#normally i prefer not ascended astarion but.

[deviouz]

. . . mean!ascended astarion headcanons !!

Something about Astarion’s ascension had changed him, mind, body, and soul. His very chemistry had been altered, everything that had made him him, was rewritten. He had always said that it was for the best, that he was better in every way imaginable after gaining such heightened powers, but that day was troubling for you. Astarion, your Astarion, had died. Nothing perturbed him more than seeing that far off, longing expression etched into your features whenever you thought he wasn’t looking. Gods know he’ll make you regret it later.

“And just what was going on in that pretty little head of yours earlier, my sweet consort? You couldn’t possibly have been thinking about him, could you? No, that simply won’t do. Perhaps all could be forgiven if you get down to your knees and grovel before me. I’m feeling rather nice today, as it is, so beg and I might be tempted to show you a sliver of mercy.”

Astarion is no stranger to any kind of public displays, but he seems to be much keener on doing so in front of his inferiors. To look upon a crowd of people who are no doubt petrified of their ascended vampire lord alone is invigorating, but to be able to do so with you mindlessly rutting away on his thigh makes him feel much more powerful. To have the savior of Baldur’s Gate rendered down to a pleasure-driven pet, and all his for taking, is just one of the many ways he rules with an iron fist. He’ll have one hand on your hip, guiding you along the fine fabric of his pants, and the other propping his head up as he looks amongst the crowd with a smirk. It was completely and utterly humiliating the first few times he had called for your presence and demanded you to undress completely in front of so many people, but he had long since bullied those thoughts out of your head.

“Yes, that’s it. Come on, darling, you can moan louder than that. I would certainly know. Let them see how well I treat the savior of Baldur’s Gate.”

Your lover could be cruel at times, but nothing ever felt crueler than when he would relentlessly pound into your aching heat with such fervor you were sure you’d be unable to walk come the early hours of the morning. He simply adored pinning your hands above your head, his hips rutting in such a way that it made your eyes roll back and clamp shut. The pleasure was almost always too much yet never enough. It didn’t matter how prettily you begged for astarion, for your lord. He was cruel in these moments. With a grip to your jaw, he’d squeeze your cheeks together and demand you to gaze into his crimson eyes. Astarion relished in witnessing the glassy fog that overtook your irises each and every time you came around his cock, body perfectly bowed and cries loud enough to reverberate in the room, perhaps the entire castle. He was the only one ever capable enough to draw such intense pleasure from your body. He’d kill anyone who ever even thought of you in such a way.

“Ah, ah, ah. look at me, won’t you? Let me see lust-laden those eyes when I grant you such ecstasy. Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Oh, how Astarion loved to hear those pathetic little pleas and blubbering begs escape past kiss-swollen lips. Your teary eyes read nothing but desperation, and that much was evident by the way your hips twitched and gyrated each time his touch would disappear. Of course, you had Astarion practically wrapped around your finger. All it took was a few slow, desperate blinks and a couple of soft pleas to have your way, but that was long before he had ascended. Now, Astarion would have you beg, long and loud, until your voice went hoarse and lungs felt as if they were going to give out. He would do this all the while smiling so sweetly down at you, a type of sickly sweet that made goosebumps dot across your skin and all the hairs on your body stand up.

“Come on, darling, don’t be so coy. This coquettish nature is long since necessary. Let me hear those pretty pleas and I will grant you such immense pleasure.”

Astarion’s ascension had brought something new from the depths of what was left of his depraved soul. He relished in your tears. The sheer vulnerability carved into such perfect, delicate features, and all by his doing? Oh, he simply adored it. Nothing is sweeter than seeing you write and sob in his arms, teetering on the edge of your umpteenth orgasm of the night, yet he wasn’t even halfway done with you. You’re a shuddering, sweating, and sobbing mess of numb limbs and can’t help but spew out a cacophony of desperate begs for his relent, but it is never really that easy. Not with Astarion, anyhow. On the other hand, he could be just as equally cruel and spend the entire day bringing you to the blissful edge of what was sure to be a mind-shattering orgasm, over and over and over again, just to practically laugh in your face and deny it. You can pout and grovel all you’d like, but your pleasure is his and his alone. Astarion is the only one who gets to decide when and where you are allowed the pleasure, and sometimes displeasure, of an orgasm, and it’s something he instills in your mind every now and again.

“Really now, pet, did you really think that I was finished with you? Oh, you poor thing — you are quite mistaken. The night has only just begun, after all, and I haven’t had my fill yet, so you will sit there, nice and pretty, and take what I give you with every ounce of gratitude that delectable body of yours can muster.”

[grandmother-goblin]

Since the full game came out and we got all of Astarion’s story, I feel like I’ve seen a lot of people… de-fang him? If that makes sense?Especially with the spawn ending (spawn ending is my preferred ending too which makes me doubly bummed)

Here’s what I mean. Astarion is a little shit. A little shit who has been through a whole lot of terrible things, but he’s still a jackass. Even at the end of the game (only talking about a Good run where he doesn’t Ascend here), even when he softens a bit and doesn’t hate Tav helping people and being nice, even after he falls in love, he is still a jerk.

And I LOVE that Astarion is an asshole. It’s honestly one of my favorite qualities of his. It’s what made me like his character in the first place was that I wanted to figure out what made him “like that.”

It feels like, especially with a lot of recent fan art and fan fic (all lovely! Please don’t get me wrong! I’m not pointing fingers at anyone in particular) he’s been re-interpreted as almost too soft. Especially in regards to sex and romance.

I could go on, but I really don’t want people to light me on fire lol. It’s probably just a me thing, but it bums me out that a lot of people’s reactions (at least from what I’ve seen, I’m no doubt missing things) to his backstory is to have Romanced!Tav handle him as if he were made of porcelain rather than treat him like a normal person.

