#similar to how astarion acts in bg3

[sas-afras]

i kinda don’t get people who characterize maccready as like… secretly generous, or having a heart of gold or anything. like don’t get me wrong i don’t think he’s downright malicious or anything, but the dude is absolutely a selfish jerk once you get past the charming facade. that’s the part that’s compelling!

like, he’s nice enough and open enough with the player once you get high enough affinity with him, but his reactions to player actions still point to him being a jerk overall. the sosu just happens to be in His Circle of people he can be vulnerable with. that includes you, his son, and maybe daisy. everyone else can kick rocks, the same way it was in little lamplight

he HAD to grow up with that kind of “us vs the world, every man for himself” mentality in the capitol wasteland. doing so otherwise gets you killed or taken advantage of, which is just protracted death anyways. having grown up in a place where slavers run rampant, people are all pushing each other further down just to boost themselves up and live one more day, and it’s literally impossible to make renewable food sources because the ground is so poisoned i genuinely don’t blame him for ending up a little tight fisted. the fact that he was the mayor of little lamplight just meant that he ended up being able to accept a few people as His To Protect instead of being a total lone wolf.

the way he reacts to the players open generosity isn’t just for show, he Actually Dislikes when you give stuff away without expecting anything in return. you might need that thing and now its just gone!! that person might see you as a sucker! you give an inch and they’ll take a mile! and it makes sense for his character to be like that considering everything. i don’t get why people want to change that into him just being kind of tsundere.

i understand that having your babygirl blorbo comfort character be a canonical asshole in ways that aren’t just kinda charming can be offputting, but like…. the way he treats the sosu is a very notable exception to the rest of his life & it’s a much more interesting dynamic imo. especially if you’re playing a goody two shoes martyr. but that’s just me

[thebookworm0001]

I just think the fandom’s nastier responses to the bg3 men is wildly interesting

like. you have three men who are coming out of highly unhealthy relationships.

One of them gets super sexualized and infantilized at the exact same time. literally people put him in the bdsm harness while simultaneously misinterpreting elven cultural norms to say he’s mentally no more mature than a teenager despite having been a whole-ass local judge who died because he gave out corrupt rulings and got his ass jumped because of them.

the other gets treated like he’s an incel because he catches feelings quickly, despite being wildly respectful when you turn him down. Half the issues were due to a bug, the other is that this man is so starved for validation because his goddess - whom has paid special interest to him since he was a toddler - kept him constantly feeling lesser-than because despite calling him her Chosen, she gives him none of the power we see Chosens be given by other gods. Not to mention she sends her other ex - his mentor and friend - to tell him to off himself to earn her forgiveness. For some reason his attempts to gain god-like power are received worse than the borm-sexy-yesterday-vampire despite both of them having the goal of being safe from manipulation and control. I assume because the vampire gets a sex scene when you let him destroy his soul for power and the wizard does not.

The fairytale prince route, despite typically being very popular, is being called boring and dull and while, yes, he has less drama than some of the others, is still compelling and has high stakes for that character. He’s sold his soul but he thinks the price is worth it and he’s made his peace with the personal cost because he’s helping people. The only real difference between this character and others who are willing to sell their souls for the good of their lands is that this time around, he’s Black

[lyriumsings]

baldurs gate is so funny it’s just

laezel &shadowheart: let’s break you outta this religious cult!

wyll & gale: let’s break you outta this unhealthy relationship!

astarion & karlach: let’s break the people who broke you!

that’s it that’s the game

[nucleqr]

astarion not getting the spellrot curse, which specifies "unless you are undead", is such a nice touch

[dmc5se]

(acts like people have been twisting my arm) ok fine i'll draw astarion fine ...

[myers-meadow]

Going feral for halsin this morning wifey, I require you best halsin headcannons 🥺🤭

Hiiii!

So glad to hear from you, beloved! How have you been?? I didn't know you're into bg3 too. Send me ur faves, ur headcanons, ur lore - i wanna see it all!! btw did u see the lil Halsin drabble I posted yesterday? uwu. I have such bad brainrot for him, frankly HAH <3 i love him <3

Here are some short and sweet Halsin headcanons I have ✨🌿 Stay safe, love!

