#because I think it would take some time for Astarion to ease into the idea of having platonic skinship

[berryless]

"What, want me to ruffle your feathers?" Tav asked with a smirk when she caught him staring, as if she didn't ruffle enough of his feathers prior to this moment—figuratively speaking, most unfortunately.

The owlbear's cub sprawled on its stomach beside her, head on her lap as it was cooing something. Given how eagerly it butted into her hand, rather obvious what it was after.

He took a step back, arms raised as he refused, "I'll abstain for tonight. Afraid the competition's too fierce for me to win this fight without any losses. Tomorrow, though…"

He let some hope into his voice, tone laced thick with promise.

Astarion looked at Tav, waiting for her answer, and she nodded to him with a smile on her lips.

"Wonderful. I'll be awaiting then. Most eagerly."

So easy.

Too easy.

He should've known better, but perhaps he was momentarily blinded that she'd finally given up keeping her distance.

Tav played with his hair for a good part of the evening, and Astarion tolerated it—the experience was quite enjoyable, if he was to be honest, but those weren't headpats that he was after. Finally the time came to take the heavy weapons against her, those that he was most proficient at using. Those that hardly ever betrayed him. And he needed Tav to not betray him either. To protect him, when hardly anyone in the camp was terribly happy about having a vampire in their midst. If Cazador… When Cazador… Even though Astarion didn't need to breathe anymore, the air staled in lungs when he thought about this. He needed Tav—and everyone else she have eating out of the palm of her adorable little hand—to stay on his side when that happens. Because as convenient as it may've been, out of many advantages the worm gave him, making his master forget about his existence wasn't one of them.

Her fingers raked his hair and scratched his scalp, sending him into shivers as Astarion couldn't help but lower his guard a notch. He wasn't an inexperienced youngling, still wet behind his ears. He wouldn't miss the change in her touch when it was most familiar to him. It would be rather convenient for Tav to hold his neck or slide her fingers under the lacing of his shirt, so Astarion expected that. Ears too were a good starting point… Lips, perhaps, if she was feeling adventurous for a sharp touch of his fangs…

He turned to the side, forehead pressed against Tav's stomach to let her get to the back of his head. Then turned again, face buried in her lap.

As tedious the pointless waiting went, this kind of foreplay was not without its pleasures. If she were to continue fondling the rest of him in same manner, Astarion wouldn't mind much. If anything, the thought was getting him rather excited, albeit weary in a similar way any kind of sex did. But it was familiar kind of wear he was most used to, so Astarion was slipping into it with ease like one would into old boots they've long been donning. Perhaps the heels were stooped a bit from years of use, and the laces were frayed and brittle, but those were the boots he'd worn for as long as he could remember. He didn't have a spare, if there even existed a spare the likes of him could afford.

Finally Tav's hand stopped, resting on his neck as she barely moved her big finger against the edge of his hairline.

He knew it was coming, and yet a part of him was strangely disappointed.

Well, no point dwelling on it.

Finally it was his turn to…

"Think I'm spent for the evening. My hand's cramping. Want to lie down for a little while longer, or you'd prefer to rest on something more comfortable than my lap?"

Her question came most unexpectedly. At first Astarion thought he heard it wrong. But when he raised his head to check Tav's face, there was nothing special on it, like she was asking something mundane, barely worth of notice. And it was a rather mundane thing to ask. If you weren't expecting anything else to follow.

She wasn't.

It stunned him when Astarion realized that.

Thankfully it lasted barely a moment, and then his instincts kicked in.

"Why? I find your lap a rather enjoyable place to rest my head on."

'It would be even better if you were to let me put it between your legs, but I suppose I wouldn't get much rest then,' was supposed to follow, but somehow it got stuck in his throat. He couldn't even say why at first.

Because she wasn't flirting. Because it wasn't foreplay. Because she just offered to ruffle his feathers in a most simple, primitive, childish way possible, and never planned to stretch the invitation to something more salacious and titillating.

Ruffled his feathers she did.

With much too fervor.

Astarion hardly remembered the way he traveled back into his tent and what he said in the process. Surely it was something appropriate for the occasion, he could trust the habits beaten into his skull by years of use.

No wonder she agreed so easily. He must've been blind not to notice.

He laid down, curled into a ball, sulking—for what, Astarion couldn't tell.

Perhaps it irked him that his plans fell through, and the cooked duck flew away from his mouth when he was so close to biting into it. What else could've been the issue otherwise?

But most strangely, a tightness in his stomach loosened as soon as he was left alone. He breathed with ease, warm ticklish touch of Tav's fingers lingering on his skin.

Safe.

From what..?

He didn't know.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Okay so thought would Astarion just be uber happy if tav is just clinging to him and is like let me stay here where it is safe for just a little longer pleaseee

I think I'm feeling the energy. And it's an actual drabble instead of a novel! Cw: In-game references, spoilers, but this is just some fluffy fluff fluff.

~

When Astarion made the decision to seduce you, it had been based in cold rationality. In the short time he had known you, you had proven to be intelligent, capable, attractive enough for sex to not feel like a total burden, and extremely hard to kill. Using a falsified relationship to wrap you around his finger was the easy choice for survival. And it did work, with varying results.

Because you provided many, many complications. Like the unfortunate reality that Astarion quickly had grown sincerely fond of you. Not only were you impressively competent, you were fun. Hilariously bitchy in a way that never failed to make him laugh. But you were still kind, kind in a meaningful way that Astarion was simply not used to.

It had felt like a shock when you were so adamant about his right to be his own person. When you didn't make him bite that drow cretin he was struck with the realization that you actually cared about him. What that thing had been offering in return would no doubt have been useful to your journey, but you didn't even give it a second thought. And Astarion wouldn't soon forget how you saying, "He said no," with so much conviction had sent a shiver up his spine.

Perhaps the whole event sent him into a tailspin that ended with him admitting his, in-hindsight, horrible plan, but it had been worth it in the end. Gods knows why, but you didn't abandon him when he revealed the truth. You just listened. You listened and opened up your mind for him to see just how much you cared for him. A care he perhaps didn't deserve, but one he would take. Even if he had no idea what the two of you were doing anymore.

But he did know that something shifted in your relationship after that, the birth of a new kind of trust. Apparently, Astarion hadn't been the only one holding back.

Because seemingly overnight, you got a lot more touchy. A facet of yourself that he really had not seen coming. Not sexually, no. You had been nothing but a dream when it came to understanding the hang-ups he had with that particular topic. But you did suddenly decide that you loved holding hands. You loved hugging him, for no reason at all. The two of you went from the occasional night together before parting ways to simply sharing a tent. And gods were you a cuddler. Every morning he would wake up with you wrapped around him, peaceful and at ease as you slept in his arms.

And... it was nice. Really, really nice. Astarion had always assumed that he would loathe being with someone who was so tactile. But it turned out when every little touch wasn't leading to mediocre and/or horrifying sex they were actually quite enjoyable. It felt good to have you so close, to know that you felt safe and comfortable with him of all people. Nice enough for Astarion to slowly get addicted to it. He wasn't quite sure when his favorite past time became reading while you laid on top of him, but he knew it claimed to top spot with startlingly speed.

Even now, with Cazador still looming, the tadpoles still squirming behind your eyes, worries and responsibilities abound, Astarion felt completely at peace. He was laying flat on his back on his bed roll, a book in one hand and the other carefully petting your hair as you dozed off; your body completely draped over him. He'd have to wake you sooner than later. Baldur's Gate was only a day's journey away now, and if you wanted to make it there before nightfall then everyone would have to get moving. He could already hear the sound of the others shuffling about.

He snapped his book shut, setting it to the side before he gently shook you, "It's time to rise and shine darling, Baldur's Gate won't be saving itself."

You mumbled as you buried your face into his chest, your words slurred, "Don't wanna. Too early."

That was another change with this newfound phase of trust. Astarion had become the only person who knew your little secret of not being a morning person. In the first few moments of wakefulness, you were at your clingiest, your whiniest, surprisingly your most honest, and arguably your most adorable state of the day. A fact that you actively hid from the rest of the group out of sheer embarrassment, but Astarion thought it was cute.

Not to mention that it made him feel special, oddly enough. That he was the only one who was allowed to see you like this; who could take care of you like this.

Astarion laughed at your response, "Tell that to the sun sweetheart. It's high-time we got going."

Despite his own words, he wasn't really doing much to move the process along. If anything he was hindering it when he wrapped his arms around you, only helping to make you more comfortable instead of less.

But then again, maybe he wasn't quite ready to let you go yet either.

You shook your head against him, your hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt, "Le'mme stay, just a little longer."

"That's easy for you to say when you're not the one to get Lae'zel's wrath," Astarion lightly argued, still making no moves to actually hurry this process along. But it was true, Lae'zel always blamed your lateness on him, her favoritism towards you blatantly obvious. The bitch. But at least she was a bitch with good taste, "I would prefer not to be murdered by a gith for being tardy."

But you were already back to being half-asleep, your internal filter completely disintegrated as you mumbled, "Feels safe here, with you. Don't wanna let it go yet. Please?"

Gods, how the in the nine hells was Astarion supposed to say no to that? He didn't. Instead the grip he had on you only tightened, the happy little sigh you let out at the movement striking him straight through the heart. He felt so... happy in that moment, through nothing more than the simplicity of holding you. Because you trusted him. You felt safe with him, which might as well have been a love confession in Astarion's world. It felt so good to have this, an intimacy that he'd been denied for centuries.

Astarion settled back, letting his own eyes close as he smiled. The others would get the two of you eventually, but until then he wasn't going anywhere. No, the two of you would be staying right here.

[leighsartworks216]

Prompt for whenever you want it: the reader grew up in a household where she wasn't allowed to be very feminine/like cute things. Her family was adamant that she be tough and that anything remotely feminine or pretty would be wasted on her. So she secretly likes cute and pretty things, but has internalized all the things her family told her so she never let's it show. I would love to see astarion pick up on it and how he would react? I just imagined one day he presents her with a delicate handkerchief with her initials (he embroidered them himself) and I practically bawled my eyes out 😭😭😭

Idk why I really struggled to write this one. I just had a hard time starting it. So I'd write an opening, hate it, leave it for a bit, come back, leave it again. But I finally got it to a point that I am happy with it

Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader

Warnings: vague references to trauma, self-doubt, swearing

Word Count: 1,041

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

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One gets quite good at reading people when that’s all you did for 200 years. Someone would twitch and Astarion could know exactly what they were thinking. Reading you was as easy as opening a book.

Every time you passed a market or merchant, Astarion could see the way your eyes flit longingly over jewelry or dresses. It was always brief. If the vendor noticed, they’d try pitching the item to you; the same old lines: “A beautiful necklace for a beautiful lady!” But you just smiled politely and shook your head, muttering how it wasn’t your style.

It was curious. Throughout your journey so far, he’d noticed other things, too. How you’d save the most beautiful, feminine dresses for your female companions. At first he just thought you wanted to give them something nice, but it was odd when you’d provide them an item much more suited to your strengths than their own. How your eyes would linger a little longer on flowers and lace gloves. But the moment you felt eyes on you, you’d turn away, the distant longing gleam in your eye replaced with a set determination.

He’d even caught you staring at the embroidery on his clothes once or twice.

(“Distracted, are we?”

“I was only wondering what it says. An odd poem for a shirt.”

“Hmph. Clearly it’s meaning is lost on you, darling.”)

So, with 200 years of experience, Astarion came to the only conclusion he could plausibly find. He accounted for your own attire - masculine or purely functional - your steadfast avoidance of anything feminine, the sorrow that visibly washed over you when you came across something particularly beautiful.

You didn’t allow yourself these things, because you couldn’t.

