example, I’ll add a warning beforehand so that you can skip the part. And I’ll make it clear what will be discussed in the next bit, so that you have a chance to skip it entirely.

This is an effort to make this as accessible as possible for everyone that wants to indulge on a mad woman’s rambling – and I know there’s a few people that like this sort of stuff!

And, uh, there's obviously spoilers for all three acts. Serious spoilers, even.

Before I can get into the whole ‘why Astarion didn’t really want to ascend,’ we need to understand him a little more. And to understand this pretty boy’s brain, we first need to understand the gist of what we’re talking about when we throw around the word ‘abuse.’

“Abuse” is when someone is treated with cruelty, violence, or neglect – often to bad effect – on a regular basis. Repetitively. Check’s out for Astarion, I’d say, but we all knew that already. I mean, if one thing was obvious, it was this.

1. Astarions Abuse

Next we need to look at what kind of abuse Astarion faced over his long years of torment, seeing as different types of abuse will have different effects on the victim.

Not that that is anything we have to worry about with him – Astarion won the abuse lottery, to put it bluntly. In a horrible game of fate, he got everything. He himself indirectly mentions all the types of abuse he faced, albeit never using the correct terms.

The first we properly notice – fitting, seeing as it is often the most obvious form of abuse – is the physical abuse. Astarions scars are probably the biggest tell Larian could shove down our throats, only underlined by Astarion’s tale about the night itself. About how Cazador ‘misspelled something’ every time he flinched or screamed and had to do ‘many corrections. On top of this, Cazador locked Astarion up for months on end and tortured him – or had him tortured – on a regular basis both as a rite and as a punishment.

Next up, we have the fact that Astarion was forced to basically prostitute himself repeatedly. This is what we call sexual exploitation.

“I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master.” – Act 2

Two hundred years is a long time, filled with great many people. Now, we don’t know how many of those people actually tapped into the sexual exploitation and how many he could just lure back with other means, but the fact that it happened a lot is undeniable.

Next we have a form of abuse that we often disregard in adults: Neglect. It sounds odd, I know, saying that a fully grown adult was neglected. They can care for themselves, can they not?

Well. Yes and no.

Adult neglect is proceeded by the condition that one adult has to lean on another adult to fulfil their needs for whatever reason. This could be anything, from disability to income-based issues.  

Seeing as Astarion had absolutely nothing, while Cazador had everything, we can assume this was the case. Cazador had the house, the money, the power. Astarion owns but one pair of clothes, assumedly, that he has fixes over and over again. Fair to say, that’s pretty neglectful. (And it’s one more reason to shower the guy in pretty armour and camp clothes. Go ham, people.)

Last we have the form of abuse we actually get to witness later in the game – emotional abuse.

Once again, it’s undeniable that this happened. Especially since we’re all seeing it in the flesh upon meeting Cazador in his crypt.

“Have you no respect for yourself?”

“I strove for perfection in all things. Even those as imperfect as you.”

“A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts.”

“A pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything.”

All Act 3, Crypt

Here we have just a few examples of things Cazador throws in his face. It’s like reading a textbook on emotional abuse, this one (and it’s definitely a reason to throw hands).

Blaming the victim, keeping their sense of self and their self-worth as tiny as possible to make them cower and flee. A true classic.

This pretty much shows that Astarion suffered all forms of abuse we commonly see and it is implied – once again by Astarion himself – that at least a few of those instances were ritualistic.

Now, what does that mean exactly? Well, I fear I need to use a real example here, so please skip the next paragraph.

Ritualistic doesn’t refer to a proper ritual – it can, but that’s mostly a thing for those in a cult. So, we’re not necessarily talking about a ‘Vampire Ascendent Ritual’. A husband, beating his wife every evening after his third bottle of beer is also called ritual abuse. It happens regularly. It is part of a routine. Both parties know what will happen.