Warnings: canon-typical discussions of darker topics. sfw.

Divider by saradika-graphics.

Halsin loves bathing with his love, and with his friends. He's very casual with nudity and intimacy, and dotes on his friends too.

After he regained his freedom from the drows, he spent extended amounts of time in wildshape. It made him feel free, and safe, in a way. It also helped him reclaim that part of him as something that wasn't to be used as some sexual novelty.

After his captivity, he tried a relationship, but he quickly found he needed to heal more, before being able to fully open himself up again to another person. Trust didn't come easy.

He gets along well with all of the companions, especially with Karlach and Gale.

Owlbear cub, Yenna's cat and Scratch are sooooo fond of him.

He's done a lot of healing, but sometimes seeing Astarion lash out because of his similar history, hits a little too close to home.

Him being in the party is partly because he seeks to run away - even if that means going to a city he dislikes. The other part is because of his fondness of the band of misfits and of Tav in particular.

He's one of the few companions who doesn't react badly when left at camp, but make no mistake. He has his own version of restlessness. Usually, he solves it by changing into wildshape or meditating. Everything to keep his mind off of you, possibly getting hurt out there, without him by your side to help.

His main love language is acts of service. After that is physical touch. He keeps you in mind with everything he does.

Sometimes, he helps Gale with cooking. He likes to forage, and always brings plenty of good snacks to camp.

[luna-writes-stuff]

Time In A Bottle, Astarion

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count: 2584

Tw: pls it’s so difficult to write for BG3, idk how y’all do this. Looming anxiety, act II. Mentions of alcohol/local drunks (you’re a tavern keeper). No race, gender, or class specified. One (1) innuendo, but it’s hidden.

Summary: Travelling through the Shadowlands seemed to bring more anxiety than you would have initially anticipated. In the Last Light Inn you’re all caught up in your head when Astarion finds you. Trying his best to soothe you, you discuss whatever the future holds once you’re finally free.

Requested by @bogginswritings

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“If I could save time in a bottle The first thing that I'd like to do Is to save every day 'til eternity passes away Just to spend them with you.”

He never believed in fate. Hell, if fate had been real, it had been terribly cruel to him. And fate had always been a positive daydream. Never of the material only seen in your nightmares. Thus - fate was a lie. It was purely a coincidence that you happened to be everywhere he was.

Yes, just a coincidence that you happened to meet him whilst a gang of thieves tried to sneak up on him. You hadn’t even known the elf, but part of you had urged you to step in and pretend to know him. You couldn’t quite tell how or why, and though he seemed perfectly capable of handling himself, you had stepped in, dragging him by his arm into clear sight - away from the shady alley he had found himself in. Besides a short introduction and a brief nod of gratitude, you didn’t exchange many words.

But then you met him later in a bar. By rights you shouldn’t have even remembered his face, but somehow you did. And he did as well. Finding him somewhat owing you some form of gratitude he had treated you to a drink, and you started a short conversation.

Then, again, you wouldn’t see him for weeks, until stumbling back into him upon market squares, theatres, libraries, and harbours. The more you saw him, the more you found yourself longing to see him again. You had never hoped to see him on an alien ship, though.

It was a brief glimpse, a wandering eye over a room you weren’t meant to see, but your eyes caught his figure in a pod for a second. Then, everything had gone dark.

Having come across him after your escape, it seemed logical to stick with him - he had been the person you knew the best. But what initially started out as sheer survival instincts and panic had begun to grow into something similar to fondness. A feeling he couldn’t deny either. Be that as it may, you both remained silent about it. There were more pressing matters in your head, both literally and figuratively.

“If I could make days last forever. If words could make wishes come true. I'd save every day like a treasure, and then Again, I would spend them with you.”

Bravery had been your growing companion the close you got to Moonrise Towers and salvation. But it had begun to waver the second you had stepped foot into the Shadowlands. Words could not express your gratitude once you found the Last Light Inn, but the pressing urgency of complete darkness never once faltered from your mind. Your eyes couldn’t seem to tear from it either, as your frame sat on a lone balcony, staring into the abyss outside the dome, silent stares giving you glares back, washing shivers up your spine. You had already been on edge, so when Astarion decided to sit down next to you without as much as alerting you of his presence, you couldn’t help the panicked skip in the beat of your heart.