Well, you could, he supposed. But you weren’t. Perhaps, like him, you felt you didn’t deserve it. Or perhaps, like him, it had been ingrained into your very being that you couldn’t have it. Either way, the result was the same.

He wasn’t honestly sure what came over him when he realized. And it had taken him a few days to think about the idea that formulated unbidden, itching at the back of his mind in a way that put the tadpole to shame. But one night, after feeding (on you and a boar), he sat within his tent and got to work. He threaded the eyes of needles with practiced ease, steadily guided it back and forth through the material in his hands, creating elegant shapes. If he was being honest, it was some of his best work.

It took him even longer to gather the nerves to give it to you. You handed out gifts freely - armor, weapons, trinkets, blood. But he’d… well, he’d never really given anyone a gift before. Nothing as genuine as this, certainly. His mind, his own worst enemy aside from Cazador, kept plaguing him with thoughts of how you’d hate it. How you’d take one look at it, struggle through a smile, and tuck it away at the bottom of your bag. And so it remained in his belongings, safely hidden.

And then you just had to go and be so damn good. You just had to stand up to Araj Oblodra when she kept insisting he drink from her. You just had to quietly tell him that he could, if he wanted to, but only if he wanted to. And you just had to respect his choice. He’d never been so overwhelmed with emotion before. Nobody had ever done that for him. His choices didn’t matter, his comfort didn’t matter. But you didn’t even hesitate.

When you sought him out at camp later that night, you even told him he was free. No longer a slave who had to get on his back for mere breadcrumbs. Too many emotions - relief, fear, euphoria, worry, gratefulness - flooded his chest.

He cleared his throat. “There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to give you,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “Consider it a… thanks, for what you did for me back there.”

He pulled the neat, white handkerchief from his pocket and presented it to you. Red eyes flit over your face, trying to read every little expression that passed, as you stared at the cloth. On the corner, embroidered in the same golden thread as he used on his shirt, were your initials. Immaculate and shiny.

Your mouth opened. Your eyes were wide, your brow furrowed and then raised. You struggled for words. You met his eyes with shock. “A-Are you sure? I mean, this is much too fine for me - I was happy to stand up for you - Not that you needed any help! I mean-”

“Darling,” he hushed. So you did enjoy it, after all. “It’s a gift. Consider it repayment for all the nights you’ve bared your neck for me, if nothing else. A simple exchange.”

A dying sound left your throat with a breath as you looked back down at the handkerchief. With shaky hands, you took it from him. You held it as though it was a religious artifact from the gods, not a folded square of soft silk with lace borders. It had the same smooth feel as running your fingers over the surface of still water. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes as you ran a thumb over the letters.

“I…” You took a shaky breath, looking up at him again through the building water in your eyes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

He smirked, though your blatant joy made his lips twitch into the start of a genuine smile. “You… deserve something nice. Something more than, well,” he gestured vaguely at your worn cotton attire, “this.”

You laughed and brushed away the tears beginning to slip down your cheeks with the back of your hands. “You’re still a bastard.”

“Oh, undoubtedly.”

“But a nice bastard.”

“Careful, darling.” He leaned forward with an even wider smirk, fangs peeking out as a mischievous twinkle glinted in his eye. “We wouldn’t want word getting out.”

And if he caught sight of that little cloth poking out from a pocket or resting at the top of your bag, well maybe he let himself enjoy that warmth in his chest.

---

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[bananastarion]

Rambling headcanons about how Astarion's trauma could manifest in your relationship.

Disclaimer: I am not fetishizing trauma or PTSD here. I have C-PTSD myself, and have dated others with it as well. So some of this is (loosely) inspired by my own experiences. It's not pretty, it's not fun, but I'd say it's pretty realistic. So yeah, fair warning! Anyway, let's gooooo

Astarion isn't fazed by much, but he IS claustrophobic- having to claw your way out of your own coffin, being trapped in a mindflayer pod and being trapped in a tomb for a year straight would do that to anyone. If he is ever unfortunate enough to be stuck in a small space again, he'll go into a blind panic. He'll hyperventilate and try to force his way out any way he can, and if he can't get out in time he'll just completely mentally shut down for a bit. If you plan to pull him into a little broom closet for a sneaky fuck, just forget it ok? You will probably get your eyes accidentally clawed out.

There is a long period in your relationship where Astarion is gradually getting more comfortable with being vulnerable around you, but he's also very self-conscious about it. He doesn't want you to pity him or think he's weak. You will be tempted to give him lots of validation and praise to make up for all of the psychological abuse he endured, to reassure him that he's finally safe and free, and that you love him for more than just his body. That his problems won't ever drive you away, and that you don't judge him. He appreciates your words deeply, he wants and needs them more than he cares to admit. But at the same time, they completely overwhelm him. Finally being in a good place with a caring partner is such a stark contrast to what he's been through, that it forces him to see even deeper into the void inside him and recognize just how badly he was treated, how deprived he's been. They hit him hard in both good and bad ways, and sometimes he'll tell you to stop because he just can't handle feeling so much right now. It's best to stick to mostly surface level stuff and ease carefully into the deeper, more meaningful observations.

The sweeter your words, the more his mind races with fears that you are idealizing him and eventually you'll come to see him for what he really is- and then abandon him. Fears that he'll come to depend on your kindness only for it to be ripped away, whether by you or by circumstances beyond his control. Fears that you don't really mean it, that you're just manipulating him the way he did to others. Deep down he hopes and trusts you're sincere, but it's just so hard to accept when Cazador's voice is in his head, countering all of it. This is all so new to him, so unknown. And the unknown is terrifying. He gets frustrated that your kindness does this to him, he wants to be able to embrace your words, he's so impatient to heal and finally be over this shit already. He judges himself so harshly for still struggling with all this. Cazador's dead, he is free, he has someone who truly loves him- why isn't that enough?! Why can't he fully appreciate it, is he just going to feel broken forever? He worries he'll take too long to get over his past, and you'll get tired of it and leave. Expect to give him lots of reassurance about all of this.

He doesn't like to cry around you, but over time you will lower his guard enough that he'll stop fighting back the tears quite so much. Sometimes it's a bad dream, sometimes you say something that just hits him hard (even if it's in a good way), and sometimes he has no idea what triggered it. You tell him he can wake you up any time if he needs you, but often he chooses not to wake you and just suffers through it alone. When it happens while you're both awake, at first he would roll over and face away from you when the tears started flowing if he couldn't collect himself, and you'd just hug him from behind. But eventually he feels comfortable enough to bury his face in your chest and just let it all out. When it's really bad, he'll be trembling and hugging you so tightly as he sobs into your shirt that it's almost hard for you to breathe. The best thing you can do is just be there with him, stroke his hair, caress the tears off his cheeks. It can be dicey, but eventually you learn to read him well enough that sometimes stroking the scars on his back very gently can be healing for him. There are other times though, when this will be too much for him. Same goes for kissing. Also, don't even think about telling anyone you've seen him like this. But of course, why would you?

Don't go into therapist mode with him when he's that vulnerable, and if he decides to talk, just let him talk. Hold space for him and be there with him. Afterwards, help ground him in the present and reconnect him to his senses by pointing out things in the room, remind him that it's not all happening to him right now. Realize how special it is that he feels safe enough with you to be so vulnerable. There are times when he even breaks down during sex, and he'll say that he's fine and you can keep going, but it's for the best to stop what you're doing and check in instead. He often dissociates when he's triggered, and doesn't realize something is wrong until it's too late.

Trauma isn't always pretty, and there are times when it does strain your relationship. When he's really triggered, he might take it out on you. He'll try his best to push you away, and say terrible things he doesn't mean. Perhaps things Cazador said to him. His articulate manner of speech can be sharper than his blade when wielded against you in the heat of the moment. He doesn't believe you can love this side of him, that he is fundamentally broken and unlovable, so it's a test of sorts to prove his own fears. He doesn't necessarily realize what he's doing, he's just lashing out from a point of pure fear. Trauma is an explanation for this behavior, but not an excuse, so it's important you set very firm and consistent boundaries when he gets like this. He might not appreciate it in the moment, but he will once he calms down.

It takes some time for him to feel truly secure with you, but he's getting there. In the meantime, he's starting to get a little clingy and codependent. He's not used to having so much freedom, and doesn't always know what to do with himself when you're not around. Being in your presence is when he's closest to feeling safe and at ease, and being apart for too long can cause his mind to race, especially when he has nothing to distract himself with. It drives him crazy that it gets to him so much- he's never been dependent on anyone before, and this side of him surprises himself. He hates it, which only stresses him out more. He tries to play it off, but it's very obvious he is struggling with separation anxiety. You don't want to overindulge him, but to ease his fears you decide to get a pair of magical rings. You can make each other's rings glow whenever you want- so if Astarion is feeling lonely, he can make your ring glow and you can make his glow back. Sometimes, just that is enough to get him through a rough day without you. Once he has done some more healing, eventually he will come to enjoy his alone time in a way he's never gotten to before in his life, and as much as you enjoy spending time with him, you'll be so happy for him to finally have that.

[avocado-writing]

Hey! I just discovered your blog and I'm having massive bg3 brain rot rn. I just went through a hellish amount of back pain (to the point where I was on the verge of passing out) and I was wondering if you could write a few headcannos about how the bg3 companions would comfort the reader. I was thinking maybe Astarion and a few of your favs? Anyway, I love your work and gave a great day!!

aww no I hope your back is better my love! Here are some hcs about some companions helping/comforting you when you’re in pain:

Astarion

Wakes you up early and encourages you to do some gentle stretches to help with the pain

I do mean early. He basically does yoga with you and does NOT relish the idea of the camp catching him doing downwards facing dog, he’d die from embarrassment (though he will stomach doing it during the day if you really want to. But complain the whole time)

Does research into what teas and tinctures can be made and bought to help ease your discomfort.

Gives you massages, but they’re very sensual. You both know he’s not really trying to help in that regard… However his massages do lead to a way to take your mind off things…

Karlach

her 👏 warm 👏 hands 👏 are 👏 a 👏 heat pack 👏 Both before and after her infernal engine is fixed.

Before, she wraps her hands up as tight as she can to shield you from her head and presses them against wherever is causing you discomfort

After, she uses her hands properly, holding them against your skin so the heat can soothe you.

Offers to carry your things so that the day-to-day is easier.

Wyll

He does do proper massages, and unlike astarion he has no ulterior motive.

Insists you see a doctor or a healer as soon as you can and pays your medical bill if needed.

Is good at reading your face. If you’re doing something and your pain is causing you problems, he’ll offer to jump in and take over or at least help you.

Doesn’t bombard you with questions about how you’re feeling but knows the signs to look out for, because he knows you 💕

Lae’zel

10000% cracks your joints like a chiropractor, likely some githyanki remedy.

You do not know if she is trained to do this. Probably not. It feels so good though.

She is the source of your bruises but healer of your pain.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget (lmk if you want to be added)

[tarotwithlove]

PICK A CARD ⋆ the relationship with your fictional other

a fictional other is defined as: f/o usually stands for fictional other, which is a term often used by self-shippers, mainly on tumblr. you can have romantic, familial and platonic f/os.

· what would they think about you?

· what would your relationship be like?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips and feedback are highly appreciated!

the 18+ version of this PAC is on patreon!