[preciouslittlebhaalbabe3]

Thoughts about Ascended Astarion! (This is a long one, and I'm not trying to change anyones opinion, just highlighting the fact that the player is in complete control of the situation at all times. This game is about choices.) First off, I don't usually prefer to ascend him. But I love all versions of Astarion. His character is so well written and all of his arcs deserve praise and attention no matter what your personal opinion of them are. The devs did an incredible job. If any parts of his arc (ascended or spawn) make you uncomfortable, then romancing him isn't for you. If the dynamic between AA and your character makes you feel scared or upset, don't ascend him. That dynamic is supposed to be 100% consentual. He's a tough nut to crack and his story can be very triggering. I myself broke down a few times hearing him talk about what he went through. There are other companions with lovely character development that you can choose. When people go "ugh he's ruined I didn't want this" My dear, with all due respect. This is the dark fantasy romance option. Emphasis on the fantasy. You didn’t get his approval by being nice. It's not like he's the only option. You chose to romance the vampire. The game warns you of what exactly you're about to do multiple times. You willingly help him murder thousands of people for freedom. A vampire who was a literal slave for longer than he was even alive for just got a MASSIVE amount of power. Were you expecting he was gonna just be a good guy now? He has had NOTHING for so long. His entire life trajectory changed within moments. He’s still figuring himself out. You as the player are still completely in charge. He owes everything to you and he knows that. You can walk away at literally any point. He asks you to kneel and obey to establish trust and a dynamic. To confirm this is what you want. YOU CAN SAY NO. Then, he gets right down on the floor with you. He's either gentle or rough based on your choice. If you don't like the vibe just break up with him at that point like he literally lets you do. Or, even just reload the save. But just remember. "That's what you want, isn't it?". When Astarion ascends, Neil says it best. His mask is off and he's allowed to be at his most terrible with no fear. He doesn't have to perform or be aloof as a distraction from the pain anymore. He was never good aligned. But now, he has the power and ability to give himself and his favourite person the life he thinks they wanted. Otherwise why would you ascend him? His love language becomes acts of service and gifts. He ADORES tav to almost obsession. He's always doting on them and calling them his. The ritual only amplifies that. "but what about what he says if you convince him not to go through with it?"

He’s not lying. He knows tav saved him from himself. It is technically the “good” ending. But that’s not what matters here. The ascension is for characters who are not good aligned. It is for characters that are just as much of a power hungry monster as ascended Astarion is. They want to be a monarch that rules the world over. It’s a role playing thing. Is it wrong? That’s for you to decide for yourself. Not others.

"but what about karlach? He's a massive jackass to her when he ascends" ...Yes. He's not a good guy. Karlach is basically the goodest character in the game. It won't work. And if you do break up with him, he lashes out and says some extremely hurtful things. Because you just broke his heart. It's a perfectly normal response from someone being completely blindsided. He thought you wanted this. You said you wanted this. After everything you both did you get here, he feels betrayed. Not even to mention ascended Astarion does not make you just a regular spawn. You quite literally become his vampire spouse. He thanks you for putting your trust in him. Then eventually you become a true vampire with time. He wants to make sure tav doesn't go insane after being turned. If you wanna learn more about vampire spouses in DnD I highly reccomend doing some google searches. It's fascinating. Is ascending him the right thing to do? No, but it's not "wrong". The game doesn't work that way. Is keeping him a spawn the right thing to do? Maybe, if your character thinks it is. Either route has their sets of pros and cons. It's up to you which ones you think work for your playthrough.

I almost always convince him not to go through with the ritual. But ascended Astarion + durge is a power couple and the vibes are immaculate for evil runs. Just have fun with the game! The devs made all these character arcs for you to explore! Thanks for reading <3

[chaoticbardlady99]

An interesting pattern I’ve noticed about Ascended Astarion fans is most of them have or had been in shitty relationships and have never had a healthy one or been to therapy to learn differently.

(I guess here is your DV and violence warning? I don’t go into anything specific- I just write the words, but someone got mad about it so here’s the warning.)

If you prefer AA in a fantasy sense- awesome! Kinks are kinks for a reason, they aren’t for everyone.

But don’t try to act like AA isn’t a victim turned perpetrator.

I mean the game flat out says he doesn’t respect you and if you are okay with that and think that’s normal, then I really hope you heal one day because you deserve to be happy and respected.

This is my way of saying- to the people in my inbox- I will not be writing AA. He reminds me of my abusive exes and step dad so don’t come to me for AA content because it’s not happening. I will not be glorifying abuse and normalizing it like I have done my entire life.

(pre-therapy me would have been all over him btw- I am not unaware of my own previous choices)

Edit: to the goofballs who keep putting stuff in my inbox anonymously- say what you want without hiding behind your screen. Your unhealed trauma is showing. If you can write it anonymously- you can sure as hell write it with your name on it.

If you don’t feel comfortable with that- you are welcome to my DMs, but I will most certainly post the messages with your USERNAME bolded in the post so proceed with caution 🤷🏼‍♀️

[brabblesblog]

Ch 2: Whither is thy beloved turned aside?

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

The invitation to the Withers’ party arrives at the Crimson Palace during a ball. Astarion allows her to go, with some caveats. Angst and smut.

Read on AO3

Masterlist.

The invitation could not have come at a worse time for Astarion. They read it after the party, as the last of the guests prepared to depart.

He glanced at Ban, who was still staring at the letter. She looked a little lost, and he immediately knew she wished to go. If it had been up to him, the letter would have been tossed into the fireplace immediately. Seeing them, his old friends, would be an unwelcome reminder of who he’d been. He knew they preferred that Astarion: weak, someone who acquiesced to their wishes - with snide words, perhaps, but nary a protest. They had all slowly stopped talking to him after the rite. Not that he cared, he reminded himself; he needed no one other than his consort.

“So.” He broke the silence, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his throne. She was perched on his lap, still staring at the parchment, as if she hadn't heard him. He hated being ignored. Especially by her.

His hand slid down to grip her muscled thigh, squeezing a little harder than he normally would, aiming to draw her attention back to him. Ban’s eyes flicked up in surprise, then settled back into that detached expression she usually wore when talking to him in the presence of others.

“Yes, my lord?” she said mechanically. There were still some guests mingling in the ballroom, so she maintained the decorum befitting the Ascendant’s consort.

“If you wish to go to the reunion, pet…” he said, weighing it even as he spoke. He’d let her go. As much as he disliked the idea, she’d probably be delighted. But there was no way he'd let her out of his sight, especially not across that sort of distance. And especially not around the people who knew him before - people who had less than stellar opinions about his improved self.

“I would be glad to accompany you,” he drawled, masking the amount of time it actually took for him to decide. He stretched his legs as he spoke, as if it was a trivial matter and he’d decided on a whim.

He knew she exchanged letters with them, and it had never bothered him before. It did well to give her entertainment in between their work and overseeing the renovation of the palace. None of them had paid her a visit, however, and he found himself glad of it. Gods forbid they came and tracked mud on his carpets, touched his furniture with grubby hands, or worse - spewed supercilious, self-righteous drivel.