“Great mother of-“ You shrieked, clutching your chest as you forced yourself to halt your words. “Astarion, don’t do that.” “Oh, but I do love to scare you,” He replied through a laugh, letting his legs fall between the bars, dangling over the tiny river below. You didn’t reply to him. It wasn’t the first time he scared you, but unlike then, you couldn’t find yourself appreciating the gesture anymore.

“You’re no fun,” He sighed when you failed to respond. “Too caught up in this looming death thing?” “Well, yes,” You affirmed. “We don’t have any sense of direction here and the shadows have eyes - quite literally. So, yes. I am ‘too caught up in this looming death thing’.” Taken aback by your quick fire of words, he leaned back a little. “We have our fairy friend.” He tried to console. “Ah, yes,” You agreed. “That’ll teach them.”

A scoff of entertainment came from him as he gently observed you. The trail his eyes made over your body sent a slight shiver down your spine, but you pushed it away. “I sense a faint scent of stress on you.” He spoke. “Truly?” You asked, raising your eyebrows in mock-surprise. “Then, I shall indulge you: there is panic, fear, and loneliness also.” “That sounds awful.” Astarion commented, causing you to shrug, your eyes falling back into the darkness in front of you. He seemed so calm - almost at peace: “How are you so okay with all of this?”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke. “Well, someone has to keep the spirits up in this group.” You nodded once, a faint smile on your face. “Tremendous job you’re doing at that. I am quite sure Gale will break down once the first person asks him how he's doing.” “He is going to blow himself up.” Astarion mumbled, tilting his shoulder from side to side in understanding. You cast him a look over your shoulder. “Don’t sugarcoat it.”

“But there never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do once you find them.”

He was quiet for a while, watching your eyes stare at nothing, the absence of light almost reflecting on your face. “If it helps,” He began. “I don’t like it either.” Furrowing your eyebrows together, you looked back at him. “Gale blowing up?” “What? No.” He said quickly, before shaking his head. “I mean - I don’t like it, no, but that is not what I meant.”

You sighed. As much as some tried to deny it, you had grown very fond of your travelling group, and you were almost certain the feeling was mutual. You hated to think of what would happen if the tadpoles were to transform you - or what would happen if you managed to actually get them out of your heads. You might never see Astarion again. He’d get his revenge and vanish, free to do his own bidding. You couldn’t blame him for it, but the thought hurt all the same.

“I hate it here too,” The elf admitted. “It has this sense of emptiness. Feeds into loneliness.” You didn’t dare to ask him more of it. You knew his struggles and buttons, but you weren’t going to push them now. Not when there was too much going on in your head as it was. Thus, you tried to change the topic: “If we manage to somehow survive everything, what is to become of you?”

The elf gave you a curious look. His eyes - however - hardened slightly, before they fell to the bannisters in front of him. “I think you know.” “I mean,” You tried. “After you have had your peace. What will you do?” That seemed to make him think for a while. You were grateful for the harpers talking in the yard - you could not have dealt with absolute silence now. “Whatever I want.” Astarion finally revealed, almost struggling with the words. “To not have to obey one's commands or wishes would be something…” His voice trailed off, trying to find the right words. “New,” He settled on. “I wouldn’t know what I’d do now. That is all for later.”

Then, his eyes met yours, an unknown glint within them, the hint of a smirk on his face - a drastic change to his expression seconds earlier. “Why?” At his look and undertone, your face heated up slightly, your eyes involuntarily dwindling down to your hands, which had grasped each other in light anxiety. “Just a question.” You justified.

“I've looked around enough to know That you're the one I want to go through time with.”

You could hear his chuckle, his eyes never leaving your form. “I see.” He answered, “What is to become of you when we survive?” Coughing up the uncomfortable feeling in the back of your throat, you shrugged nonchalantly. “Back to Baldur’s Gate.” You answered truthfully. “I had a life there - a job. Friends and family who might still live.” A sudden jolt of daring shot through you as you forced your head to rise, a cheeky grin now covering your face. “Why?” He could laugh at that, following your words as he shrugged. “Just a question.”