GROUP ONE

cards · ace of swords, two of swords, the hanged man, page of pentacles, king of cups (reversed), ten of swords. 

channelled songs · i don’t care by 2ne1. blessed with a curse by bring me the horizon. far by sza. nobody by miraa may. 

my dear group one ♡ your fictional other would have an immediate attachment to you. they feel like they're surrounded by people who are somewhat inferior to them, unable to hold a proper conversation with them or talk to them as an equal would. they're someone who may thrive on intellectual conversation, which may be at odds with how people perceive them. 

i’m thinking of a character like asmodeus from obey me, so your fictional other may be seen as somewhat airheaded, unintelligent, and self-absorbed. people may not make an effort to connect with them or get to know them beyond the superficial or surface level. yet, right from the start, you treat them differently. you don’t treat them as stupid. you speak to them as an equal - enthusiastically conversing about a shared interest with ease or without putting on any airs. 

you may be one of the only people who your fictional other feels comfortable around. more than anything, as a friend. they always feel like people want something from them or are only getting close to them because of how much they desire them. but because of how you treat them from the beginning, they have a lot of respect for you and feel at home around you. 

this also brings us to what your relationship with your f/o would be like. 

your fictional other may see you as a close friend. actually, as their closest friend. even though this is not just friendship for you and you also have romantic feelings for them. 

you two will spend a lot of time together, with the people around you joking about how attached at the hip you are. and about how funny it is that your f/o has just adopted you as theirs. 

you will likely keep your romantic feelings a secret for the longest time because you don’t want to ruin the friendship. however, you will finally admit your feelings and end up pushing them away. far, far away. they will feel betrayed - as if they lost the only person they could really trust and be themselves with. this confession will also make them overthink your entire relationship and wonder how much of what you were doing was only because you had romantic feelings for them. 

GROUP TWO

cards · queen of pentacles, ace of pentacles, wheel of fortune, seven of cups, strength, the fool. 

channelled songs · lettera a mio padre by ermal meta. candy drip by lucky daye. whoa by rakiyah. heat lightning by mitski. 

my dear group two ♡ there may be an age gap between you and your fictional other - for some, i’m getting that this is thousands of years. i’m not all too familiar with baldur’s gate, but some of you may be reading this pac with astarion in mind (who, if google is to be trusted, is about 200 years old). 

your fictional other thinks of you as an incredibly grounded and mature person. they see you as a person with a good head on their shoulders, who can be relied upon, and who makes a good addition to any team. 

this idea of the team seems so important, as if your fictional other doesn’t really keep people around unless they can provide them with something useful. a skill or resource, or anything else that uplifts and serves a purpose in their life, and in the grander scheme of things. if they saw you as deadweight - no matter how much they’ve come to like you - they would probably leave you behind or go out of their way to teach you something useful. this, too, would depend on how much they actually like you and the potential they see in you. 

but that’s not something you have to worry about, because your fictional other already sees you as a major asset. they already see you as someone they not only want by their side but trust to have by their side.

the relationship between you and your fictional other is honestly so sexually charged, with your f/o seeing you as not only an attractive person but a highly sensual one. i won’t be going into detail about this, but if you’re interested in the sexual relationship between you and your fictional other, there is an 18+ extended version of this pac now up on my patreon!

but! anyway! your relationship with your fictional other may be complicated for some time. there may be this overwhelming sexual and romantic tension for some time - from the time you first meet - but the dynamic of the relationship or your fictional other’s own emotional invulnerability may be keeping them from progressing the relationship beyond this. 

your fictional other will, in many ways, favour you. keeping space for you, buying you things, cooking things just for you - all of these things that can be seen as just something you do for a friend but is inextricably tinged with unspoken desire and love when they are done for you by your fictional other.

GROUP THREE

cards · the fool, three of swords, queen of swords, three of cups, the world, two of swords. 

channelled songs · shrike by hozier. two hearts and no brain by kane strang. drumming song by florence + the machine. high highs to low lows by lolo zouai. 

my dear group three  ♡ your fictional other may be inexperienced where love is concerned, though they are quite cocky, flirtatious, and love the idea of love. someone like sanji from one piece actually comes to mind. this is someone who feels mentally and emotionally challenged by you - in particular, you challenge their idea and past approaches to love and relationship, as well as the ways in which they view themselves. 

honestly, i’m getting a lot of overwhelmingly sad energy for this group, with your fictional other often wondering if they are good enough for you. even just good enough to be around you. 

they see you as someone who is as free-spirited as you are disciplined. they see you as someone who is intelligent, talented and fiercely independent, and they fear that if you see them for who they are instead of who they pretend to be you will immediately dislike them and not want to be around them any longer. so your f/o may walk on eggshells around you, putting on a show as they always put on a show - because, then, you will want to stick around for longer. 

your fictional other may put you on a bit of a pedestal, though to an extent it may be that they have such a low view of themselves. 

for what this relationship itself will be like, it will be a lot of fun. but it will also be lacking in a lot of emotional connection - something which seems to be a purposeful decision on your fictional other’s part. they think that as long as you are always having fun and keeping busy you can have a good relationship without having to get too close. or, more specifically, without you having to get to know them too well. without you ever having to see the real them. 

they will likely keep you laughing, always telling jokes and doing things to keep you entertained. 

travel and adventure is so important to your relationship with your fictional other, with you hardly ever just having a normal day. with you hardly ever just having a day to do nothing or relax around doing nothing. you will both like it this way, though, in many ways chasing after this excitement - not just together but likely with a group of friends or close companions. 

GROUP FOUR

cards · six of wands, four of pentacles, ten of wands, king of pentacles, two of pentacles, death. 

channelled songs · skip skip by purple kiss. not friendly by flo milli. every other freckle by alt-j. budget by megan thee stallion & latto. 

my dear group four ♡ in the nicest way possible, your fictional other comes across as quite pathetic. they may be someone who throws money around in an attempt to buy affection or someone who uses money to make up for their perceived flaws. though, in the same vein, i don't see your f/o as someone who focuses too much on their flaws - in fact, they may think that they're perfect - they've just always been taught that money has more power than anything else. and, if they want something, they can just throw money at it and get it. 

but this does not work with you. no matter how much money they throw at you, you can't be bought or swayed, which, in and of itself makes them cling to you. 

they see you as someone who is overconfident. you may be similar in this regard, though they do not see themselves like this at all. to them, you are someone who could benefit from more money (or jewels or gifts) so they don’t understand why you won’t just accept the things they are giving you. 

it’s kind of funny, because it’s probably the first time your fictional other has even thought this much about another person in their whole life. thus, they feel kind of overwhelmed by it. they wonder if you’ve gone through some kind of childhood trauma that’s made you like this. you pique their interest and they want to know everything about you. 

saiko metori from the disastrous life of saiki k comes to mind, so that may be who some of you are reading this group for. 

your relationship with your fictional other may be… complicated. they may obsessively pursue you - half because they’re genuinely intrigued by you and want to be with you and half because they feel a desire to own you. this desire to own you is driven by their upbringing and values; these values that tell him if they like something that means they have to own it. 

you may be attracted to this fictional other or like them enough to be friends with them, but as you get to actually know them you may for a time try to put distance between you two. even if only to sort out your thoughts about this person, this relationship, and where you want this connection to go. 

this relationship may change drastically after you put this distance between you, as this sends the message to your f/o that you are not ashamed to set boundaries and stand on them. after this, they may try their best to listen to you and communicate with you as two equals instead of a rich kid and the person they’re trying to woo. though at times they are doing this in a more obviously begrudging manner just because they don’t want to put distance between you again. 

[sharkboywrites]

Hi! Can you pls write halsin and astarion (Gale too if u can) with a trans male (transitioned) who feels insecure about appearing too feminine and thinking about cutting his long hair cause he thinks they’re too feminine? Sorry this just my insecurities. This morning I cut my hair and gold I wish I hadn’t cause I loved my hair but ppls told me they were girly so.. yeah. Regrets. Sorry about the mini rant. So Uhm would love if u could write so,è comfort, no worries if u can’t! Thx for being a mlm writer and love that u started writing for bg3! Have a lovely day!

Halsin, Astarion, and Gale with a Dysphoric FTM S/O

A/N: Took me about two years but I'm finally trying to get back to writing after falling down shitposting hell, yaay. So sorry to hear about your problems with hair (and also that it took me so long to get to it :/), hair can be a really complicated thing when you're trans and even though I cut mine as short as possible I still end up feeling too feminine most of the time. sorry that these are kinda short, I'm easing myself back into writing after a while of not writing at all, even personal works, after a family emergency.

Ftm reader, male reader, he/him pronouns used, heavy themes of dysphoria

Halsin

Halsin makes his morals clear, that things should be as nature intended it

This includes things like hair, and that hair growing out is a natural thing whether you're a man or woman

Obviously he's okay with hair cutting, his would be much longer if he hadn't, but he also supports the idea of letting your hair grow out, letting nature choose it's path, his hair is still near his shoulders after all

So when you come to him about your worries of your hair being "too feminine" he's very adamant that this is a normal thing

He assures you that hair is natural, and that people can have any length and it will not affect who they are as a person

Whatever you decided, cutting your hair or keeping it long, he will continue to assure you that no matter what hair length you have, you are still a man and the man he loves

Just know that Halsin loves you no matter what, you are a man and he will do everything in his power to make sure you know that

Astarion

Like Halsin, Astarion is really doesn't think much about hair length and it equating to gender

Astarion had met plenty of men in his life, many of which having long hair, some even long enough to go all the way down their legs to their ankles

And yet these men were still just that, men

Some quite masculine still, and not any less attractive to him

When you come to him with your troubles, he's immediately going to try and help you

He'll help you style your hair to find a way that you like it

He'll tie it all up, tie only certain parts of it up, twist it and braid it, until you find something that you like

Every time you find a style you like, because of course he'll keep going until you find multiple you're comfortable with, he'll tease you about how silly you were for thinking having long hair made you feminine

I mean, look at this man

His hair is short, but it's stylish, he takes good care of it, and he'll for sure know how to make it so that you'll like this

He'll make you feel as masculine as possible while playing with your hair, making sure you know just how loved yu are, as you are, a man

Gale

Gale himself has longer hair

Obviously it's not very long, about a bit longer than his shoulders, but he's confident about it most times

When he does get insecure about it, it's not because he doesn't feel masculine, it's because of his general insecurities with himself

So when you open up to him about your issues, he's not exactly sure how to help

He'd never considered that this could be a reason someone would be insecure

He encourages you to keep your hair long, although he's not very good at comforting you

He may try to mess around with your hair like Astarion, and he doesn't do as well, but he does well enough

You find a few styles that make you feel better and he promises to do his best to try and make it right every morning just for you

If you do want to cut it off, he won't stop you, even supervising to make sure you don't mess it up too bad

If you regret it later, he'll hold you close in an attempt to comfort you

Again, he's not great at comforting, but at this point he's also more comfortable and it does the trick

Before or after cutting your hair, he may use astral projection to try and make you feel better about your physical appearance if you really want it

Gale may not be the best in these situation, but he tries his hardest to do what's best for you and what you want, comforting you all the way through

Wooo I'm back to writing, ty for reading and have a nice day!

[lizzychanstuffss]

Hi, I saw you were taking prompts! Could you write something where human Tav (or any non-darkvision race) and Astarion are exploring somewhere dark (maybe some ruins or a cave) and Tav's torch goes out. So they have to rely on Astarion to guide them the rest of the time?

My first question! Of course I am more than happy to fill your request! I’m still getting used to writing for Astarion’s voice so I apologize if he sounds a bit ooc.

Astarion x human!Tav GN

Set in act 2 since it's convenient for the request

Choosing to scout ahead with just two of you seemed like a good idea back at camp, but you both sorely underestimated how dark the shadow-cursed lands truly would be. Not to mention how creepy they would end up being as well. Neither you nor Astarion really expected it. Going from the sunny mountain pass to the beautiful bioluminescent Underdark, nothing could compare to this.

It was all shadows and nightmares and it was just awful, the torch you held was barely cutting through the darkness, although a particular pale elf was walking with no issue.

"How can you see through all this darkness so easily, Astarion?" raising an eyebrow as you squinted trying to get a good look at his features.