I can’t find the exact quote, so I’m working of my memory here, but at one point he said that when Cazador invited him to eat and he said yes, he would be served a putrid rat. If he said no, he’d be beaten.

The way it was phrased made it clear that it happened more than once and that Astarion clearly knew what would happen. So, this can be classified as ritualistic abuse.

2. A Note on Conditioning and Compliance

By default, abuse victims are conditioned to behave a certain way or in a certain fashion. This is a natural response to avoid further abuse.

In Astarion, the thing we see most often is his inherent need to please. Not literally, he doesn’t mind being an arsehole. But he initially feels the need to follow Tav’s orders, even if they go against his own wishes.

This can be clearly seen in the conversation with Araj Oblodra. Astarion very clearly doesn’t want to bite her. He doesn’t. But he will do so, if Tav tells him to. This behaviour is not conscious – he doesn’t know why he does it, he just does – and it is to be expected. This is how he kept himself save for two centuries, so of course he will fall back into his usual pattern when the pressure is high.

This goes hand in hand with the fact that most abuse victims don’t fight. Maybe initially, but not after long term abuse. Especially not after two fucking centuries.

This is true in Astarion – offered by his ‘siblings’ during act 3 and unhappily acquiesced by the man himself. Astarion stopped fighting and, once again implied, cowered, and did as he was told in order to survive.

3. The Astarion we know and love

Obviously, all that abuse does have an impact on our vampire boyfriend. He shows various common signs of abuse and just like with the forms of abuse, Astarion raked every coping mechanism he could find. (Not really, but it feels like it.) It’s also important to note that nearly all of the following things happen inwardly. Astarion is not one of the victims, that tries to rationalise and minimise the actions of his abuser. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ll note from the beginning, that rationalisation will not be covered in this bit, as most examples will be important later on. But he definitely does it.

One of his biggest skills is to hide every ounce of fear or hurt behind sarcasm and snarky theatrics. He doesn’t seem to hide his anger much, though, so that’s something! Our boy is cool with anger, not so much with being afraid.

“Ahahaha, now that you mention it….I might have done…that.” – Act 3, regarding the Gur children

“The thing that will decide my fate forever more? Yeees, it’s been on my miiiind. Why?” – Act 2, regarding the Ritual

And there’s many more instances that prove this. Honestly, half his dialogue is sarcasm, so it would really be too long to get into and we all know what I mean, right? We have alltalked to the guy before. It’s obvious that he’s sarcastic to a fault.

This goes hand in hand with his penchant for defensiveness. I would personally state that he’s simply not really good with guilt. When talking about fear, he usually just opts for sarcasm or avoids the topic completely, but guilt especially has his defences going up. This is also when he’s most likely to shove all the blame off to Cazador.

“Don’t look at me like that. Cazadors orders.” – Act 3, Crypt

“I just did what I had to!” – Act 3, Crypt

And don’t get me wrong, he does that anyway. And with good reason. Astarion didn’t have a choice for the most part, but he’s still easy to shove things off.

This kind of connects to his penchant for denial.

Astarion doesn’t really like to talk about most things. He firmly believes he is an ‘action’ sort of person that just does instead of plans, which invertedly just means he’s great at pushing the thinking stuff away. He also likes to get rid of stuff, so that he doesn’t need to face it ever again.

“I never want to see these little scraps of misery again. The world doesn’t need to know my shame.” – Act 3, about the children

And yes, this partly rings true. He’s probably ashamed and doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s done. But it’s also very clear that he himself simply doesn’t want to face his own actions, something that is just  underlined by his extreme willingness to red rid of the other spawn.

As mentioned by Astarion himself, he’s big on manipulation. I mean, I don’t think there is much explaining necessary. The guy is willing to do a whole lot in order to get what he desires – which mostly revolves around safety and survival, to be honest – and he’s not really shy about it either. And that’s despite the fact that he doesn’t really like intimacy – especially in form of sex.

It’s not a secret that Astarion is not big on sex and anything surrounding it. This goes far enough for people to consider him either ace or ace coded.