A second, comfortable silence followed. You ignored the irregular beating of your heart of Astarion’s eyes almost drilling holes into the side of your skull. Had it always been so abnormally hot?

Shifting under his gaze, you turned slightly, now giving him your full attention. “Won’t it get boring?” You dared to ask, taking him by surprise. “I’m sorry?” He returned, unsure of what you were asking or what you were insinuating. A frantic knock against his chest from the inside was forced down as you continued to speak: “You’ll live forever,” “Well, not exactly forever,” He interrupted. “I’m not invincible.” “You have no plan for the future, so you intend to wander alone forever?”

That question took him aback. Sure, he had fantasised about what his life would be like once he was finally free, but there never had been a solid plan or bucket list. Just a handful of things he longed to do - such as swim or walk under sunlight without growing uncomfortable, but these weren’t life plans. These were simple goals.

“Well, there’s no one I can really share it with, is there?” He questioned, trying to bruh the matter off, as if he hadn’t wondered about it himself. “Of course, there are brief entertainments, but no… settlements.” The hint in his voice caused your shoulders to lower slightly, a small amount of defeat watching over your back staring, staring at you menacingly. You pretended it didn’t bother you, though. Instead, you smiled for him, another shrug passing you as you leaned your head to the side.

“I suppose.”

“If I had a box just for wishes And dreams that had never come true. The box would be empty Except for the memory of how they were answered by you.”

“And you, then?” He returned, matching the gesture on your face. “Cursed to spend your life being wed off to some low life farmer?” You chuckled at him, shaking your head in dismissal as you recounted your working days in a local tavern, serving visitors and locals ale whilst they would rant and talk about everything. It was something you never thought you’d find yourself missing. But those now appeared to be the simpler days, and the longer your travel became, the more you find yourself urging to go back to those days, having taken nothing for granted.

“More like cursed to spend my life aiding drunks.” You commented, a fond smile on your face as you silently recounted all those times you had to throw out old drunks. Bothers then, that seemed to be a daydream now. “That sounds dull.” Astarion dismissed, not at all pleased with the image of you having to throw out drunks who might have been twice your size.

“No,” You returned sarcastically. “Wandering the planes of this world on your own for all eternity sounds lovely.” “Again, not for all eternity.” The elf corrected, but you ignored it, ranting off your bothers with eternity: “Everyone you know will be dead by the time your end comes, so it might as well be eternity.” You swallowed harshly as you processed your words, casting him a sorrowful look. “I’m sorry,” You apologised. “That sounded harsh.” But instead of a frown, that ever-apparent smirk was still on his face: “Don’t fret, darling. I’ll visit your tavern until the day you die.” “Oh, I really hope I won’t serve my entire life there.”

Both of you laughed at that, your arms falling against the bannisters as you leaned against it, resting your head on the side, directed Astarion’s way. He simply looked at you, almost seeming hesitant - carefully choosing out his next words.

“You don’t have to.” He settled on. You didn’t quite catch his underlying meaning. “Maybe you don’t, but most of us have to participate in society.” “No interest in wandering the planes of this world?” That caught you off-guard. Sure, he has flirted with you before, but never with the intention of starting something serious. You weren’t sure if you were imagining this. Perhaps you were. Best to laugh it off: “With you?” You feigned humour. “Where’d I get my happiness from?” “Oh, you’re hilarious.” The elf mocked, but his voice turned serious again. “You wouldn’t want to travel the world?” “Of course I would,” You confessed quickly. “But with what money?”

“But there never seems to be enough time To do the things you want to do once you find them.”

Silence once more. Astarion hadn’t really worried about money before, even when he was still a normal elf. Wealth had become relatively easy for him, whether he wanted it or not.

“You know, once I’m done with everything, I’ll have enough money to accompany me for decades. Money wouldn’t be an issue.” Nope, you weren’t imagining things. If you were, this had been a terribly cruel joke. He would have never spoken like this if he had no intention of keeping his promises. And though you would have loved to join him, the glum setting of your current journey had drowned your spirits slightly.