"Darkvision, my dear" he played it off so easily, of course. You let out a slightly annoyed sigh which he couldn't help but chuckle in response to before he teased back.

"Well Shadowheart did offer to come instead of you, darling"

"I am perfectly fi-"

whoosh

"Ah!" Astarion let out a startled yelp as the torch was put out by a surprise gust of wind. By this point in time you had been blessed by the pixie so the shadow curse getting you wasn't an issue, but you still couldn't see anything through this thick fog of shadow.

"Astarion?" defeated you called out to him holding your arms out as you tried to feel where the man was standing.

"I'm here, my dear" He hesitated at first before taking your hands in his. You couldn't help but smile a bit seeing him even be willing to touch you like this, but considering there was no good way to relight the torch he figured this to be the best option.

Looking around with ease he began walking, "Where are we going?" you asked slightly confused as you stumbled over your feet.

"Back to camp, of course, as much as I want to trust we won't be attacked in this darkness, I don't trust you to be of any use without darkvision" sighing a bit because frankly, he was right. Without a torch and without any way to relight it, you were fairly useless at the moment.

So continuing on you two walked, although you couldn't help but notice he was walking a bit slower than normal.

"You know you don't have to go so slow, I'll be fine if you speed up" you spoke, and then Astarion stopped and you were fairly certain he turned back to face you forgetting that you couldn't see him, only imagining how he got embarrassed as he forgot this little detail.

"I...I thought it would be better if I slowed down so you don't trip and fall on your face unless you would prefer I just let you fall and make a fool of yourself" That classic sass of his coming through but you simply rolled your eyes and gave him a smile.

"You're adorable when you get like this" The words rolled off your tongue you could swear the man froze in time, but only for a moment before composing himself.

"And you're adorable when you're trying to tease me~" you could almost make out a smirk on his face through what little shapes you could find painting his figure. Wordlessly he turned and continued his guidance, giving you time to try and think of something clever to say back. But if he was going to say things like that then maybe silence was the better option overall.

Eventually the two of you made it back to camp, the warmth and color filling both of your views "Ah finally not total darkness!" happily you took in the sight of the fire before turning to Astarion with your hand still in his.

"Do you want to sit in your tent or by the fire?" tilting your head as you gave him an option he seemed rather confused by the question.

"I suppose....my tent?" raising an eyebrow as he spoke unsure what your ploy was. While he was still getting used to this being a couple things you were trying your best to do little things that you thought he might enjoy.

"Alright, well then let's go" letting go of his hand as you began to walk before he grabbed it and walked with you back to his tent, getting a smile out of you. 

[themaskstayson]

"Arise now, ye Tarnished. Ye dead, who yet live. The call of long-lost grace speaks to us all." - Narrator (Elden Ring)

"The oath you awoke with is some faded instinct. What does it even stand for?" - Narrator (Baldur's Gate 3)

Decided to combine my two favorite things (Elden Ring and Baldur's Gate 3) and bring my current tarnished, Faith, to Faerûn.

Maybe I'll write some more silly stuff than just what is below.

It'll be pretty funny to have a tarnished so ready to unalive everything on sight to have party members telling them you gotta chill.

Faith: See, I told you everyone around us will want to kill us! She pulled a branch with poison on me!

Shadowheart: Okay... You got me there, but maybe telling everyone we have Mind Flayer tadpoles in our skulls is a bad idea.

Gale would have a blast learning about the Land Between.

Gale: You're telling me your people were banished from your world and this Golden Order you were fighting for?

Faith: Yup.

Gale: And then you were brought back to the Land Between, but the very order they exiled you, just to restore order by fighting countless of enemies without rest?

Faith: I mean... My plan was to burn it all down because I became maidenless again...

Lae'zel would enjoy the tales of all the battles the tarnished been through. Maybe not so much the dragons, but knowing you can learn dragon spells might appeal to her dragon girl heart.

Lae'zel: You would hunt these dragons and kill them?!

Faith: Yeah but then I can consume their hearts and use their power! Rot was very useful against Bloody Finger Invaders.

Oh man, for the tarnished to use their own spells instead of D&D would also be so much fun. Wyll talked about how he could do all these amazing things before he got nerfed and Faith would reminisce with him.

Faith: Ah, I remember when I was able to use the flame of frenzy... I wonder if I can get that back at some point and how effective it would be against your kind.

Wyll: What did that do?

Faith: Fire of madness would spur out of my eyes and kill the tarnish with ease. A heresy spell from the three fingers but... Those invaders were so annoying.

Wyll: That's terrifying...

Faith: You just told me about opening a gateway to the darkness between stars and anyone in it would suffer unknowable horrors...

Karlach and Astarion I'm not too sure what those interactions would be like.

Astarion would do this normal thing with Faith's I honestly don't see Faith to be okay with being fed upon but I don't think Astarion would be stupid enough to trust her to not kill him. He would hit on her and it would go over her head completely.

Faith would probably want to kill Karlach and someone else would need to step in and tell Faith and Wyll that they're idiots and Karlach is clearly a tiefling. Probably Shadowheart tbh.

Faith is from my coop game with friends. They're is a Confessor (thus the name lol) and basically I just wanted to do faith based spells with some sword and shield game play since my first tarnished was a pure intelligence mage. But I might lean more into the Confessor lore build for funsies since there are 4 of us playing at a given time. I guess Faith's pronouns are they/she depending on my mood.

It only seemed right to make them a paladin in BG3. Vengeance makes sense for a tarnished trying to bring back Golden Order and Oathbreaker if I decide to to the Lorrd of the Frenzied Flame ending.

They're also a dark urge cause blood thirst and amnesia.

I poured many hours into Elden Ring and barely knew the lore, but I think it'll be a fun crossover to think and maybe write about. And I'm getting too many ideas, gonna have to go full self-indulgent with this one... And take more photos lol

[smolgloves]

Midnight Snack

Summary: A sequel to The Blood and The Heart, where Freya learns just how much Tav trusts Astarion.

Trigger warning: fearplay, vore mention, mentions of murder/death, dehumanizing language, mentions of blood drinking, and Alcohol.

The Night grew quiet once Tav fell asleep, leaving Freya alone to her thoughts. It's strange, this was the perfect opportunity to slip away yet Freya felt no desire to do such a thing. Tav was an interesting person who seemed to put her at ease, maybe it was only because they were a halfling and thus were less intimidating to talk to despite being a larger being or maybe Freya is just starstruck by them after they saved her from that vampire. Whatever the case, Freya was not going to make an attempt at escaping. 

She'd much rather sift through the stuff Tav had given her, which was quite an abundance for her! They had all sorts of cloth and trinkets that didn't provide them with much use for their group, but Freya could take this stuff back to their cousin and they could get lost in their tinkering projects for hours! However there was one thing that caught her eye, a rope-like substance that seemed to stretch further than Freya could fathom, yet it would snap back into its original form. Tav mentioned they snagged it from a mad alchemist's lair, said it was called elastic. Freya gave the rope a tug as ideas swirled in her head. This may be the perfect thing to help her make the weapon she and her cousin were trying to come up with. Inspiration hit her and she got up to scavenge around the edge of the woods that was near the campsite, scanning the ground for sticks until she found the perfect one; it was Y-shaped and somewhat sturdy. Although some of the ends were a little jagged, but this was just a prototype, if this works, Freya can go home and show her cousin this and they can really improve it. She began with tying the elastic around the tip of the Y part of the stick, then tugged on the rope a few times before determining it wouldn't break from the tension. Now she just needed some ammo, fortunately the ground has an abundance of tiny pebbles that Freya could use on the new device. 

Freya looked over the prototype, she had just made a handheld catapult- or a peashooter as her cousin had coined. A sense of pride filled the borrower. “Kes is gonna love this!” She smiled and aimed the peashooter in random directions as she headed back to camp. She just needed a target to practice on and she could confidently call this project a success!

Freya went to return to where Tav was sleeping when she laid her eyes upon a horrific sight. She froze as she spotted Astarion prowling towards Tav. He knelt down by their face, hunger flickered in those crimson eyes as he caressed Tav's cheek, his hand gently traced down their neck. He drew closer to them with a sinister smile, he opened his mouth wide, letting his fangs come closer to his next meal. 

“No!” In a fluid motion, Freya scooped up a pebble off the ground, and catapulted it towards the vampire with the peashooter. It whistled in the air and hit the ground near where his hand rested, a tiny dust cloud stirred in the air. 

“What?!” Astarion broke away from Tav and snapped his gaze over to Freya. “You again?!” A mixture of shock and anger laced his voice. 

Freya didn't have time to think about a plan before she swiped another pebble from the ground and aimed her weapon at Astarion. “Stay back.” 

Astarion let out a cold chuckle. “What do you possibly think you can do with that miniscule weapon?” 

“Take one bite out of Tav, and you'll find out!” 

Astarion let out a mocking gasp. “Oh no, the little mouse is going to throw a pebble at me.” He dramatically draped his arm over his head, then immediately dropped the mockery to shoot a deathly glare at the borrower. “In case you've forgotten darling, I can bite your head off with no effort, which I might do if you deprive me from my meal!” 

Instinct told her to run, to not risk her life for a halfling she just met. It would be ease to just say this was Tav's own fault for letting a vampire run around the camp, but when she looked at their sleeping form, she couldn't let them get hurt. Freya steeled her nerves, refusing to break eye contact with him. “I won't ask again!”

A groan came from Tav. “What's going on?” 

“Oh now you've done it.” Astarion said, rolling his eyes.

“Tav get up!” Freya shouted. “You're in danger!” 

“What?!” Tav shot up and rolled away from their bedroll, pushing themselves on their feet and holding out their fists in defense. “What's going on?!” 

“Your vampire friend was about to drain you of your blood.” Freya exclaimed. 

Tav let their guard down, looking down at the borrower with sympathy. “Oh Freya…” 

“Did you not hear what I said?” 

Astarion's face lit up with a smirk. “Aww, did Tav forget to mention that they let me drink their blood?” 

“You're lying!” Freya snapped. “Only a bloody idiot would do that!” 

The vampire stifled a laugh. “Then I guess you don't know Tav very well. I have probably had more blood than you have if you were double your height.”

Freya stared back at Tav, hoping this was a joke but they just gave a sheepish smile. She lowered the peashooter and broke eye contact from Tav. “You've gotta be kidding me…” 

“What's with all the racket?”

Freya snapped her attention to the new voice that approached. A tiefling woman that towered above Tav and Astarion walked up to them, she had shorter black hair with horns curling above her head yet one horn was broken off. Interestingly, her dark red skin seemed to burn like embers in the night. Before anyone could answer the Tiefling, more people showed up with confusing murmurs and annoyance over the commotion the three had made. Freya counted five new faces approaching the campfire, five new larger folks that were now circled around Freya. There was no way to slip away without at least one of them noticing her.

“What is that?” Said a feminine voice belonging to a half elf with dark braided hair as she stared down at the borrower, soon more eyes followed the woman's gaze and locked on to Freya, making her feel smaller than she truly was. 

“I believe that is a borrower.” Said a bearded man with shoulder length brown hair. “They usually live in your walls to survive.” 

“Aww, she's adorable!” shouted the tiefling.

Freya swore her heart could be heard pounding against her chest by everyone around the campfire, she wanted to scream but her throat closed up; all she could do was freeze up. 

Pale fingers quickly wrapped around Freya's waist and plucked her from the ground, forcing a yelp out of her. She twisted herself to see her captor and saw Astarion wearing a cheeky smile on his lips. “Everyone, meet Freya, the newest stray that wandered into camp!” His voice dripped with a sickly sweet mockery. 

“Astarion, knock it off.” Tav hissed through their teeth.

“Don't worry, Tav. I'm just making formal introductions.” The vampire brushed a slender finger through her blonde curls, sending shivers down Freya's spine. “We don't wanna be rude.”