Ban put the parchment down. She was dressed in a tight dress with thigh slits that went up all the way to her hips, revealing the long, hard planes of her thighs. Astarion had chosen it, of course. It reminded him of the one she used to wear, the one that was given to them by Umberlee’s priestesses. His hand moved higher, rucking the dress up several inches, letting his greedy lust take over momentarily.

“We can go, pet, if you’ll let me have a little more than I usually get tonight,” he purred.

Ban nodded. Of course he’d ask for something in return. But this opportunity was far too important to pass up, especially after Gale’s most recent letter.

I may have come across some information that might be useful to you, he’d written. I shall look into it further and will update you soon.

“What… more… would you want to have?” she asked. Her pulse picked up slightly in apprehension, but also arousal. He could ask for anything, really, and if she were to deny him or push him too far, she worried it might finally be when he chose to compel her. And yet her body still responded to his words, to the mere idea of what he might ask for tonight. Still her beloved, even as they stood in the ruins of what they had built.

“I’ll let you know when we’re there.” He gave her haunch a light slap, indicating she should stand. She did, and he headed into the thinning crowd to see off the last of the guests.

She watched him go, his sharp figure cutting across the ballroom gracefully. As was their protocol during events like these, she headed for the doors, seeing the guests out and thanking them as they slowly ambled out of the palace. Her face felt tight, her smile too stiff. No one noticed. To them, she was simply the Ascendant’s plaything. No one was aware of exactly how much she contributed to his endeavors - just the way Astarion preferred it.

Before long, the ballroom was empty, and Ban headed back to their shared bedroom. The moment she opened the door he was upon her, his clothing already discarded on the floor. He growled as he pushed her against the wall.

“I have been wanting, my love. Waiting all night. I wanted to take you right in front of everyone,” he hissed against her ear, hands greedily grabbing every square inch of bare skin he could reach.

Ban arched her neck, moaning when he spoke. It was well-rehearsed and well-executed, and he usually bought it - or at least found it sufficient. Tonight, however, he did not. He drew back, arms on either side of her face, caging her against the wall.

The eyes boring into hers were as hungry and feral as ever, but then he shook his head as if to clear it. His erection stood proudly out from his abdomen, but he made no move just yet.

Ban eyed him warily, tonight’s discussion on her mind. She braced herself. “What did you want then, Astarion?”

As she said this, she slowly began to move to her knees. It was a pretty good guess; he did seem to like her in that position, to remind her who exactly was in charge. But she immediately realized it couldn’t be this. This was… normal, and he had asked for more.

Astarion’s hand on her shoulder stopped her, helping her back up. He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “Not that.”

Instead, he pressed closer. When he cupped her cheek, it was surprisingly, achingly tender. He pursed his lips, a small moment of uncertainty passing over his features.

“Love me,” he said, and it was a challenge. “You have not done that in so long, my treasure. Love me.”

It was one of those rare moments when he acknowledged that things had changed. She didn’t answer, but neither did she flinch. And he took that as his cue.

Hot, searing lips met Ban’s, yet another reminder that he was different. His free hand took hers and placed it flush over his heart. In the wilds, his slow, undead heartbeat had been a source of comfort to her; she had lain against it, listening to it night after night. Now it pounded and raced, something it had been incapable of before. She fought down the urge to draw her hand back.

“You haven’t done that in ages,” Astarion whispered as he broke the kiss. For a split second, he looked at her with desperate, longing eyes, but she missed it, her own eyes closed. “You haven’t listened to my heart, haven’t felt it beat for you. You used to,” he hissed, and there was anger there.

Did she prefer it when it was slow and abnormal? Did she prefer it to this one - strong, racing, living? It hurt him to think about it. Gods, it hurt him to think of before. The hand on her cheek tightened for the briefest moment, but he mastered himself. No.

“I need it again, Ban. If only for tonight.”

The words were a plea. Laced with demand, yes, but a plea nonetheless. His voice threatened to crack at the end of his sentence.

Ban exhaled roughly at his words. She was torn; a part of her wanted him to know exactly how to make her love him the way she used to. The other, larger part of her merely wished to pretend and get it over with.

“I love you,” she countered, “always have. Forevermore will.”

And that was the truth; for however changed and twisted he’d become, she would always harbor feelings for him.

Astarion wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. It was a far cry from the time they’d slept together in the clearing, when he had hopped into her arms. He carried her to the four-poster bed effortlessly, setting her down on her back. He climbed over her, kissing his way up from her abdomen to her throat.

“You do?” the Ascendant said quietly. Inside, he was pained; he knew this to be largely true, but that resignation was there. That distance. Part of him wondered if that was the actual price of ascension.

Part of him thought that had he known, he would have refused it.

He kissed her throat, hiding his face. He let a growl escape him, let his hands grab her wrists and pin them above her head. He was not, would not, be weak. He wasn’t that mewling cur. Not anymore.

He had ascended. Now he must pay the price.

He brought a hand down to cup her breast. She whimpered when he gripped her wrists a little too tightly, and he instantly eased his grasp, sensing her discomfort. He lifted his head from her neck to watch her face. She had her eyes squeezed shut, face turned to the side to give him access to her throat. It was as if she was in the act of turning away from him.

How pathetic, he thought. I’m the king of my own little kingdom, and I feel as if I have lost everything.

But the Ascendant refused to let these thoughts rule his deeds. Vulnerability was something he had cleansed from himself. He released her wrists, his hands deftly undoing her dress. She shifted to help him strip it off of her.

As they finished, she finally spoke up.

“Yes, I do,” she said carefully, her face guarded and neutral. “I have loved you from the day I first laid eyes on you.”

And what a stupid godsdamned idea that had been.

Astarion wanted to push her, to force her to admit that the love they shared had been changed. By her. Because she wouldn't accept what he was. Because everything he’d given her - riches, power, sex - wasn't enough. Because she wanted the one thing he could not provide - doing so would pave the way for the ghosts of who they used to be. So he’d force them both to settle for this farce.

“And I love you, my dearest consort,” he said thickly, letting it go. He crawled his way back to her, settling his head between her legs. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling her muscles tighten under his lips.

“I am nothing without you,” he whispered, and they both knew it to be painfully true.

He sunk his teeth into her thigh.