“Well, there is the precious issue concerning time. We don’t have the same time.” He could see the conflict and pain in your eyes, but - as always - he seemed to have already prepared his next line: “I have a very easy answer to that.” “Oh, that’s kinky.” You tried to brush off, pros and cons silently ticking off in your head. “Don’t tempt me, darling.” He returned in a low voice. You sighed at that, your gaze falling back upon the distance, only now from the side. “Astarion,” You muttered. “I’d love to. But I have a family out there. You’re important to me, but I can’t just disappear from them forever.”

He understood. Well, maybe not entirely, but he knew it would be a big matter for you. It would have been for everyone. Everyone but him. He knew how important your life was, and as his had been taken too early, he could only imagine what it would be like to that to another. “So, we’ll take care of your stupid drunks for a couple years. Then, we can leave.” He convinced, drawing a chuckle out of you. “That’s romantic.”

Taking you by surprise, his hand fell upon yours, which had been clutching the bannister. “I just want to spend it with you.” He spoke sincerely. No laugh, no smile, no crinkle by his eyes. There was nothing but truth and resilience in his words. You grew weak at the simple touch, but it was his face which drew you over the line: “If we live, I’ll help you get your revenge. We’ll see what happens afterwards.”

He couldn’t suppress the smile on his face, his fingers squeezing your hands once, before letting go, a dramatic groan coursing through him. “Ugh, an eternity with you?” “You brought it up.” You countered. Again, his hand found yours, this time intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Darling, I can’t wait.”

“I've looked around enough to know That you're the one I want to go through time with.”

[iamgodsoopsie]

Astarion Headcanons (that you probably won't like) Pt. 2:

Part 1 link

Part 3 link

More Astarion headcanons! (that are mostly me projecting but with an Astarion flavored twist.)

BG3 does an excellent job at depicting SA trauma and the beginning of the healing process/journey. Many of the headcanons I've seen floating around (intentionally or unintentionally) gloss over the uglier side of healing from (prolonged) trauma. I'm not judging anyone for magically healing him, he's fictional after all, but I'd like to make some more ...realistic... headcanons.

Disclaimer: Everyone's healing process looks different, but they tend share commonalities. These headcanons are based on my own experiences. Not everyone who is healing from their trauma will experience what I have or have experienced it like I have.

[Please don't message me with explicit details about your trauma. I am at the point in my healing journey where I can share my experiences, and commiserate with other's similar experiences, but I am unable to support others in a more personal manner at this time. I wish you the best of luck in your healing process/ journey.]

Spoiler warning

Mental illness, SA, & DV Trigger Warnings: I cannot stress these enough this post is much more descriptive and potentially triggering than part one was.

These headcanons are based on an Astarion who is still a spawn and romantically involved with a Tav who honestly loves him and isn't abusive or manipulative. Also Cazador is dead and Astarion got to stab him. They also assume that he himself does not turn into Cazador 2.0 or Wish.com Cazador.

I hope you're ready for abrupt mood swings.

--- One minute he's codependent and can't make a decision on his own because he's overwhelmed, the next he's hyper-independent and will take offense at any suggestion you make.

----- Astarion is aware that staying in either of the two extremes is unhealthy and would eventually lead him to acting like Cazador.

^ This ties into point two: You need walk the fine line between patient and understanding while he processes "200 years of Shit. PURE SHIT!". And at the same time you need to be firm in your own boundaries with how you allow him to treat you.

--- He's gone 200 years without autonomy and has no memory of what life was like before Cazador turned him. He has no frame of reference other than romance novels and watching couples interact with each other from afar.

-----TBH the best thing for him is to stay in regular contact with Halsin. The man has the same flavor as trauma as Astarion while also having strong boundaries and open honest/ healthy communication in his relationships. He can unjudgementally help Astarion navigate the pitfalls of his healing journey through first hand experience.

Plus Ultra Catholic levels of guilt.

--- Guilt for what he did while he was a spawn. Guilt for how he started his relationship with you (even after you've told him you forgive him multiple times). Guilt for how he lashes out at the one person who has shown him unconditional love (you). Guilt because he feels like he's dragging you down into his darkness and tainting you. Guilt because he fears he's pulling you down to bring himself up. Guilt for feeling guilty because it doesn't absolve him of his sins and makes healing harder.