“Come now, Astarion, put the borrower down.” Said a man with horns protruding out of his forehead. “She looks absolutely terrified.” 

“Yes,” Tav urged, the patience in their voice was waning thin. “Let's put her down.”

“Chk, I've heard of these tiny istiks.” The Githyanki woman said, narrowing her eyes. “Whenever the githyanki found them, they always crushed them for trying to steal from us.”

Freya sucked in a gasp, it felt as though lead had formed in the pit of her stomach trying to weigh her down. She tried to keep her head cool under the spotlight, but her heart threatened to explode! But what made everything worse was when she felt a muscle in Astarion's hand twitch, Freya didn't dare glance over to him, she didn't need to when she could feel the sneer that radiated from him.

“Oh do tell, Lae'zel.” He inched closer to the gith. “And don't leave out any gorey details.”

“That's enough!” Tav snapped.

“I will not partake in your petty mockery.” Lae'zel glared up at Astarion. “Either kill the creature or let it go, I do not care.” 

Panic settled into Freya, causing her breathing to grow shaky. Her eyes darted from each person, some watched with pity, others disgust, but they were watching her terror like it was a play. What happened to that fearless borrower from earlier?

“Oh come now, I'm only trying to bond with our guest by telling some ghost stories around the campfire.” The vampire brought Freya closer to his face, giving her a hungry stare; he was enjoying the fear he was putting her through. “I could always tell her about the things Cazador used to do to borrowers….” 

“ASTARION!” Tav's voice bellowed like a crack of thunder, breaking Astarion away from Freya. That was all she needed to aim her peashooter at the vampire, in a second the pebble she still held in her hand was already flung out of the elastic and lobbing towards his eye. 

“ACK!” Astarion flinched back, his grip on Freya loosened and she easily slipped through his fingers. There was only a moment where she could lock eyes with a horrified Tav as she began her descent to the ground. Freya had no choice but to accept her fate, she closed her eyes one last time to give a silent prayer to the gods that her death would be swift.

A male voice shouted out something in a language Freya was not familiar with. A cold rush of wind brushed under her and she suddenly wasn't falling anymore. Her eyes flew open to see a disembodied blue hand had broken her fall. The feeling was even more surreal than being in an actual person's hands, there was a chilling breeze that flowed around her, yet the translucent limb was solid to the touch. 

The bearded man stepped forward and knelt down to be more eye level with the borrower. Upon closer inspection, Freya could see the man had brown eyes that looked at her softly. She also noticed these strange faded markings sat under his left eye and snaked their way down to his neck and chest, if there was more to those markings, they were hidden away by the purple velvet tunic he wore. “Are you alright?” He asked with a warm smile. 

Is she alright? She had just had her fears exploited by a vampire and almost fell to her death in front of seven larger beings before the sun even rose, of course she's not alright! Tears threatened to fall from her face but Freya did her best to push those overwhelming feelings aside; the last thing she needed was to cry in front of that vampire bastard.

“Put me down, please…” Her voice trembled along with the rest of her body. 

The bearded man never said a word, he just nodded and motioned the ghastly hand to descend to the ground, letting her gently slide off. Freya's legs felt like jelly on solid ground, she dropped to her knees, her heavy breaths being the only thing that kept the night from being silent; eyes were like arrows shooting through the cowering borrower. The only thing Freya could do was silently hope for this night to end quickly. 

“I need everyone to leave!” Tav's voice carried around the camp. “Go back to your tents and give her some space!” 

The adventurers began to shuffle away, curiosity still written on their faces. The one tiefling woman passes by Freya, giving her a thumbs up. “Nice shot, back there.” She said before walking away. As the crowd dispersed, Freya found the nerve to look around, only Tav and Astarion remained, his left eye was squeezed shut.

“When I say everyone, I mean everyone.” Tav ordered. 

“Oh come now, Darling. I was just having a bit of fun.” He said nonchalantly.

“A bit of fun?” Tav blurted out. “You nearly killed her!” 

“After she shot my eye!” Astarion scoffed. “I think we're even now.” 

“Leave now.” Tav's voice was quiet and firm, yet anger boiled at the edge. It drove a chill down Freya's spine, Astarion must have felt the same way because she watched him back away from the halfling. There was a flicker of bitterness in his eyes as he glanced over at the borrower but then the vampire mostly seemed hurt when he looked back over to Tav. He didn't breathe a word as he wandered back to his tent.

Once the vampire stalked off, Freya could no longer hold back tears, they streamed down her cheeks. 

“Gods Freya, I'm so sorry.” Tav knelt down to the borrower and slowly reached out for her. 

Freya flinched. “Please don't…. I've had enough of giant hands for one night.” 

“I understand.” They pulled their hand back and shifted to sit in a more criss-cross position, giving Freya the space she needed. It took a minute for her to compose herself and finally look up at the halfling. 

“Do you actually let him bite you?” Freya asked, wiping her tears away. 

“Yeah, I do sometimes.” Tav's face grew red. “I kind of forgot that I agreed to let him do it for tonight. Sorry, I would have warned you otherwise.”

Freya's jaw went slack. “Why would you agree to something like that?” 

They gave a soft smile. “It's a rather long story, but I trust him quite a lot… despite his more abrasive tendencies.” 

“That's insane…” Was all Freya could say, she tried to rack her brain with any logical reason someone would do such a thing. Was she just biased or did everyone in this camp let the vampire drink their blood?

“Funny, I think we all said the same thing.” A feminine voice caused Freya to jolt out of her thoughts. She locked onto the source and saw the half-elf with the dark hair a few feet away. “Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” 

“I thought I told everyone to back off.” Tav sighed. 

“You did, but I couldn't help myself.” The woman smiled and sat down on her knees, she had a bottle of wine and a silver goblet in hand. “I was most curious about our new guest.” 

Freya took a moment to analyze the woman. Her dark hair was long and braided in a high ponytail, with bangs that fit nicely around the frame of her face; she had a scar that ran across her right cheek, she offered a warm smile but her forest green eyes seemed to calculate Freya's every move. Maybe it was the nerves, but she felt an ominous presence around the woman.

“Don't worry, I'm not going to grab you like Astarion did.” The woman chuckled softly. “If anything, I could actually help if he hurt you at all.” 

“Shadowheart is our cleric.” Tav explained. “You can trust her, if you feel comfortable enough.”

“I…I'm alright… thank you.” Freya took a shaky breath. “I'm just not used to… being the center of attention.” 

“I'm sure.” Shadowheart took a sip of her wine before glancing back at Freya. “You look like you could use a drink.” 

There was no holding back the smile that spread across the borrower's face. “I definitely could use one.” 

“Do you have a preference?”

The borrower sighed. “At this point, I'll take whatever you got.” 

“Well, I didn't take you for a drinker, Freya.” Tav teased.

“There's a lot you don't know about me.” She retorted. “Much like I don't know much about you.” 

“Fair point.” Tav chuckled and rubbed the back of their neck, before glancing over at the wine bottle. “I guess we should find something small enough to drink out of.” 

“A thimble will work well enough.” Freya said. 

“I think I have one back at my tent.” Shadowheart smiled. “If you want, we can drink there. It would offer you more privacy.” 

“I appreciate it.” 

Shadowheart stood up and started to walk away.“Perfect, follow me.” 

Tav locked eyes with Freya and moved their hand next to her, awaiting for her response. It was a simple gesture but one that Freya greatly appreciated. She gave Tav a nod and they carefully scooped her up into their hands. It was still odd to just let a larger being pick her up so easily, but Freya found a sense of comfort when Tav held her, they were so gentle with her. If Freya wasn't too careful, she could find herself getting used to be handled by this charming halfling.

[bhaalsdeepbat]

I've been thinking about Spawn Astarion vs Ascended Astarion power dynamic differences with the Durges I paired each ending with.

Mercy (Durge) and Spawn Astarion see each other as a whole. They recognize the darkness in each other, but don't let it cloud the vision of who they see. They're able to be their authentic self while also being vulnerable.

They can appreciate one another's edges, while also providing gentle comfort and support. Mercy can be a little feral and Astarion a little murder happy, but they accentuate their admiration of one another's prowess (and the love for each other totally, including the darkness in one another) and ferocity with equal amounts of gentle love and comfort.

For example:

Mercy holding someone for Astarion to drink fresh before they're killed. Mercy's claws against the bandit's throat, the tips pressing in, drawing beads of blood. Astarion sees them licking their lips, the corners twisting into a feral grin, all sharp teeth and monstrous. They're indulging some thoughts, because they don't have Urges, but they still have daydreams and anxieties. Their disinheritance and the revoking of their blood took away the leash of compulsion, but left intrusive thoughts in their wake. Most of the time fleeting, but still lingering there.

The ease with which Mercy holds back their own bloodlust, the way Mercy kinda looks like a predator, and the power just wafting off them. Astarion is super into it.

Mercy saw Astarion stalking in the shadows with ease, the stupid bandit had no idea what was coming. They stayed behind to wait for Astarion to sneak into position, and the Sorcerer is just IMPRESSED. Astarion is stalking and shoots an arrow off into his prey to subdue them, and Mercy is just reminded how strong he is with his bow. Like he is just a fucking creature of the night and they're super into it. They get a front row seat of Astarion getting to feed and Mercy's heart thrumbs in their ears with excitement when he makes a show of it for them. Mercy has never seen someone be so beautiful while murdering and they're just like yes please more.

Like so much of their intimacy involves moments of vulnerability and being able to feel safe when their defenses are down. Astarion doesn't have to try and peacock when he feels his weakness showing. He can just let himself feel whatever it is he feels - ashamed, pathetic, ravenous - in the moment and know he'll be just seen as himself.

But then after that they clean up and find their way back to their room before sunrise. Astarion hides under the covers nestled on top of Mercy's chest and they spend most nights with the softest of cuddles, gentle touches, never once going long without contact. Lots of chatting and teasing and just joyous interactions. They have nightmares and they coax one another into talking about said nightmares. It's just very trusting and loving. It would also be an equally giving relationship.

With Ascended Astarion, Ashe (also a Durge) and Astarion, they never had the vulnerable moments that built a strong foundation. It's actually quite easy to romance Astarion and miss some pivotal emotional moments where you peek behind the mask. They're two mean girls who were able to be honest, but not vulnerable, and neither challenged one another about their twisted view of the world.

The ability to be vulnerable with Astarion hinges on Durge willing to be open and vulnerable first. Ashe is duplicitous and would never make the first step, nor would she be willing to admit how afraid she truly is. She didn't get the act two scene because she killed Isobel, and she did it after Astarion confessed to her spontaneously after taking down a certain Orthon. It was the ONLY moment of true vulnerability their entire relationship bc again. She didn't get he "Kill Your Lover" night bc she didn't trust herself to not kill someone important to her.

All of this is to say: Ashe got a peek at the vulnerability once, then was back to manipulative Astarion. So, she helps him Ascend, and part of it is the Urges are strong, the bloodlust and threat of death driving her fucking feral, and she's afraid of what she might do to Astarion if he doesn't go after power at all cost.

Again, they didn't have any vulnerable outside the one confession. Ashe did NOT push back and instead enabled Astarion every step of their journey. She met his siblings and helped him deceive them (Mercy did NOT enable him and got a better peek at the version of himself Astarion desperately tries to hide).

So, she helps him Ascend. She doesn't even consider he may try to make her a spawn. Their entire journey has been about them both trying to slip the leash their masters have on them, but he knows what to say. They both were open enough for him to work Ashe like a fiddle and get her to cave to giving him her leash.

He is high off the power of the ascension and Ashe continues to do nothing to challenge him in any meaningful way. She hisses and pushes back on her own objectifation (and fails), but still sees her station as above everyone else.