It wasn’t horribly painful, and Ban forced her leg to stop twitching. She watched her lord suckle at the wounds, his fingers gently making their way to her mound and finding her clit. He thumbed a soft, circular pattern he’d mastered long ago. Licking off the last of the blood, he met her gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. The sanguine hunger had been cured in the ascension, but he still craved her blood, simply because it was a part of her.

One dark, hungry look was all the warning he gave before he spread her folds and dove in, his tongue lapping needily at her core.

Ban hissed at the sudden warmth of his tongue, growing wet almost instantly. Sex may have lost most of its passion, but that didn’t mean there was none, or that it wasn’t enjoyable. Astarion was still Astarion, after all.

What Ban worried most about were his thoughts during the act. Did he still dissociate? They had been sleeping together almost every night since the rite, at his behest, but she had never dared ask. Before the rite, he’d finally been able to let her touch him, and even still it had been fraught. It was one of those topics she worried would hurt his ego and remind him of his past.

But Astarion was incredibly present; had been for some time now. He’d vowed to erase his past, and that had included the damage done by the parade of bodies he’d had to lie with. There’d been a learning curve, but it hadn’t been too difficult. Being in the moment was no longer challenging, not something he had to work at. Not when there was no longer anything to fear. He was the master now: he took what he wanted, in the time he wanted and in the manner he wished it to be.

And of course, because it was her. His Ban, the only one he’d ever allow to touch him, see him, know him this way, and she was the strongest balm of all. He knew he would be likely to relapse if they invited others to their bed - that shared event in Sharess’ Caress had proved as much - but alone with her, in his palace? Surrounded by everything that was his? It was effortless to be present in the moment.

He licked at her clit eagerly, alternating soft, feather-light touches with longer, harder laps. Then he wrapped his lips around it, letting his teeth graze her bud gently. He was rewarded with a low whimper and he chuckled darkly, satisfied. As broken as their love was, at least he knew he was still able to bring her to the heights of ecstasy. He snaked a hand down, palming his cock, grinding into his fist and the bed.

He licked her a bit more, bringing her close to peak, and then slowly slithered up her body. He met her gaze and saw a mix of lust, love, and that ever-present and all-encompassing resignation.

“Let me make love to you?” His tone was gentle and a little uncertain. He disliked the way it had slipped out of him, but found her reaction - surprise and… hope - well worth it. He figured that if he wanted her to at least pretend to truly love him tonight, then he may as well give her something to work with.

She gulped, the facade broken. “Yes, Astarion. Just like before.”

At any other time that would have enraged him, but his need to feel her love was too great tonight. He bit back a retort, watching her face as he stroked his cock a few more times before lining up and slowly sinking into her wet heat.

As she watched him slide into her, a small thought occurred to her: there’d never been a time they’d made love without something being off. The first two times they’d been together, he had been manipulating her. Their time in the Shadow-Cursed lands and even those final days before the rite had been filled with exploration, but also with worry. His ability to enjoy intimacy had still been fraught with setbacks. Every time after that had been after he’d changed. It was ironic, she mused bitterly, that the closest they’d gotten to healthy sex had been him seducing her for protection.

And then all thought was quickly chased away by the sensation of his cock burying deep inside her.

Astarion began thrusting. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Ban’s pained expression. He needed to think of her as she’d been, laughing as they made love - that genuine joy in simply being with him. He imagined her in the clearing, wincing a little as he remembered uncharitably thinking her gullible. Shifting course, he brought forth memories of their time in the Shadow-Cursed lands, when they had finally started something real and stopped having sex, but had found other ways to be intimate. When he would touch her, make her come undone, and she would look at him like the sun rose in his eyes. Those, he realized belatedly, were the happiest moments of his cursed existence.

He would give almost anything to see that again. Almost.

He rarely allowed himself to think of the past, but tonight was an exception. He’d asked her to love him again for one night, and so he indulged himself. He thrust faster, driven by his memories, trying to use his body to love her broken pieces back together; trying to give her what he couldn’t back then.

Ban noticed, saw Astarion’s eyes were closed. He was usually very visually greedy, eyes eating up her every reaction as he fucked her senseless, but tonight he seemed like his old self. His thrusts were hard, but with the intention to give, angling himself so that he hit her spot with every pass. She felt tenderness breaking through her apathy and was unable to stem the flow. She couldn’t help it; she stroked his cheek, surprised when he whimpered in response.

His eyes remained shut, but his face was less pained. “Stay with me,” he said, his tone entirely different. It was softer, more earnest. “Just like this, forevermore.”

“I will, if you stay like this too.” It wasn’t a demand, rather a plea. A prayer, one she hoped her Astarion could answer from across time and whatever distance now separated them.

They were both nearing their peak, Astarion thrusting as hard as he possibly could without hurting her. He shook his head at her words, an agonized expression on his face. In those few moments he’d stolen from the Ascendant, he wanted to grant her wish. But he knew once he came, he wouldn’t be able to.

He would have to be the Ascendant again when the dawn breaks, and the Ascendant refused to be that spawn - refused to be anything that man was. The spawn could only ever be allowed to surface in the dark of night, between silken sheets and whispered words; a secret the Ascendant could not allow her to see.

And if that broke her heart, well, the Ascendant could live with that. She’d still be here, and they could both continue the dance they knew all too well.

Ban decided to try again. It was a risk, and she feared being compelled, but if there had ever been a moment in the past six months that it could work, it would be this one.

“I would stay. If you let me be free, Astarion, I would st-”

“No!”

His eyes flew open, the moment evaporating instantly. Freedom? What? So she could run away from him? So he would be left with absolutely nothing, a wretched creature in far worse misery than he’d been in as a spawn? No. She could not be freed.

For a split second, he wished he’d made her into what he was under Cazador. But the thought was instantly swallowed by disgust and self-loathing. No. He would never.

But she couldn’t know.

Ban deflated at his outburst, the resignation returning to her eyes as she nodded. “Fine. For tonight, though, I can.”

He’d settle for that.

The Ascendant closed his eyes again, hips resuming their movement. He wanted to drown in his memories again, and so he let his mind fill with them, let his mind be caught in their current, allowing them to drag him under.

Her, laughing at some silly prank he’d pulled. Her in their tent, coming undone as his fingers touched her and his lips kissed her. Her, telling him she loved him for the first time, but not asking for anything in return.

The power of that final memory unraveled him. His climax washed over him, and the low whine that escaped his lips sounded nothing like the Ascendant. It was in that moment that his mind inadvertently reached for his creation - his bride.