A claim that, personally, I’m not super in line with.

Now, it’s not entirely wrong and if this is your head cannon I’m surely not going to stand in your way – but on a larger spectrum, I think he’s more traumatised than ace. And while those go hand in hand sometimes, it’s a bit difficult for the ace community if you attach traumatised characters to them because it can fuel a whole lot of stigma that is honestly neither needed nor wanted. But I digress!

If it comes to his own behaviour, he’s great at minimising his mistakes. Honestly, he’s a master of minimisation. A very obvious and famous example would be:

“’Killed’ feels like a…strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour.” – Act 1, after killing Tav

Astarion. You literally sucked poor Tav dry and left them flopping around, cold, and dead. Killed is exactly the right word and we all know it.

“Quite the deviation from my usual routine. Capture, not lure. I didn’t bring them in with sweet rolls or anything.” – Act 3, Gur Children

This is another attempt at minimising what he did, if a bit less obvious because at this point there isn’t much he can say. But at least he didn’t sexualise the gur children, right? They’re still spawn but whoo, at least that didn’t happen.  

The next point would be dissociation, which is extremely common in abuse victims – of all forms of abuse.

Astarion himself mentioned certain moments that could be classified as dissociation over course of the story, which is probably the coping mechanism I personally expected the most.

The pale elf has a penchant for violence, but he’s not entirely shameless or abhorrently vile, which gets clearer the more the story progresses. So, two hundred years of forced prostitution, torture and doing whatever other horrible things? Yeah, I’d be more surprised if he didn’t dissociate.

Examples of that would be:

“A moment of disgust to push myself through and then I could’ve carried on, just like before.” – Act 2, after Araj

“I felt nothing the moment I handed them over.” – Act 3, Gur Children

“Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there.” – Act 1, Tav after Sex

The latter is generally more of an assumption than actual prove, but with context it does make sense.

The last common sign of abuse we find in our boyfriend would be his low self-worth. It’s a consistent trait that stays over the course of all three acts, noticeable in many different conversations.

We can see it in his reaction to wanting to break up before finishing his story. We can see it in his genuine surprise when Tav picks him over any of the other characters. We see it in his insecurity whenever Tav asks to sleep with another character. He’s fine with it, but he still worries their decision to sleep with someone else is based on something he did.

It eases up ever so slightly after Cazador is dead, but even then he’s still struggling which is once again perfectly illustrated if you try to break up with him.

“Oh shit. I- Did I do something wrong?”

That is the first thing he asks and I think it speaks for itself. He genuinely doesn’t believe he has much to offer and for Astarion, it’s likely that Astarion will always be the problem.

4. "Oh, I tried them all none of them answered.”

Another big thing that’s important to note, is that Astarion was never saved. No one came to save him from Cazador. There was no darling boy on a white steed riding into that castle to rescue him and princess carry him away. Not even the gods answered his desperate calls.

So, he never received any kindness or luck. To him, the world seems as cruel and horrid as before because he didn’t have the chance to experience goodness in two centuries.

But worse than that, he didn’t even get to save himself. Astarion didn’t stand up to Cazador, he didn’t run out of his own might.

He was beaten to near death and ‘saved’ by Cazador, who would become his abuser.

He tried to save someone and, in turn, was locked up and starved for an entire year.

He was abducted by mind flayers, i.e., saved from Cazador, only to end up tadpoled and on the cusp of getting a fancy, squiddy beard.

Anything that’s good, any kindness, any selfless action…it all came with a ginormous price tag.

5. Over the Course of the Story

Astarions behaviour changes a whole lot over the course of three acts – which is important once we talk about his quests climax – so let’s review what we’re working with!

Act 1 Astarion is guarded as fuck. The man has walls around him that are so high, even the gods can touch them.