Ashe and Ascended!Astarion are two monsters who see the world as being made for them to consume. They saw no kindness, no light, only a clear view of the taint in this world, illumated by the wash of Sun painting their days.

This would result in an enternal power struggle between the two. Astarion wants to be the most powerful being in the world and he is not going to share that with anyone. He's acutely aware of the cycle of undeath and eventually Vengeance they've entered, even if Ashe isn't.

He immediately hops onto being a manipulative shit. Traps Ashe, takes the leash, and turns her into his most prized pet and weapon. He wanted her, not out of love, but out of fear she might betray him one day.

Ashe saw a peek into the way their dynamic would play out the night he turned her. She wanted to see how much he changed and taunted him to be rough. When he shoved her down, there was no love, no kindness, just burning desire and a need to claim the conquest being laid before him.

Everything becomes about power and conquests at that point. Like he cannot help but be intoxicated by it all. The one person strong enough to help him destroy his abuser is now in his complete control. He starts laying out rules he plans to reinforce once the tadpoles are dealt with, but he dangles them like a treat, like they're something special, like his consort.

He spends this time trying to make Ashe feel like she's special, while also going on about his plans for a world that Ashe wouldn't even be able to enjoy. The human cattle enslaved, the sun gone, nothing but eternal night.

It would be all love bombing until the tadpoles are gone, then slowly taking more and more control while making Ashe think she wanted that. Her role as his consort is to be his protector and his blade, his most trusted weapon, his beloved slayer.

Ashe is a tiefling, so I think Ascended Astarion would also make awful comments on how demonic/monstrous she looks and comment on how she must be a pet if she wags that tail so stupidly anytime she thinks she might get a treat. He'd be verbally cruel, physically rough, but try to throw in some honeyed words of love and affection to keep Ashe pliable. He may have her under his thumb, but it IS easier to placate the pet.

And Astarion would drive a wedge between Ashe and the other spawn. I think he would bank on Ashe's loneliness to push her further toward him, so he is all she has. I think he would need to be her entire world tbh

Astarion sometimes disappears for days at a time, sucked into whatever conquest he's been working on, then come back and be intimate like there was no actual widening chasm between them. He gives Ashe EVERYTHING. Nice clothes, rare jewelry, expensive instruments. He does spoil his pet rotten, but all of that is undercut by his pointed cruelty when he wants to kinda enforce that he has all this power and there's nothing Ashe can do.

[dragonfire2lm]

Baldur's Gate 3 headcanon/AU thingy: Acespec Tav

So, I'm still figuring out what my Tav OC is going to look like, what class she is (all I know is that she's going to be a charisma character), but I had the beginnings of an idea and wanted to share it. So, let me know what you think.

It was another quiet night in camp and Tav was doing her rounds, checking in on her friends, making sure they were comfortable, listening to their troubles.

But she had noticed the odd looks Lae'zel had been giving her, and concerned that perhaps she had upset the gith in some way, she asked about it.

To hear Lae'zel's interest in her was certainly flattering, but unwanted, and Tav did the best she could to explain that she wasn't attracted to women, nor interested in sex.

It was Lae'zel's response that had Tav bristling like a cat. Whether it was the harshness in which the words were spoken, or the words themselves, Tav recoiled.

She was reminded that she was different, lacking in such a base, universal experience that Lae'zel's reply to being rejected, more than likely snapped out in defense of her own emotions, hurt. And it pained her more than she thought.

"I am not interested in anyone!" Tav snapped back. "I cannot grasp, cannot fathom the very idea of looking at others and wishing to bed them, and I suppose I should thank you, my friend, for reminding that I am lacking in such wants."

It was perhaps too harsh, she knew, but as the others in the camp heard the commotion and headed over, all Tav could feel was a sense of inadequacy, of guilt.

She was different, and that pained her more than anything when her friends could express such wants and desires so freely, When Lae'zel looked confused by the notion that Tav just didn't feel attracted to anyone. And similar looks of confusion flitted across the faces of the others.

There would be questions, maybe even an attempt to brush her off, that had certainly happened with others in the past before she had been abducted. Tav did not want to face such scrutiny, such disbelief from those she cared for.

So, she excused herself and left for the far edges of camp.

She didn't notice that Astarion was not looking at her in confusion, but rather like a puzzle piece had fallen into place. She scurried off into the bushes.

Scratch had followed, the dog had sensed her distress and cuddled up to her as she sat on a rock. She waited for not only her own hurt to ease, but for enough time to pass so that she could sneak back to her bedroll once everyone else was asleep.

Imagine her surprise when Astarion found her in her hiding spot sometime later. She watched him, wary, and a little bit afraid. Not because he was a vampire, but because her biggest secret had been outed to the whole camp, her difference, her defect.

It was the first words out of his mouth that stopped that fear in its tracks.

"I've seen that reaction before," he said. "I don't quite get it myself mind you, but I have seen it before."

"Have you now?" She replied as she waited for the other shoe to drop.

The vampire picked his way through the dense brush and sat beside her on the rock. He didn't look put out that she clearly didn't believe him. In fact the vampire was practically respectful about it.

"I've met people in the past, who don't find anyone attractive, and it's not because they dislike my most charming self," He explained with a gesture to himself. "It's just how they are, and some wanted to have sex, others just weren't interested at all. Personally I don't see why the idea seems to be so hard to believe."

"Well," Tav began and found herself struggling with words for once. A rare thing indeed for the group's wordsmith. She sighed. "I suppose the night can't get any worse...People seem to mistake my kindness, my sincerity for flirting a lot of the time, and i have yet to find someone who would be interested in romance without sex. Too often others take offense when I turn them down..."

"And Lae'zel's rather sharp retort struck a nerve?" Astarion guessed and she nodded. "You know she's not the only one who's interested in you right? She's just the most blunt about it."

"And yet more friendships turned to dust." Tav lamented. "Why did i ever think otherwise?"

And here Astarion looked surprised. "Whatever do you mean by that? Do you really think that...the others would just leave you on the roadside because you don't reciprocate their feelings?"

"Would not be the first time, I assure you," She replied. She did notice his hesitation when he mentioned the rest of the group. "I wouldn't blame you, or them, if that was the case."

"Look," Astarion began, he looked frustrated, whether with her, Lae'zel, or something else entirely she couldn't tell. "I can't speak for the others, but I know damn well I am not going to simply cut ties with you because of this."

"We need to work together to get to the bottom of the tadpoles in our heads, and the cult of The Absolute, I know." Tav replied.

"Well, yes," Astarion agreed. "But you are missing quite the important point in that I genuinely enjoy your company, dare I say I consider a friend in the short time we've been travelling together."

"Oh...I didn't want to assume, you'd been through a lot as is, and I wanted to make sure you had space." Tav replied. "while I hope I can call everyone here a friend, I didn't want to push the idea on anyone. Can't please everyone after all."

"You're not getting rid of me any time soon," Astarion smirked. A thought occurred to him and he looked at her curiously. "Though after tonight, I do wonder, are you interested in romance at all? People like you tend to separate sex and romance and I for one woudl like to know where you stand on the topic."

He held his hands up placatingly and added. "If you want to share such thoughts that is, I find such talks interesting, but I won't pry."

"I take it you find them interesting because of how it differs from your experiences?" Tav asked.

"And I find that it makes a lot of sense when you think about it," Astarion replied. "People can certainly have sex without the need for romantic attachments, so romance without sex is more than possible. And I do so love the look of bafflement on people's faces when I point that out."

He grinned. "People get so shocked, scandalized even, about the mere concept of someone courting another without sex being on the table. It's hilarious."

Tav cracked a smile at that. Maybe she could trust him with this. Maybe, just once, she could trust she wouldn't be seen as some immature, naive waif in need of being fixed or shown a good time.

"I like romance," she explained as she ran a hand through Scratch's fur, the dog keeping an eye and ear out while the two of them talked. "I think its a beautiful concept, a wonderful idea that shouldn't need sex to be a part of it, that shouldn't result in friendships being seen as lesser, that is just one kind of love, not the ultimate expression of it."

"And..." Tav continued. "Ultimately not for me it seems. As much as I would want it for myself, I've never met anyone willing to give what I want a chance...and with this tadpole I doubt I'll have the chance to do so."

Astarion listened patiently, she was surprised he was even hearing her out. Normally she would be the one lending an ear to him, to anyone at camp who needed someone to confide in, or simply someone to talk to who wouldn't judge.

She was even more surprised when he asked. "And what do you want?"

"You'll think me childish," she replied.

"Darling, I've seen you bleat at a redcap and found it funny, I don't care if you're childish," Astarion pointed out. "In fact, I encourage it, life is a bit dull if you never have fun."

"Well alright," Tav said. "I don't fall i love with someone's appearance, I don't look at people and want to be their partner. But I fall in love with who someone is as a person, how much I trust him, how well we get along. It's just another layer of feelings on top of a friendship already as strong as adamantine...That hasn't really happened in a long time."

"So no interest in women, looks like Lae'zel was barking up the wrong tree," Astarion commented. "And falling for someone's, shall we say inner beauty, instead of the initial draw to their outward appearance is uncommon, but not unheard of."

"But not the accepted standard." Tav said plainly.

"As someone who experiences the accepted standard, trust me, it's a lot more of a hassle than people think it is," Astarion replied. "Anyway, do continue."

"You're actually interested in my ramblings on romance?" Tav asked.

"I did say I find it interesting," Astarion said. "And I sort of told Lae'zel to go fuck a gnoll earlier and I'm hiding until she calms down."

"Oh gods, you didn't!"

"I'd never seen you so upset!" he admitted. "Mind flayers, hags, goblins...vampire spawn...I'm certain you could stare The Dead Three in the face and not so much as flinch...but one of our own expressing interest in you and then lashing out when you reject them caused you to recoil like that...Well...Like I said, I'd seen that reaction before."

"And you told her to fuck a gnoll..." Tav couldn't help but let out a small snort of laughter. "How are you not dead?"

"I said something about showing you the same courtesy you've shown all of us and here I am." He replied with a flourish.

"Well, I suppose I should indulge your curiosity as thanks for having my back," Tav awkwardly said. "I've never really had anyone be in my corner about this...So, right, romance...what do you want to know?"

"From the sounds of it you'd be interested in a romantic relationship, what do you want out of one if you were to say, get to know someone andthey confessed their love to you?" Astarion asked. "Hypothetically speaking of course."

Was he up to something? She couldn't tell.

"This stays between us right?" Tav asked hesitantly.

And here Astarion scoffed. "If you think I'm trying to get intel to pass on to the others, the answer is no, I'm not. This is our little secret."

"Good, I've already made enough of a fool of myself today," Tav replied. "i suppose if I did wind up in a romantic relationship, We'd talk things out, set boundaries, make sure neither of us feel forced to do anything they don't want, have everyone on the same page...then I'd probably by the person flowers."

"Flowers?"

"I know, normally the men buy the women flowers, but it's still a sweet gesture that I think should be reciprocated," Tav replied. "along with going to dinner, or lunch, or just going and doing an activity as a couple, having fun in much the same way one would with friends, but with the knowledge and intent that is romantic in context."

"And I suppose living together and having children in somewhere in that domestic little fantasy of yours too?" Astarion quipped.

"If only I were so lucky, but yes. I'd adopt," Tav admitted. "Even before the tadpole I was never healthy enough to risk carrying a child, and never really thought about children of my own, money has always been a bit too tight for that, but if I had the money, the time, the freedom to do that...I'd like to take in an older kid, ones who tend to be ignored in favour of the little ones, you know?"

"You've never really spoken about your life prior to being abducted," Astarion noted. "But...that makes a lot of sense from what you have shared about yourself....and you care an awful lot about making sure we have enough money."