They both gasped at the contact. He tried, frantically, to stem the flow of thoughts, and was mostly successful. Only one slipped through to her, the one which brought him to his peak.

He was reading a book while she rested on his chest, part of their usual nighttime routine. He looked down at her, brushing back a lock of her hair.

“You should sleep,” he said. “If we’re going to push for the nightsong tomorrow, you’ll need all your strength.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded. Tomorrow could decide the fate of the Shadow-Cursed lands, and she did need rest.

“I want to spend as much time with you as I can. Just in case things go wrong tomorrow.” Her hand splayed over his chest, and his undead heart sped up at the contact. He smiled.

“Once this is all done, darling, you’ll have eternity with me. I promise you that. As for tomorrow, we’ll be fine. I've got you,” he assured her lightly, miming shooting his twin crossbows.

Ban laughed, and her next words came forth unbidden.

“I love you, Astarion. You don’t ever have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

The memory washed over Ban and she felt the wild, intense surprise, the joy he’d felt at her words. The strength of his remembered elation stole her breath, and she stared at Astarion in shock. When the alien presence of his mind had entered hers, she’d thought he was finally going to bend her to his will. She had been prepared to fight. Instead, she’d seen this memory, one she had thought rejected by him.

Was he thinking about that? Was that on his mind as he came?

Astarion jerked back quickly, feeling threatened by this sudden, unwanted vulnerability, and much like a cornered animal, his only recourse was to lash out.

“How dare you,” he hissed. “You ask for freedom, but invade my mind. Look at me.”

He grabbed her by the jaw, turning her to face him. He was aware that it had been his mind that had reached out for hers; she didn’t even know such a thing was possible. But his need to never show weakness was too great. Indignation won out; he took umbrage at this evidence that she could coax that sort of softness from him still, that even the Ascendant could be swayed by her love.

”You will never be free. You understand? Everyone - everything you need is here. In. This. Palace.” He let go of her, his chest heaving. Tears threatened to prick his eyes but he refused to consider why, holding them back by sheer force of will.

“You’ve done as I asked. We will go to the reunion. And then you’ll see,” he sneered, “exactly how pathetic the past was, compared to now.”

With those venomous words, he turned away from her. He missed the determined gleam in her eye, the one that he used to find so vexing and yet so alluring, the one that had never failed to charm him.

Later that night, whilst the Ascendant was in trance, his creation began to prepare a bag. She packed her old armor and weapons from their adventure. In the morning, she would say that she was giving them to Karlach for her battles in Avernus.

And he would believe it, because he’d forgotten her strength, forgotten the stubborn determination that had lured him to her in the first place. He’d believe it because he would be there, watching her. Because he, in his insistence on keeping her a caged bird, had forgotten what she was capable of.

[ozthedm]

Vampire Ascendant Ramblings!

I love Baldur’s Gate 3. I love the vampire genre. I am particularly fascinated with the concept of the Vampire Ascendant for a number of reasons that mainly boil down to “what does it mean to be the Vampire Ascendant and what is the true cost of this power?”

This post is essentially a collection of my observations, thoughts, and headcanons regarding the ascension ritual. Think of this as fanfic inspiration material. Get ready folks, because we’re about to dip a toe into 5e lore and get existential.

What does the Rite of Profane Ascension actually do?

Raphael explains the ritual as thus:

“If he completes the rite, he will become a new kind of being - the Vampire Ascendant. All the strengths of his vampiric form will be amplified, and alongside them he will enjoy the luxuries of the living. The arousals and appetites of man will return to him, and unlike Astarion, he will have no need of a parasite to protect him from the sun. But the ritual has a price, as all worthwhile things do. Lord Cazador will need to sacrifice a number of souls including all of his vampiric spawn if he is to ascend… Your soul will set off a very wave of death, bringing Cazador his twisted life.” 

TLDR: If Cazador offers up the souls of 7000 vampire spawn, then maybe he’ll feel less like shit.

Other specific perks include:

The hunger for blood that plagues all vampires will no longer affect him.

His heart will beat again (Could he even be considered undead at that point?)

He still gets to remain immortal in the sense that he will never age

He can choose to extend his protection from the sun to his spawn, but this protection can be revoked

He can be reflected in mirrors.

There are some details that remain unclear, so here’s where we step into headcanon territory:

Running water will no longer harm him

A normal wooden stake won’t be enough to paralyze him. You’d be better off with a magical weapon

Although he will still need an invitation to enter homes, His enhanced vampiric charm practically makes it a nonissue

And now a couple of notes on Mephistopheles and the contract itself:

“Devils bargain with mortals to upend the divine order. They stake claims on souls that would otherwise go to the gods or be cast adrift somewhere other than the Nine Hells. If you are already a creature of Law and Evil devoted to no other entity, your damned spirit is of meager value.”

  - Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes

Mephistopheles is an arcane innovator. His realm, Cania, is essentially a giant laboratory where he conducts extensive experiments. 

When it comes to souls, Mephistopheles prefers quality over quantity. He mostly acquires the souls of highly accomplished wizards and sages to help him with his research. To demand the souls of 7000 vampire spawn seems uncharacteristically beneath him (especially for the power he’s offering) 

My thinking is that Mephistopheles is working on something that specifically requires vampiric energy and lots of it. The 7000 spawns are nothing more than fodder.

A devil’s deal never ends well. This is repeatedly stated throughout the game. Considering what we know of Mephistopheles and how little Cazador cares for his spawn, this whole contract sounds far too good to be true. So what’s the catch?

A few possible ideas as to the downsides:

Mephistopheles is always watching. After all, this is a completely new kind of being that warrants study. 

The Ascendant’s hunger for blood is replaced with a different hunger. A hunger that is indescribable and insatiable. He will always yearn for more. More power, more control, more anything. He may even return to Mephistopheles in an attempt to fill the void. 

The Ascendant’s own soul is included in the price, albeit differently. Where the other souls were simply consumed by the ritual, his will serve another purpose. (Not gonna lie, this one sent me on a whole existential journey trying to figure out what is means to have/lack a soul)

I might post more thoughts later, but this is enough for now

[cringecannon]

Who of our lovely darlings is more of a neck grabber, face grabber, or hair puller? I feel like most are likely to do all in different…situations, but what’s the preference?