A lot of his behaviour in act 1 revolves around staying save and staying liked. He lies, manipulates, and flutters his lashes in order to get what he wants and needs. Instead of asking, like Wyll, Karlach and Gale do, Astarion uses all he has to offer to get by. He is still very much in survival mode and tries to weasel his way through an unfamiliar situation with familiar methods.

On top of that, and most notably, he’s absolutely not fond of kindness or selflessness.

#I saved a child and now my boyfriend is mad

Here, we are most likely to gain disapproval for doing the decent thing – unless you sent him outside for a minute whenever you’re being a good person.

And I’d assume that this is because of two things.

First: The very traditional ‘Why not me?’

As I mentioned before, Astarion wasn’t saved. He hasn’t experienced kindness in a very long time so seeing that the world is literally filled with kind people is hurtful. Why didn’t anyone save him? Why was he left to his own devices for so long? Why should he care about others when it’s so clear that no one ever cared about him? No, dead to all of them. If he didn’t get it, neither will they.

“And what am I owed? What about the injustices I suffered? Am I not entitled to anything?” – Act 3, Crypt

“I was in the prime of my life when I was turned. Everything was taken from me too.” – Act 3, Crypt

And secondly is the fact that, as I mentioned, goodness always has a price. And it’s one most people won’t be willing to pay. That’s how his life has been, so why would theirs be different?

This is precisely why Astarion may disapprove of kind actions, but he mostly neither approves nor disapproves if Tav asks for payment. That’s just how the world works.

Once you venture out into act 2, after getting to know him a whole lot more, he starts to mellow a bit – if only towards Tav.

“He’s afraid, so afraid, of everyone but you, who she should fear the most.” – Sceleritas about Astarion

His approval is a lot easier to gain – or at least keep! – and he tends to approve of some more proper actions. He doesn’t throw a fit if you promise to find Mol, he approves of Tav being kind to His Majesty, of saving Aylin and he even approves of Durge apologising to Isobel after threatening to rip her to pieces.

He's slowly starting to open up, allowing Tav to see some parts of him he previously kept hidden. He accepts their offer to help, if hesitantly and, by god, the man starts experimenting with boundaries.

The social worker in me is shedding tears at this. It’s my favourite thing to see in my clients and it’s no different here. Yay to saying no!

Of course, it’s still a bit hit or miss. If Tav urges him to bite Araj, for example, he will only to later notice that he didn’t fucking have to. He recognises this on his own and he calls Tav out on it. Just like he calls them out on not helping him with his Orthon quest.

Good job, chap. Good fucking job.

And the growth-train won’t stop going even as we reach act 3.

In act 3, there’s not many things he disapproves as of right now – those he does, mostly have to do with how Tav treats him and not with anyone else. In fact, he’s more likely to approve good behaviour now, like giving Yenna food or money.

And yes, we need to consider that this could simply be because he gets used to Tav’s behaviour and just learns to roll with it. But it’s also highly likely that he notices that there’s truly good people around. At least one person. And that person is not only good, no, they’re in the process of helping him break free once and for all.

They’re helping him save himself.

By act 3, he has learned that he can absolutely say his piece where Tav is concerned and he’s more likely to disagree with them on certain things. It’s seen during a lot of small dialogue that he’s no longer terribly afraid to be honest with them, willing to listen and talk and he’ll ask for help if he needs it.

“I can do this. But I need your help.” – Act 3, Crypt

Something that can be viewed both positively and negatively is that he’s definitely loyal to a fault. He will stick by Tav’s side, no matter what.

“I really hoped we could avoid being pawns for a dark god, but here we are, I suppose. I’m with you, my dear, wherever this might lead.” – Act 3, After Jaheira confronts durge

As I said, this can be both positive and negative. On one count, it’s a recipe for disaster, seeing as he could be waltzing into a really bad situation for Tav alone.

But on the other side…this is a man who only cared about himself because that is the only person he could afford to care about. He needed to survive. He now has enough room to breathe and the capacity to care for someone else and I’d be inclined to count that as a good thing.