Self-esteem issues

--- He was SA'd for 200 years, he was forced into prostitution, he was tortured in every conceivable way, he was made to do reprehensible things and learned to find "joy" in them because he would've lost all of himself and his humanity otherwise.

------ His inner saboteur (who sounds like Cazador and himself simultaneously- adding to his self hate) tells him that he is disgusting, wrong, filthy, a burden, unlovable, undeserving of happiness, a monster.

------- Like everything else these thoughts will become less frequent and easier for him to handle as time goes on. All you can do is love him while he self-flagellates and hates himself. One day he'll see himself as you see him.

^ Tying into all the points above, especially the one right before this one. You're going to feel useless. Most of the time all you can do is demonstrate your love for him and sit there with him while he is bombarded with years of repressed feelings forcing their way out.

--- In the beginning your attempts to help him will frequently seem to have the opposite of their intended effect.

----- It's important that you be honest with him about how you're doing mentally. It does him no favors if you set yourself on fire to keep him warm.

------- You'll be angry on his behalf and can't exact revenge.

--------- That being said you are helping him so much more than you think you are. I cannot express in words how much just being there while Astarion slogs through the painful process of healing will help him.

^ ALL of these will get less intense and easier to deal with in time. He will heal and move on from his horrid past. But, it will involve a lot of trial and error. He will have periods of exponential growth followed by a hard backslide in progress. But he will get there.

I wouldn't say that loving Astarion is hard, but it does involve conscious effort on both his and your parts.

[moyashidoodles]

Tiny doodles of Pidge (my Tav) from act 1 and early act 2. Her hair changed for each act so it’s easy to tell where they are in their journey by how disheveled she looks.

Pidge is a wild magic sorcerer with an affinity for soul magic. She can see the color of others souls (I don’t consider this game breaking, but also it’s my brain baby so idc if that’s possible in the 5e rule set) there are some supplemental fan spells and materials for adding soul magic and flavor and there’s the soul knife subclass rogue which I think was a Critical Roll addition? Ugh, look at me spreading misinformation on the internet.

OC lore below the cut.

Content warning: abusive relationship discussion (parent and child), implied sexual and physical abuse.

Anyway, Pidge grew up Rapunzel like with a very controlling and narcissistic “mother knows best” mom. The only reason her mother even had a child was to be a “spare” body for when her mother succumbed to a fatal illness (and to help her mother transfer souls into soul coins and gems to be bartered in the 9 hells. Lots of devil’s work)

Pidge’s mother is controlling to the extent that Pidge was not allowed to learn anything about her wild magic and spent much of her life warded to keep her from accessing the weave. “For her own safety,” of course. The only magic she was allowed and praised for learning was soul magic, and this was to help her mother with her research into immortality and with business ventures.

Pidge was also used as “entertainment” for her mother’s important guests. Basically anything that her mother could get from Pidge, she would try to use to her benefit.

About 3-5months before the beginning of the game, Pidge escaped and crafted an amulet to protect her body and soul from being hijacked by her mother.

She is the only member of the bg3 origin crew who did not lose skills when she was infected by the tadpole. She didn’t really have skills to begin with. Much to Gale’s dismay, she learns basically on the fly and does a lot of “firebolt first, ask questions later.” To her, practical experience is much more important than book learning. Really she has adhd and can’t rote memorize for the life of her.

She identifies with Karlach early on as they both have had dealings with the hells, although Pidge is just beginning to understand the ramifications of her mother’s hellish business of soul coin forging.

Pidge is also very afraid in act 1 of Gale finding her out as she was told to keep her soul magic affinity secret by her mother. In truth the stigma for soul magic is not so bad, but it was a manipulation technique to keep Pidge from explaining to any magic practitioners what they were working on and how her mother planned to use the research to steal Pidge’s body.

Her mother is still hunting her down, so Pidge needs a permanent solution or soul barrier to keep herself from her mother “living vicariously” through her.

Bodily autonomy is stupid important to her. She rejects the Emperor the moment he tells her to “embrace her ilithid potential” for fear of losing herself. She is self conscious to the extreme and keeps notes on her newfound companions likes and dislikes so she can keep them happy. She had a legitimate panic attack when both Gale and Astarion wanted the necromancy of Thay because, according to her calculations, they would disapprove if the other was the recipient.