"I wasn't poor, if that's what you mean," Tav said. "But not upper class either, always had to plan ahead with how much money to spend, never had the freedom to really go on a spending spree or indulge myself."

"Hm, I'll have to see about changing that..." Astarion said. "Maybe slip a few coins off some unsuspecting folks to lighten the burden?"

"And I'll talk our way out of trouble if you get caught," Tav replied.

"If I get caught."

"You needn't go through the trouble on my account." Tav insisted. "We make do, don't we?"

"And I happen to think you should have the chance to splurge a bit, buy yourself something nice," Astarion replied. "When we reach a larger city, I'll take you shopping."

"Really?"

"Yes, you, me, a small mountain of coin, and everything the world has to offer, what do you say?" He said and nudged her palyfully.

"Sounds like fun, if we can get the gold to afford it."

"You just leave that to me," He replied. "Do you think we can wander back to camp without a certain Gith trying to cut our heads off?"

"I'll talk her down, you might have to apologize..."

"Darling, you and I both know I won't mean it."

"Yes but, thank you for sticking up for me." Tav said. "Hopefully i can smooth things over with everyone once I figure out who else is interested in me..."

"Well, I could tell you," Astarion pointed out. "But I think I'll watch you figure it out for yourself."

"It's everyone, isn't it?"

"There's no harm in asking them, you know." He said. "After that little row with Lae'zel I doubt you'll have to deal with anyone reacting as harshly as she did."

No harm in asking?

And so, Tav asked The Pale Elf what he thought of her.

[danse--macabre]

can't recall whether you've brought this up before—do you imagine that astarion seeks out + ever finds a cure for his condition? what do you picture his life with tira and(/or) ch'lakhou looking like twenty or thirty years down the road?

(hope the rest of your day looks up from here <3)

thank you for these questions! <3

do you imagine that astarion seeks out + ever finds a cure for his condition?

I don't think he purposefully seeks it out unless pushed. His trauma-informed cynicism means he's likely to dismiss the possibility of a cure as a childish fantasy, even if it is quite plausible -- he'd rather live in denial and refuse to 'get his hopes up'. If you put a cure right in front of his nose, I think on some level he'd be upset at its existence – partially because it seems to render a lot of the suffering he's gone through even more pointless, partially because it wasn't there earlier when he really needed it. Easier, in some ways, to imagine the world a bleak place. In the spawn ending, I think some of this cynicism does ease over time - but I think he still has issues with concepts like 'hope', especially when you're approaching such a sore, sensitive subject (his own vampirism). There's also the fact that his arc in the game is about coming to terms with his own vampirism as part of who he is (which is a key distinction between spawn/ascension as endings), and I think he'd find it... deeply bitter, that after years of torture and then slow, difficult work of self-acceptance, that then comes a cure, after he's finally come to terms with it.

As for whether he'd actually take the cure? Yes, honestly. I think he would. Being a vampire sucks. Even if 'a way to walk in the sun again' is found, there's still that constant hunger, there's still the real fear he'll be hunted, there's still a thousand other things which make living a normal life impossible. Acceptance of it doesn't make it less shitty, IMO. A couple of points on this, though:

I've seen people argue Astarion wouldn't want to undergo such a huge change to his body again. I would agree in the case of most things but I think a cure to vampirism would probably be the one exception. Especially if it is the way to walk in the sun again that he finds.

I know some people are fond of the idea that vampirism as a loose metaphor for how trauma can change you utterly (& thus there is value in the spawn ending), but I'm personally of the opinion that removing vampirism wouldn't be easy or painless? It would not be a cure-all, for sure. For one, that trauma hasn't disappeared, those 200+ years of Cazador are still going to haunt him. I also think after 200+ years it'd be a huge lifestyle readjustment, and furthermore, I don't think Astarion could just pick up his 'old life' so to speak - he's still lost a lot of memories/contacts, he's still got a 200+ year long gap that makes forming connections weirder/harder when people ask casual questions about your past (how do you explain to a relatively normal person you're trying to befriend that you weren't able to celebrate your 200th birthday because you were a vampire enslaved by a vampire lord). I think he would feel disconnected from a lot of ordinary people on ordinary trajectories and probably couldn't just settle down somewhere and have an ordinary life, really, it'd be too jarring. There's also having to accept that he's physically weaker, more vulnerable, & also has to contend with death now, etc. but those are more minor points. Personally? I think how he manages to cope with these changes is an interesting narrative to explore.

So essentially, 'no he would not seek it out; yes he would absolutely take it if offered'.

what do you picture his life with tira and(/or) ch'lakhou looking like twenty or thirty years down the road?

astarion + tirazel: settled in the underdark in a small mage/vampire settlement involving a faction of the 7k spawn. tirazel & a number of mages who are interested in necromancy & vampirism exchange blood in return for willing test subjects for necromantic research. tirazel is wrapped up in her research and wants to find astarion a way to walk in the sun. astarion flits between staying with her there and occasionally going off on independent hunts or even adventures of his own. relative wealth: tirazel spends much of it investing in the settlement, but she makes a lot from her wizardry. some tension r.e. tirazel devoting her whole life to him + his condition, which they deal with by breaking up for six months before then meeting again and working through it.

astarion + ch'lakhou: travelling. I think they're both travelling adventurers who do odd jobs and get by while exploring the world they both haven't seen enough of. occasionally they'll do something heroic. most of the time, though, they're just doing something fun and dangerous. not an easy lifestyle, but it allows them control & freedom. plus they have each others' company. they're not particularly rich, i imagine, and perhaps material possessions are in short supply, but they're happy. i think they joke often about retiring to a sunny beach resort further down south one of these days.

astarion + ch'lakhou + tirazel: a mixture of travelling, stopping, staying in a settlement for a year or three, then moving on with phases of travelling again. tirazel may be more static while astarion & ch'lakhou are more dynamic.

in all cases, it's not perfect, it's not always easy, but there's a lot of love.

[malklavian]

thinking about my bg3 playthrough (ass-cended ass-tarion and durge thoughts-dump, some spoilers)

ascended ass-tarion got me feeling things, such a perfect match with my durge. que me just sighing dreamily of this evil as FUCK, UNHINGED duo.

so I RPed my Durge to be at first scared shitless of his mysterious urges, acting nice and heroic and doing good deeds as kind of like a way to surpress those feelings and act normal, focus on his empathy and use it to help people, tho secretly enjoying the bloodbath of his own creation, and the two of them in the beginning had these tense interactions and i'm pretty sure they could each sense in one another that they were fake as fuck, hiding behind these pretty, elaborate masks and lying through their teeth, and still kind of dancing around one another in this intriguing game of guessing, push and pull, seduction

and then as time goes on they both gradually let down their guards and both basically find out they're quite similar, and as durge learns of his bhaal stuff and astarion ascends they both ease into being unapologetically power-hungry and unhinged and obviously have huge control and dominance and obsession issues, and they bring out the best and the absolute worst in each other and throughout all their flaws and shortcomings... they accept one another as they are even when all others leave their side, and i think that's beautiful... as far as dark fictional romances go. ofc they're both completely off the rails in actuality, toxic as all FUCK beyond one's wildest imagination, like when they get into fights over the stupidest shit and it lasts for fucking decades or whatever and then they get back together again only to backstab each other again soon enough. they probably break up at least a dozen a times a century but they always come crawling right back to one another. tho the s3x they have down the line must be absolutely fucking insane, my god...

and also idc about canon, I just know that my durge ascended astarion and took the gift but did not become his slave or anything

i just imagine the scene going on where astarion is more or less convinced durge is gonna kneel and take it, then just durge grabs him by the jaw and is like 'know your place baby vampire you forget yourself, i made you and i could still end you in an instant' and then they almost kill each other but they don't, and eventually durge caves (durge loves to be slapped around hard every once in a while, come on) and then later on durge controls the brain but gives his allies and those worthy free will, and astarion realises again that he once again is subservient to someone and that kind of stings heh but oh well- it's never impossible to make changes to the arrangements again, if one plays their cards right...

actually i think my durge would give nearly everyone free will just for entertainment (kind of like playing sims and turning on free will and watching them piss themselves and die in their own kitchen fires) up until people start getting a bit too disobedient for his liking

and then of course he'd get too cocky and too in love with his own existence and power and murder, and some brave adventurers eventually take him down and he goes down gloriously. and then it's astarion to the rescue, because as much as they bring out the worst in one another, they're absolutely fucking obsessed with each other. they very much have serious issues but they have all of eternity to work through that, or get even WORSE

now that would be an interesting idea if i ever decide to develop a mini dnd campaign. the evil twink demi god villain and his vampire lord bf the power couple who rule an entire realm. kind of like the whole thing with strahd

or maybe it's canon for my durge that he gets so cocky that he defies daddy murder god at some point, either by destroying the brain or something else, and then is stuck in that bad bhaal ending and hunts and begs his friends to kill him. that's such a disturbing ending, i love it. idk if astarion would want to keep him in that state, too much trouble, he'd either give the mercy kill he yearns for or obsessively search for the cure and tear the whole world asunder in the process, depending on when and how that exactly happens

such a fucking DISASTER, i love it. people usually say that ass-cended ass-tarion is bad for him but idk, i dig the narrative. and at first i felt bad about my character 'suddenly' turning evil because it seemed ooc due to how 'good-aligned' he was up to the bhaal reveal but i explain it to myself that he even had ME fooled with this act of being a reedemable good guy he had going on. all around a very interesting playthrough, gg

[starions]

Do SING and HAND, please. Both not exactly easy, I know...

( SING ) singing to mine.

Anya would frequently have nightmares as a child. She didn’t know why she was prone to them, but her young elf mind would always wander to night terrors during her meditation. An enormous white wolf, with piercing red eyes and saliva strings falling off its sharp fangs would haunt her nightly. The image would send her into hysterics, but her mother was always there to calm her down with a song.

“Lace your heart with mine

Let your sleeping soul take flight

Take me through the night

Down down down by the river

Down down down by the river”

She’d fall back into her trance to the sound of her mother’s voice, and would for years even into her late childhood. Her mother died a few years after she reached her elven adulthood, and although she hadn’t heard her mother’s voice since then, she still sang the song to herself. A way to self soothe, she supposed; a way to feel less alone when the world felt like it was closing in on her.

It had been a while since she had any sort of nightmare, but with the tadpole swimming in her brain, they seemed to come every time she closed her eyes. Not a wolf, though; a person beckoning her to give in--to relish in the power bestowed to her. Anya realized yet again how much she needed her mother; not only to sing her a song, but to tell her not to indulge in the power granted to her.

The last tadpole dream lit of fire of fear in her, so much so that she didn’t dare to close her eyes and slip into her meditation. She always thought it would be fun to bend the minds of those who made contact with her--but this was all becoming too much. Anya feared that by using the tadpole power too often, she’d become a slave to it.

So, while her companions were dead asleep in their tents away from the fire, Anya began to hum the melody of her mother’s song. Then, gradually, sing it so quietly it could barely be heard over the crackle of the fire.

“That’s a lovely song.”

Anya nearly jumped in her skin at the voice, and whipped her head around to Astarion, who was watching her as he leaned against a tree. His red eyes looked at her curiously, his head tilted slightly. This was the first time Astarion had seen that bitter facade of hers crack since they’d met a week previously.

“It’s not meant for your ears,” Anya said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ears and gazing back at the fire.

“How rude,” Astarion said, hand to his heart. “I don’t give compliments easily, you know.”

“And I didn’t ask for one in the first place,” Anya snapped back. The two mirrored a glare at each other for a moment before Anya broke the gaze. “These nightmares have me on edge.” 