I’m just gonna name as many nasties off the top of my head as I can. I’m not gonna elaborate in this post to keep it brief since Everyone is here but if any of you want some specifics just shoot me an ask! Without further ado-

Neck Holders: Gortash, Ketheric, Oathbreaker Knight, Haarlep, Shadowheart, Lorroakan, Halsin

Face Grabbers: Spawn Astarion, Gale (normal/godhood), Cazador, Kar’niss, Orin, Zevlor, Minthara

Hair Pullers: Raphael, Durge (default and pre/post tadpole), young Enver and coketash, Ascended Astarion, Rolan, Lae'zel, Abdirak

[prismatic-starstuff]

So because I talked earlier about my thoughts on Astarion and the polyamory options the game offers with him, I'm just gonna post the post I had in my drafts idk akxmalxnakxn

Disclaimers: I'm all for polyamory in general and I love the fact there are poly options in the game; and if you disagree with my assessments about the tone and/or intention of the dialogue, that's totally fine! I'm not trying to throw shade at anyone who reads things differently or prefers things a different way than me; I'm just having a little ramble about things as I experienced them. I'm not here to fight, so please don't fight with me.

So, there's... a lot of evidence in the game that Astarion doesn't like being with more than one person, and doesn't like his partner being with more than one person. And my potentially hot take on the matter is... I don't think the poly options with him are a good choice; actually, I think they're really cruel.

If you try for polyamory with Astarion and Shadowheart or Minthara, both of them - in very different ways - point out the fact that, basically, he doesn't feel comfortable or safe with the idea of his partner being with multiple people.

Shadowheart says: 'I think you may be overestimating his willingness to share; he might seem like the carefree hedonist, but there's something fragile beneath the facade. If you can give him the solace that I'm convinced he desperately needs, then it would be cruel for me to try and elbow in - liable to end in tears, or blood, or both.'

And Minthara, being Minthara, isn't so nice about it but effectively says the same thing; she says: 'I suspect that would puncture his fragile ego far more savagely than his fangs puncture your neck. Astarion likes to put on a show of nonchalant decadence, but he is as delicate as a flake of snow. Besides, that arrangement would not suit me either. I am not delicate, but I do not share what I desire.'

During the scenes with Halsin - whether it's at the brothel with the drow twins or it's MC asking Astarion about general polyamory with Halsin - it seems painfully like he's going along with it for MC's sake; both conversations are initiated by MC, his immediate reaction in both scenarios is to ask if they're pursuing this because he's not giving them sex, and only after that discussion does he agree to it. He doesn't express any personal interest in it, so it seems to once again be expressly because MC wants it; in fact, he's acting very much like he did in Act 1 back when he was pretending.

I also saw a clip once of someone who slept with Mizora while in a relationship with ascended Astarion, and he's dripping bitterness all the way through the conversation about it. I don't have the exact dialogue on hand right now, but he speaks as though he's jealous because he wanted to be with Mizora too, but— honestly? That whole part felt like a cover. Because with the way he tells MC to at least bring him along if they decide to have other affairs in future, and the way he sounds so mocking and delighted if MC says that the affair was bad in any way, it just feels like he vehemently dislikes the fact it happened at all; it feels like it's not about Mizora at all, it's about the fact he doesn't like them being with somebody else, especially without him.

Still on the subject of ascended Astarion, there's also a line of dialogue where Minthara asks about sharing immortality with her and he pointedly shoots that down, stating that it is 'for me and my darling to share.' In response, Minthara says: 'If they have prevented your eyes and fangs from wandering to other necks, it must be a special bond indeed.' All of this points to Astarion only having eyes (and, uh, fangs) for his darling, and no-one else.

Again, I'm all for polyamory; I wholeheartedly support it, I know polyamorous people and have polyamorous friends. I really love how it's just a normal and accepted thing in BG3 that no-one bats an eyelid at, and I think more games should be taking that approach.

But when it comes to Astarion in specific... he doesn't come across as polyamorous at all, because there's simply too much evidence pointing to the fact that he's not; and so, the polyamory options with him in specific honestly... hurt. Because at no point does he ever seem enthusiastic about it, as if it's genuinely what he wants to do; instead, it all just feels like another extension of him having to go along with what others want in order to satisfy them. There's a piece of dialogue where Astarion mentions how he sometimes does not know how to say no as a result of the trauma and abuse he's gone through, and I think that's exactly what's happening.

And considering that's been his whole life for two centuries, and it's being perpetuated by the person he's developed feelings for suddenly springing these situations on him, it just... doesn't feel good to me, personally.

[pikaglove]

Now that I have beaten Baulder's Gate 3, here is a list of headcanons I made up about my character and her life (also includes some in game canon events)

Sylvia

• Half wood elf

• Druid (circle of the lands)

• Folk hero

• Cis female

• Bisexual

• Early-mid 30s

• Lover: Gale (married)

• Adopted two kids after the events of bg3 (arabella and Yenna)

• Absolute freak in the sheets

• Has demon fetish

• Canonically forgets her quests (people have died because of this)

• Lived in Baulder's Gate when she was a young girl and was going to be married off to a noble drow but got in a fight that made her "unfit for marriage" and had to be shipped away due to being an embarrassment to the family.

• Lived as a hippie in her young adulthood with other druids.

• Went around saving small towns from bandits.

• Normally peaceful but gets really hotheaded when she sees injustice

• Has gone days without eating much (Gale has had to make her eat a proper meal instead of just a few berries)

• Had a fling with Lae'zel, thought it was mid.

• Did have a pixie friend when she traveled with the other druids

• Not good friends with Astarion because she wishes he would be a better person (she was really proud when he didn't ascend)

• Shadowheart is her bff

• Loves cats

• Prefers cooler weather

• Will fight Mystra at a waffle house

• Loves raunchy ballads about herself

• Has Heterochromia (left: blue. Right: green)

• Got a flower tattoo on her neck once she left Baulder's Gate

• Got facial scars from charging up too much lightning to take down a group of harpies. (She won of course)

• Down with Bukake (Gale gets her so well)

• Half illithid (cured)

• Has blanked out when Gale goes on tangents but she's happy to let him ramble

• Canonically told Gortash to fuck off

• Disappointment to parents (canon by auntie ethiel)

• Astarion, Jaheira, and Karlach judged her for fucking the emperor

• Canonically sacrificed herself to save everyone in the iron throne along with Astarion (character growth for astarion)

• Halsin is her father figure now after he found out her dad is shit

• Canonically cucked Gale 3 times (The emperor, the drow twins, and Haarlep)

• Whenever Haarlep is using her body and she is in puplic, she and Gale absolutely go off somewhere to fuck.