She fell for Astarion after rather disliking him for a good ten day or two. He won her over by being actually reliable in scrapes and being really funny. She can’t remember the last time anyone made her laugh, so she loves the feeling. They are the two smooth brained members of the group. Similar brain cell count.

This ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be. If you made it to the end, then you will have made it to the end! *salutes in Barcus Wroot*

[oops-all-concrete]

This was requested by @wine-effectao3 !!

BG3 characters react to the other companions story events/conflicts! These lovelies watch each other go through so much and I have so many HC's about how they feel/interact. There isn't a HC for every character combination, but I did as many as I have rn- I'm open to a part 2 👀

Spoilers for BG3! Enjoy the fluff ^^

(I don't have another image rn, so enjoy my necromancer durge; Ezerah)

Lae'zel -

Lae'zel tends to keep to her own affairs, so stays distant, but watching the Blade of Frontiers gain horns from the source of his commitment and power over what was essentially a mislead, a lie?? The thought of Vlaakith doing the same to her, makes her sick. But inspired her all the same, seeing him take it in stride. She always spoke highly of him as a warrior. Shadowheart gained Lae'zels sympathies as well after the fall of Ketheric. Both Wyll and Shadowheart never have to worry about their weapons being maintained and sharpened. Lae'zel gladly allows them both as much time to relax as she can.

Shadowheart -

Knowing she and Astarion have such similar stories makes the vampire seem a lot more...human, for lack of a better term. She understands that all his avoidance and irritation with immediate kindness isn't out of just being mean- he doesn't want to come off as vulnerable or easy to take advantage of ever again. She goes out of her way to make comments so people know the kindness is begrudging or hesitant, so people don't get that idea. He doesn't know she does that. She won't tell him either. And as much as they butt heads, Lae'zel would have a cleric at her side at a moments notice if she asked.

Wyll -

Watching a man like Gale (someone Wyll looked up to given his mastery of magic without need for a devil's pact) be told by his goddess his old lover- turn so cold as to ask for his death? Nothing makes him more hopeless. Wyll tried to take his mind off it by asking Gale about his home, asking him about plans, making sure he has them. Because Wyll won't let him sacrifice himself. On top of that, he feels awful for Karlach. She inspires him so much knowing what she went through in Avernus and survived, still giggling and dancing. As a lover of dance, he teaches her ballroom and formal dance, in turn, she teaches him house and breakdancing.

Karlach -

There is nobody she feels for in the camp quite like Astarion. She cannot stand the utter hopelessness, anger and betrayal in his eyes and voice whenever he speaks of Cazador, and how willing he is for help from a devil of all people. She knows that desperation. It hurts to see. She sh!t talks Gortash and Zariel with him, so he has an excuse to talk about wiping the floor with Cazador. She also likes watching Gale get excited whenever she asks him a question about- anything really. She hates when his big brown eyes get all sad, so she'll keep him occupied talking about weave and potioncraft and old scripture.

Gale -

While it doesn't bother Wyll so much, Gale is a mommas boy, and can't imagine not having her. He makes plans for his mother to meet Wyll. She makes amazing brownies, and every person should be able to enjoy a mothers baking. (Wyll loves Morena and visits her often after act 3. She loves him for keeping her son safe.) Other than this, watching Lae'zel and Shadowheart lose the admiration of their Gods hurts him personally. He knows that fall. Goes out of his way to make sure they don't lose hope. "Who's to say you can't still have a dragon? There's plenty around. Bigger. Scarier. Probably also hates mind-flayers. Perfect for a woman of your demeanour." He assures her. / "If its any consolation, I like the new hair, Shadowheart. Between you and me, you look much better with white hair than he does" He jokes.

Astarion -

As a man used to fixing his things (since they're all he's got) he goes out of his way to make sure Karlachs things are all in good shape. Clive gets torn at some point or other, and he's pulling out his fabrics and sewing set and wordlessly returns him to Karlachs tent, much to her relief. Neither of them have a lot- so of course he's going to maintain what she has. She deserves it. Also, Shadowheart telling her story hits home for Astarion a lot. Being vulnerable, scared and otherwise an easy target- and having your whole life turned upside down because someone took advantage of it? He becomes a lot more talkative with her. Even if it's just over wine and complaining. Oh, and of course nothing makes him happier than watching Lae'zel turn her back on Vlaakith. Go her.