6. The Crypt

All the progress he made in act 2 and 3 is nearly tossed into the wind as soon as the crew enters Cazadors castle.

It’s not an immediate thing, of course.

At first, Astarion tries to stay light and simple and he hides behind flippant tones and relaxed faces. The way he recounts this is almost comically disinterested and the façade is actually quite good.

It’s start’s cracking after we meet Godie, one of the people who tortured him on more than one account, but he mostly manages to remain as upbeat as one can honestly expect for the first half of the journey.

All that, however, is done for the very moment we meet Sebastian. His mask not only slips, no, it full on shatters and there’s none of his apparent lightness left.

Which, of course it does.

The man is suddenly faced with years and years and years of victims. Innocent, unlucky people he lured back to his master over two centuries. People he liked, people he pitied.

“It’s sickening, seeing them again.”

It’s basically a room filled with guilt, exclusively for Astarion. And, as we mentioned before…Astarion is not great with guilt.

The guilt, however, is not where it ends.

No, he’s also faced with reflections of his own past. The spawn pose as reminders of what he did, sure, but also as reminders of what he was.

Weak, desperate, hungry.

There’s an abundance of images of his worst moments, reflected back at him in the thousands. It’s probably like staring into a funhouse mirror, but instead of seeing yourself in a funky way he just sees everything he so desperately doesn’t want to be.

“It should be [who I am]! I don’t want to be like them. They’re pathetic, horrible…”

He’s forcefully made aware of how darn weak he can be, which claws at all the wounds he’s barely had time to close. Something, he of course won’t admit if asked.

“THEY DO NOT [remind me of myself]. That weakness in me is dead, IT’S DEAD. I have a higher purpose.”

The high pressure of the moment brings out all of his act 1 traits in but a few moments. You can pretty much watch how he starts to shut down mid conversation, one of his old walls snapping back into place to remove himself from the situation.

Thing is though, walls usually become a bit brittle after disuse. Especially when talking to a person you don’t usually want to wall out.

Or, in his case, when talking to Tav.

After meeting Sebastian, Astarion shows extreme reactions to Tav nudging any of his weak spots. His reaction varies on whatever choice you make, but it ranges from aggression to defensiveness, to denial and even to downright begging Tav.

“Don’t hate me. I just did what I had to. I swear I did what I had to.”

This probably the most shocking out of all of them, since that is not something we got to witness before. The begging is likely a mixture of intense fear of losing Tav, his low self-esteem and pre-Tav behaviour, since we can assume that Cazador made him beg more than once.

Another old coat he puts back on would also be the least surprising of them all.

Manipulation.

He falls right back into it, using Tav’s affection to get what he want if we trigger the right action.

“If they die and I ascend, I won't have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I'll be free. Truly completely free. Isn't that what you want?”

This, to me, was probably the biggest tell that Astarion was back in survival mode. He’s panicking, for fucks sake, and who can blame the guy? He’s back. He’s about to face down his abuser.

Of course he’s fucking panicking.

Panic leads to an increased craving for safety and, in his case, power. This is why he clings to Tav, why he begs them to love him still. And this is why he jumps head first into the rationalisation pool.

“I will need to sacrifice them all if I want to perform the ritual. - [You can save them.] – What’s the point? They're as good as dead! I thought they were dead. If they are unleashed, they will cause incredible carnage. […] They must die. Better they serve a purpose.”

Another textbook example.

They must die anyway. They’re basically dead. No need to save them now. They’re dangerous, I’m doing the right thing by sacrificing them. I already thought they were dead, so it’s not changing anything for me. They’re a lost cause and I deserve  all this power. I deserve it, because I suffered and nothing will change if they die.

So, seeing as we already spoke about his usual behaviour in act 3 – behaviour he showed after we allowed him to breathe and be himself for a while – I think we can fairly easily conclude he’s not thinking straight.