• Date nights with Gale include star gazing

• Is the reason why Gale learned more ice spells (He wanted to impress her)

• Taught Gale animal handling.

• Steals books for Gale while on adventures

• Canonically goes on adventures with Gale

• Uses vines to bind Gale's wrists so she can give him the sloppy toppy without him returning the favor. (All consentual)

• Taught Arabella druid magic

• Yenna and Gale cook while in waterdeep

• Tara and Sylvia have helped Grub come out of his shell more.

• Has a good relationship with Mrs. Dekarios

• Won the heart of Tara after growing her some catnip.

• Has gotten into cheese arguments with Gale, whenever Elminster comes to visit.

• People sometimes think Yenna is her biological daughter due to similar hair and eye color.

• Father is human, mother is a wood elf

• Has a younger brother

• Her bi awakening was when she was a teen and had a crush on a tiefling classmate

• Let's Shadowheart stay at their tower when she visits waterdeep to be at the Selunite temple.

• Once got attacked by Shaarans when Shadowheart was visiting.

• Has nightmares of turning into a mind flayer due to taking that parasite

• Years after all events and our heros have passed, the wizard tower of waterdeep becomes overgrown with vines.

[dmbakura]

I don't play BG so I've just been passively absorbing Astarion discourse through your posts and from an outsider's perspective I'm just absolutely fucking baffled that ascended Astarion has attracted all the fandom goody two shoes??? Like. Shouldn't it he the other way around and all the people who are into fucked up power imbalance bad end stuff be the ones ascended Asterion drew in??? Did some fucking wires get crossed or something? I'm so confused.

I'll say the ascended stannies (the ones who are really loud and defensive about their preferred ending and make it everyone elses problem) are just a vocal minority

There's plenty of people who like the asc. ending Normally (ie not trying to constantly argue its the 'correct/moral/good' choice or downplaying the canonical themes of abuse) who fully embrace how fucked up and toxic it is, or just find it hot or whatever. Me personally I love the tragedy and I think he's very goofy in an endearing way. I want to squash him like a bug 💀

But yes I don't get it either. It's attracted this bizarre subset of fans who need what they consume to be morally pure and have everyone else to view it as such too. They can't stand when people discuss the actual themes going on in astarions storyline and take it as a personal attack on them. It's incredibly childish.

[khesekake]

What comes after?

(A.N: this was written before the new epilogue came out, but is loosely based around the dialogue option you have with romanced non-ascended Astarion about helping him see sunlight again. This is copy-pasted from my Ao3 fic of the same name link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50238007)

-----------------

The brain had been defeated, yours and your companion's futures and the future of Baldur's Gate had been saved for the time being.