Not an apology, but Astarion wasn’t expecting one anyway. Still, he peeled himself off from the tree and sat down next to the sun elf. When she didn’t object, he allowed his shoulders to relax. When they both stared at the fire in silence, Astarion glanced at her from the corner of her eye. She was hugging her knees, fingers toying with the new hole in the hole of her leather pants.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Astarion said suddenly.

“What?” Anya asked, snapping back to reality.

“You can keep singing.”

“Oh,” Anya said simply. Anya hugged herself tighter. She felt vulnerable like this, even though Astarion had no idea about her mother, what the song meant to her. Still, the song would ease the feeling on loneliness and fear in her heart. She’d give up her pride if it meant connecting with her mother for just a moment, just until the song ended.

Anya glanced at Astarion, whose piercing red eyes never left her, and stared again at the fire. Then, her lips parted, and she began to sing.

( HAND ) kissing mine’s hand. - under a cut because the last one got too long T_T

“So, you were a bard... before all this?”

Anya glanced from the blood spotted map of the Sword Coast. She was in the midst of deciding which route to take to avoid the gnolls in the Risen Road before she was rudely interrupted by pale elf from over her shoulder.

Anya frowned slightly before asking, “where did you hear that?”

“I overheard you tell Wyll over a few too many glasses of wine last night,” Astarion said. “Your tongue loosens easily, you know.”

Anya cursed her lightweightness and rolled the map in her hand up, putting it in her pack. “Do you eavesdrop on everyone’s conversations, or is it just mine?”

“Oh my dear,” Astarion said with a laugh. “Everyone's. But I’m more curious about you and your secrets. I can’t invision you as a bard, though. You aren’t very cheery.”

“I wasn’t a bard,” Anya said, motioning for the rest of the party to follow her on a hidden trail. “I sang in inns. There’s a difference.”

“And I suppose you learned your rogue tricks in between sets?” Astarion said playfully.

Anya would hardly call herself a rogue either--she was never taught by a master, she means. In truth, Anya was mainly self taught. After she fled Baldur’s Gate, she had to learn to steal without being seen, lockpick barn doors to find a place to sleep at night, things like that. When she got a job as a singer in an inn in Neverwinter, she was allowed to stay for free in return for the tips she’d make each night. She learned quickly that people were stingy, so she began to pickpocket to make sure she didn’t end up in the streets. And to buy the gold necklaces she saw in the shop windows.

“I could ask the same to you,” Anya said, “how did a vampire slave learn his tricks?”

“Cazador had me do much more than seduce nobles; what is a man to do when he finds his coin purse gone on the stroll home?”

Anya gazed up at him with a smile. “He asks for help? And finds you with open arms?”

“Precisely.” 

“Did that work every time? Some of them must forget about it and carry on...” Anya learned a lot as her time as an inn singer. Men liked to talk--about themselves really--and they liked a pretty girl goading them on. She would get someone talking at the inn, ask them questions about themselves with faux interest, and when they were in the midst of their storytelling she’d reach toward the coin purse dangling from the belt and--

Astarion caught her wrist right as her fingers brushed the fabric of the purse. He looked down at her, bringing her hand toward his mouth. “You must be stupid to think you can try that with me,” he purred, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand. He parted his lips slightly, letting a fang prick her flesh.

Anya yanked her hand away with a scowl, inspecting her hand for blood. She was relieved to see he didn’t break skin. “You talk too much.”

[owlespresso]

Glad your requests are open again! Could I get some Astarion with an s/o that is into biting?

Ask and ye shall receive!  If you like this work and would like to support me and what I do, consider taking a peek at my ko-fi, which can be found here: https://ko-fi.com/owlespresso

The grass is dulled with the first touches of winter. It’s only a week into the lifeless season, yet the temperatures have taken a nose dive. Which is why you count your blessings now, staring up at the grey skies, back nestled against the dying foliage. 

It’s going to snow, soon. The eerie swarm of clouds that hangs above the forest tells you as much, but you remain where you are, taking comfort in knowing shelter is only a few steps away.

It would be a shame to move when Astarion is seated right next to you, having plopped himself down of his own accord. You like to think it’s significant progress, given the open disdain he didn’t hesitate to show you during the first days of your travels.

He’s been rattling on about the last battle you found yourselves in, complaining at the sudden change in weather, and theorizing the parasite that’s nestled snuggly within your brains. Just jumping from one topic to the next as though he’s been bottling all these thoughts up, waiting to dump them on the first person he can trust to listen.

You have to wonder if you’re the closest person to him among your little group. Does he seek you out more than he seeks the others, or are you just imagining it? Just hoping for it?

You wrinkle your nose and try not to think about it, feel a flush of relief when he at last quiets. 

Not that you ever want him to stop speaking, not with that velvety voice of his. But you try to keep your thoughts distinctly away from your looming, seemingly inevitable fate. You try to preserve and fan the flames of your hope.

“Do you… have you ever gotten tired of it, yet?” you ask him, staring up at the harsh, grey skies. Winter’s bitter tinge has long crept across your skin and hooked its claws into your bones, even through your thick sleeves. “All of the traveling? And relying on our companions?

Astarion gives a small huff. His gaze remains stuck on the forest that stands on the other side of the brook. Its branches have been picked clean by the changing seasons. He’s thinking, you realize, about his next meal. About the next forest creature he will descend upon with teeth and daggers, about the next unsuspecting morsel he’ll prey upon.

The thought makes you swallow. Not out out fear, but something distinctly different. A warm, gooey feeling you don’t want to think about.

“Please. This is the freest I’ve been in the last two hundred years. I will gladly take the wretched swamps and mile long treks over Cazador’s dingy dungeons. Any day. In a heartbeat—someone else’s, of course, given the state of mine.”

His gaze sweeps from the cluttered horizon to sweep up and down your lounged body, lingering on the swell of your hips, the round of your chest. He studies with an open fascination that makes you want to curl up and away from him. It’s a keen intrigue, something deep-seated and predatory. Even after traveling with him for two weeks, you’re still defenseless against his low, crooning voice and hooded, sultry gazes.

“Mm,” you hum in acknowledgement, because you’re not sure what else to say to that.

“As for our merry little band of miscreants… you depend on me as much as I depend on you. It’s an even trade, as far as I’m concerned,” he waves off your concerns with little to no concern, bringing a knee to his chest whilst the other leg remains stretched out in front of him. “And if you’re worried about my personal opinion on you all as individuals... well, let’s just say I have my favorites.”

“And where do I fall on your list?” you can’t help but ask, genuinely curious rather than teasing. You can see your breath in the air, your words coming out as a frosty plume. They come out without thinking, and for a brief moment you nearly panic. Heat rises to your cheeks as you struggle for the words to walk it back. 

“Oh, you? Well, you’re my favorite,” he replies with smooth ease, his voice dipping down to a sultry purr. The grass shifts and crunches underneath him as he shifts to lean over you, fixing you with a wry smile. All too soon, you’re reminded of a few nights ago, him hunched over your neck, eyes alight like a predator’s. The now nearly faded marks on your throb with the memory. His handsome profile, lit softly by firelight. 

“Really?” 

“Of course. No one else in our merry little band has offered themselves up on a silver platter. I’m quite sure they would balk at the idea of feeding a vampire. I can think of a few who would come at me with a stake as soon as I revealed my true nature,” he sighs languidly, a hand reaching down to cup your cheek. His palm is cold against your skin, but your breath hitches and you shut your eyes, allowing him to nudge your face to the side, revealing the stretch of your neck to him. “So pliant, too. Though I would prefer to think this aspect of your personality is reserved for me and me alone.”

“Well, I’m not going to roll over for just anyone,” you assure him with a roll of your eyes. There’s no bite in your voice, but you feel a roll of warm anticipation hit your gut when he fixes you with a keen gaze.

“Consider me flattered. And most grateful. Might I encroach upon your kindness just a tad more this afternoon?” His eyes are hooded, his smile widening because he knows you’ll agree. You exhale shakily.

“Go ahead,” you shut your eyes, brace yourself for the hook of his teeth into your waiting flesh.

“You are a delight,” he flatters shamelessly. His breath brushes against your skin, prompting goosebumps to raise along your arms. Your heart thump, thump, thumps against your ribs like a bird’s wings against the bars of its gilded cage. 

He can hear it, his eyelids lowering, smile widening as he ghosts lips across your neck. He explores slowly, drifting slow kisses from the crook of your shoulder to the curve of your jaw. Each osculation is more tender than the last, but you still sigh and shudder, shutting your eyes because you cannot bear to see his smug expression.

As cool as his skin is, it’s still warmer than the wintry air that surrounds you. One of your hands tentatively rests on his shoulder, the other rests at your side. He’s incorrigibly good with both hands and lips, fingers of his unoccupied hand giving your right breast a faint squeeze, earning a surprised splutter. 

You don’t realize your flustered expression has tinged with fear until he begins to croon at you.

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, darling,” he soothes, and voice curling with mock sympathy. “You’re doing so well, so good for me.”

Oh, fuck. That only makes it worse. Your cunt throbs, your clothes suddenly feeling too thick, too heavy. The mere anticipation of the bite is enough to make you wet, panties sticking to the plush give of your folds. The renewed shame of it mixes with heady arousal, creating a cocktail of sensations that leaves you squirming underneath him before he’s even taken a bite. 

“You know, I’m beginning to think these little whines and trembles of your are from more than just trepidation. Am I correct in that assumption?” Goddamn him and his blabbering mouth. Your eyes snap open to fix him with a glare, but he only smiles wider.

All you can do is concentrate on keeping breathing even as the very tips of his fangs drag over your skin. Each tender kiss and caress feels like it stretches beyond the span of mere moments, slipping into minutes and maybe hours. Your palms sweat, your eyes stare up at the dulled sky.

Slowly, he journeys from the line of your jaw to the middle of your neck. Once, twice, three times he grazes his sharp fangs over the same spot. Your fingers curl tight into the fabric of his jacket, thighs pressing together—

He bites. Your fingers twitch and your grip tightens, helplessly curled in the fabric of his stupid fancy shirt. The sheer cold of his fangs presses deep into the flesh of your throat, his efforts rewarded with a gush of fresh, sweet blood. This is the part you like the most, you think. The rush of the ambrosia connects the two of you in a way you’ve never experienced with another person before. He drinks deep, enjoys your very being, your very essence—

If you were less drunk off the pleasure of being torn into so intimately, perhaps you’d wonder if this is the only reason why he claims to enjoy your company so much. 

But a second squeeze to your breast robs you of that coherency. Black spots are already beginning to swim at the edges of your vision, consciousness growing hazy as he continues to indulge, gorging himself on you entirely.

“Astarion,” you find it in yourself to rasp, feebly tugging on his shirt as you feel yourself beginning to drift away, into an inky, vast blankness. You’re not sure if he’s going to stop, you realize, but what frightens you more is that you don’t entirely mind.

The thought is shoved to the very recesses of your mind as he blessedly pulls away with a gasp. His lips are stained red, and your gaze glues to his tongue as it peeks out and swipes over them. Slowly. As though he’s savoring your flavor as much as he can before he gulps the final droplets down. 

“Delectable,” he sighs, hair tousled, pupils dilated. “Are you alright, darling?”

“Feel a little funny. Nothing a snack and a nap can’t fix,” you mumble. Your arms feel like jelly as you press them to the frosted earth, feebly attempting to lift yourself off the ground.

“Ah, ah. There’s no need to push yourself,” he tuts, pushing himself to his feet with nimble ease. A stray beam of sun dips through the clouds. It casts his hair and pale skin in a light most vibrant. Looking up at him like this allows you to admire the strong cut of his jaw, the fine arch of his nose. You’re so dazed by both fatigue and his beauty that you almost forget to take the hand he offers you.

You take it. His fingers are cold, but warmer than the chilled air around you. A harsh contrast to the warm, near fervent gaze he fixes on you as you stand beside him.