Astarion is right back in survival mode, where all that matters is he himself. If it weren’t for the seven thousand spawns, he might have moved through this more gracefully, but seeing those tipped the scales and Astarion is absolutely losing it.

Remember that for the last section, per favore.

7. The Ascension

“Astarion wants to ascend and Tav manipulates him into doing what they want.”

That is basically the essence of what people often claim and I can’t help but shake my head at such a blatant disregard of everything he has become. This is completely ignoring the change and growth he has gone through over the course of their journey.

Astarion wants to be free. He wants to be safe. That does not mean he wants to ascend.

And the claim that Tav manipulates him into doing anything is even more baffling. We are all aware that Tav is not manipulative by nature, yes? That is entirely on you. You decide who your Tav is.

And then let’s remember: Astarion is panicked. He’s afraid and he’s not thinking straight. His abuser is on his knees before him and he still feels so weak. And there’s seven thousand spawns that need handling.

Astarion is very much not okay right now.

In fact, reading his thoughts just proves this theory.

“You can see the fear in his eyes but also the hunger. The thick smell of blood in the air and the promise of power being so close is intoxicating to him. All he can see is the power of the ritual and the freedom that power brings. The freedom to do anything. To be anything.”

Tav, however, has none of those problems. They can actually see beyond the current situation and they are fully aware what the consequences are. Astarion is not. As we previously established, Astarion is a doer. Not a thinker. He didn’t think this through, not at all.

The only thing Tav is doing – the persuasion roll – is reminding him of the very real consequences he is facing. The consequences he hasn’t thought about before.

"I know you think this will set you free, but it won't. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador."

And that is the kindest thing Tav could do in this situation. They’re not bodily dragging him away from Cazador. They’re not even telling him to not do it. They’re just offering him the truth. He can do with that information whatever he desires.

“Astarion cries when he doesn’t ascend, that just shows that it was the wrong choice.”

A hare-brained point that I thankfully have only seen once so far.

That crying? That is healthy crying.

That is him, crumbling under the stress that suddenly dissipates. That is him mourning two hundred years of torment. That’s him letting out feelings he hasn’t been able to for centuries.

And, for the love of god, try to put yourself in his shoes.

Two hundred years of torment, ended in but a moment.

Astarion was abused and tortured for so long, afraid for so long only to see his tormentor die just like that.

Cazador died within a moment and all Astarion needed was a darn blade. Of course he fucking cries.

Seeing how pathetic a being the very core of your life’s misery actually is hurts. It hurts like hell because not only are you finally free – free! – no, you’re faced with the fact that this pile of nothing, the thing that’s bleeding out right in front of you…this was what tortured for so long.

This thing hurt you so much. That guy took everything from you, everything you once were, and broke it again and again and again over years.

You were so scared of this thing.

And yet he has the gall and the gumption to die just like that.

It was so easy.

And yet you suffered for so long.

8. Evil Playthrough?

An evil playthrough is really a different setting altogether.

All of this, as you can probably tell, is really only applicable on a good playthrough. Realistically speaking. I’m not sure how the game mechanics handle it.

On an evil path, Astarion never really gets to experience kindness and goodness. Evil Tav will just prove him right in his believe that the world is a vile and cold place, meaning that he realistically would be more inclined to actually want to ascend.

9. Final Conclusion

I think all of this should be enough to make it clear that no, ascended Astarion is not the best ending for the guy. In fact, it is probably the worst. Because it’s just him, running away. He’s running into a lonely and cold state of being, where cruelty and power lord over everything else and he’s running because he’s terrified of being hurt again. He’s running despite desperately wanting to stop running.

“I'll spend the rest of my life running watching the shadows, never feeling safe…no, this has to happen. Here and now.”

And, the worst part is: Nothing about Astarion is left after he ascends. Even his tone of speaking gradually changes, his theatrics fading. He’s slowly losing himself, until there’s nothing but an evil caricature left.

So, in the end, ascension will have proven him right.

That version of him is dead.