So why do you feel no relief?

~~~~~ A kind of introspective look at how the protagonist feels after the fall of the Netherbrain, accompanied by everyone's favourite vampire spawn

---------------

It was done.

The blasted brain sunk into the river like a coin in a fountain; the putrid smell slowly becoming entombed by the waves. The sun was setting over the horizon to bathe the smoldering city in early dusk’s glow. You had won; against all odds, you had defeated the Netherbrain with your band of companions, and yet… all that came over you was a wave of exhaustion that buried deep into your very soul.

Your friends held a party that night at the ruins of elfsong inn - which, compared to most buildings in the city was still standing fairly well. Shadowheart fulfilled her earlier promise to “make sure the tadpole was really gone” by drowning it in whatever alcohol the bartenders could scavenge, accompanied by Wyll and Gale with their own bottles of liquid gold. Most civilians still gave Karlach a wider birth than normal, but she didn’t seem to mind much. She got to live, she had said to you, and that was what mattered most to her at this very moment. Halsin and Jahira joined the now-mindflayer in both an attempt to keep her company and to warm the crowd up. The large elf was regaling some old tale of his in a booming voice that was hard to miss but even still, your mind was elsewhere.  Bottle in hand, you rested against the open windows of the inn, eyes staring out into the darkening sky finally clearing of smoke for the first time since the battle began. The smell of coppery blood and burning wood was still permeating the streets, but it was accompanied by the sounds of merriment and cheers from the survivors.

The sounds of the party grated on your ears, so you turned on a heel and walked with heavy footfalls up the stairs to the rooftop (or, at least, what was left of it). If anyone noticed your disappearance, they didn’t show it. 

Although the smell was hardly preferable outside, you still inhaled a deep breath as you tried to will the tension in your shoulders to relax. The moonlight above was casting soft hues of white and blue along the surfaces of the town, creating a peaceful ambiance that was in stark contrast to the muffled sounds of partying below you.

“Well, if it isn’t the savior of Baldur’s Gate.”

You just about jumped out of your skin as you instinctively pulled your weapon from its place on your body, turning around swiftly. However, all fight evaporated as the pale-coloured face of your partner came into view. Astarion held his hands up in mocking surrender, striding like a ghost in the night towards you. His face held its ever-present alluring charm, yet something in his eyes didn’t match the teasing tone in his features. You sighed as you stowed away your weapon, instead choosing to sit on a stray piece of flat debris. Astarion’s quiet footfalls followed until he was resting next to you. You could feel his piercing gaze on your skin which made you shiver.

“I…,” Astarion, normally succinct in his words, seemed tied for what to say. You rested your head on his shoulder. He cleared his throat.

“Darling, you should be down with the others celebrating. It’s not every day you destroy a plot to take over the realms.” His hand laid on top of one of yours, caressing your calloused knuckles and marred skin. Astarion lowered his voice, breath tickling your ears slightly as he leaned to rest his cheek on top of your scalp. “May I ask what is troubling you?”

In all honesty, you didn’t know. You knew you were supposed to feel relieved that this nightmare was over, that the looming threat of ceremophisis was in the past. Yet, the tightness in your chest compressed your very being. Your eyes became glassy and stung in the cooling night air. The feeling of finality that was supposed to be euphoric was instead sucking the very life out of you. You didn’t trust your voice to work so you settled on moving closer to your lover, wrapping your arms around his cold body and burying your face into the crook of his neck. You made no sound, but Astarion still whispered sweet nothings of comfort into your ears as he rubbed your back, albeit a little out of his depth.

After some time in the stillness of the night, the only sounds resonating from below your feet, you pulled back and wiped at the streaks of wetness on your face.

“..’m sorry, about that..” Your voice, whisper quiet, felt like it echoed into the darkening streets of Baldur’s Gate. “I don’t know what’s up with me tonight. Sorry you had to come check up on me.” You turned away from the pale vampire spawn, eyes glued to the cracks in the stone. You feel a hand travel up your cheek and resting just below your eye, cradling your head as you instinctively lean into the cold touch of the undead.

“My love, you have nothing to apologise for. Today has been a lot on all of us, especially you. While it’s… certainly not what I expected to see, I can’t imagine that today was easy.” Astarion’s red eyes seemed to glow in the blue hues of nightfall and yet they seeped into your tired bones like sunrays on a warm spring day, soothing the ghost of an ache. His other hand continued its ministrations across your knuckles as if attempting to massage the discomfort from your being himself. The idea made you smile ever so slightly. You breathed in deeply and focused on stilling your voice.

“I guess… I’m just stuck thinking about what comes after this. These past tendays, all I could think of was how to survive ‘till the next sunrise. Having enough rations and supplies, making sure the Absolute or Vlaakith’s army or Casador’s spawns weren’t only one step behind us, supporting you and everyone we know in their times of need. Now that everything is over, I’m just…” You run a hand over your grimy face, “Exhausted, I guess. When the weight of the world is on your shoulders, it takes getting rid of that weight to really feel the repercussions of carrying it.” You felt Astarion’s rumble of acknowledgment vibrate through your bones, pulling a tired sigh from your soul. 

“Plus, I’m still worried about you Astarion.” A confused noise came from your lover as he pulled away to look at you quizzically. 

“My love, what is there to worry about? You have already done so much; you freed me from Cazador’s chains and saved mine and everyone else’s lives! You-.” He frustratedly sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, ever performative even in serious moments. “You saw something else in me that no one had ever even tried to find. You saw the man I was, before I was buried six feet under and left a slave for two centuries.” The hand on your cheek moved down to guide your chin up to look at him. Worried lines burrowed into the ghostly skin of his face and his eyes seemed to look directly into your mind, tadpole or not. His eyes softened at the edges as you returned his gaze. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, uncaring of the cracks and grime. 

“You saw… a man who was worthy of love - is worthy of loving. You saw someone that I thought had died a long, long time ago.” He leaned in close, his breaths that he didn’t need fanning over your cooling face. “Whatever has got you stuck in that pretty little head of yours, you at least need to know that you have already done more than enough, my love.” His lips laid a mere inch away from yours, inviting but still giving you a way out. As considerate as that was, he should know you better than to think you would give up kissing him now, especially when mere hours ago you thought that each kiss would be the last.

Your lips are cold, both from the night’s air and his naturally bloodless body. Even still, a warm fire settled into your muscles. The tension built up in every nook and cranny of your bruised and battle-worn body had begun to unravel at the hands of your lover. The kiss was soft, unhurried. Your bodies slotted together like perfectly aligned pieces of armor, strong apart but even stronger when combined. You hooked your arms around his slender neck while his came to rest on your lower back. Asking for nothing more than to be close, to live as survivors - no, as heroes - amongst the rubble you called home. 

You pulled back reluctantly. A hand came up from his neck to rest at the small tuff of snow-white curls at the base of his scalp, fingers absentmindedly tangling into the soft locks. Astarion’s head came to rest on your shoulder with a whisper-quiet sigh.

“I want to find a way for you to walk in the sun, Astarion.”

For the second time that night, your words had taken the vampire aback. His eyes glimmered with confusion, but underneath laid a base colour of thinly veiled hope. You continued, hands stroking his nape as a small smile laid upon your features.

“I remember you talking about how you had missed the feeling of walking under the light of day, how you secretly treasured every moment we had under the rays of sunshine that you hadn’t felt in literal centuries . The smile and contentment on your face, it made me fall for you over and over again.” This time, you gazed into the glistening rubies of your lover’s eyes, watching as they searched your face for any sign of teasing or deceit.

“I want you to be free Astarion. I want to someday walk in the sun with you again, and I won’t stop at anything to find a cure…” You dropped your gaze. “I-If you’ll stay with me, that is. If you want.” Astarion was silent long enough that anxiety circled your gut, worried that you had overstepped and assumed something that he didn’t care about or want. You were ready to backtrack when a tear escaped his eyes. The vampire buried his face into your chest, his breathing unsteady and hands gripping the fabric of your clothes tightly.

“...You really are too good for me, you know?” His voice was smaller than before, but when he turned to look at you from below, there was mirth in his smile and life in his eyes. He pulled back to embrace you fully, head tucked into your neck securely. His words, spoken right next to your skin, felt sacred in their intimacy.

“Darling, it would be my honor to stay by your side. For as long as you will have me.”

You chuckled, squeezing the elf tighter in your embrace.

“Guess you’ll be stuck with me for a while then”

[teamdilf]

So, I’m back on my Ascended Astarion comedy bullshit and writing a second fic in my What We Do in the Shadows homage series. See under the cut for jokes about cannibalism, and poor Colin Munroe having a terrible, terrible day.

“This is supposed to be a piece about his workout regimen?”

“Oh, and it will be,” Naomi says cheerily before offering him something to drink. He’s torn between accepting the offer, risking either a poisoning or an afternoon sipping on blood, and refusing, which may be seen as a snub.

“We have coffee,” Naomi clarifies, and he nods, surprised when the woman leads him to their kitchen herself, and puts the kettle on the stove. She begins grinding coffee beans, humming to herself as she does.

“Sorry. I don’t actually know where I heard that song. I have little memory of my life before meeting my lover. Some things I’ve picked up; human blood is… fine, but bland. Elf is my favourite, but dwarven flesh is…”

He pales and Naomi glances over and offers a sheepish smile. “This is not normal coffee talk, is it?” All he can muster in response is a shake of his head and Naomi returns to grinding the beans. “Cannibalism was normalized for me as a result of my upbringing.”

What a headline that would be! Luckily this is a workout piece and he does not need to report on the Hero of Baldur’s Gate’s cannibalistic preferences.

Unless workout diet becomes a topic of discussion. Shit.

“Flesh makes me ill, you’ll be relieved to learn.”

Shockingly, he does not feel relieved to learn this.

“Milk?”

“It’s… uh… goat or cow, right?” he asks delicately, and Naomi gives him a funny look.

“I never drank humanoid milk; I’m not a barbarian!” she laughs. It’s good she has a line in the sand.