Halsin -

Halsin has nothing but praise for Wyll. His endless kindness, his patience with the teifling children, his level-headedness in crisis- he is the leader Halsin wishes he was. Halsin also sees Astarions hunger for power. Halsin might not speak of it often, but he's had at least 3 years of what Astarion's suffered for 200, and he knows how much powerlessness feels like vulnerability. He let's the vampire know he's got a bear at his back, even if its met with an eye roll.

[the-mic-drop]

Zelink gets Isekaied into BG3 Pt7: Camp Emotional Turmoil

Zelda- High Elf Draconic Lineage Sorcerer

Link- Half Wood Elf Champion Fighter

So far: Team Link defeated Auntie Ethel and saved Mayrina. Link got all melancholic.

Team Link returns to camp not long after Team Zelda gets back. Link jog-walks up to Zelda and gives her a possessive kiss right off the bat. Karlach audibly coos and everyone (except Lae'zel) smirks at the display.

Zelda is flustered, since Link was reluctant to show affection before, and asks him what's happened. He says he'll explain when they debrief.

Once the party changes into camp clothes and eats dinner, Zelda gives her team's debrief. They cleared out the area's Gnolls and played firefighter at Waukeen's rest.

Once Duke Ravengard comes up, Wyll reveals that's his father. Questions ensue. Moonrise Towers becomes an objective.

Moving on, Zelda tells them about the Githyanki encounter. Most relevantly, the Gith are hunting Shadowheart's artefact. Zelda gently (compared to how Lae'zel would have) coaxes an explanation out of Shadowheart.

Shadowheart tells them all she's able. She's on a mission for Lady Shar and has an amount of amnesia because of it.

Zelda diffuses some tension between Shadowheart and Lae'zel.

Link tells the party about Auntie Ethel and her true nature; a Hag. He explains that they defeated her and saved a woman named Mayrina. He tells Mayrina's story and tells them about the wand.

Lae'zel and Astarion are a little upset that no progress was made with the Goblins, but not so upset that anyone makes a scene.

Before they wrap up, Link mentions Gandrel and how he is hunting Astarion and a possible connection to a village attack and child abduction. The party is understandably perturbed, but Astarion is quick to tell them about Cazador and how he'd rarely done anything that he hadn't been ordered to. That conversation goes as normal.

While the group discusses their moves for the next day, Mizora appears out of the campfire and turns Wyll into a devil. Everyone is appropriately broken up about it. Link doesn't quite get it, since it just looks like he had horns now, but he reads the room.

Before they go to sleep that night, Zelda asks Link if he's ok and if Mayrina is the reason why he acted differently. Link explains that Mayrina being willing to travel with her undead husband on the hope that he can be restored made him think of how far he'd gone to bring her back. Twice. And he couldn't help but think how he might act in Mayrina's place. That rabbit hole didn't lead anywhere good.

Zelda says something comforting, but the question lingers in their minds. They decide to sleep in the same bedroll that night. (No hanky panky. Sorry, voyeurs!)

That night, the party is visited by the Dream Visitor for the first time.

Zelda's visitor looks a lot like a Gerudo, a few features reminiscent of Urbosa. That sets off all kinds of warning bells. She plays along, getting whatever information she can while waiting for the Visitor to make a mistake. When the Visitor claims to be an adventurer from Baldur's Gate, Zelda jumps.

"How did a Gerudo make it to Baldur's Gate?"

When the Visitor can't answer, Zelda demands their true identity. If the urging to use the tadpole's powers wasn't suspicious enough, this all but confirms her suspicions. Or confirms the validity of being suspicious.

The Visitor simply asks for trust before the dream ends.

The next morning, Zelda gathers everyone together to tell them about the dream. Link reports a similar dream with a visitor that resembled King Rhoam, but Hylians and Elves are similar enough that he didn't make the same connection Zelda did.

Everyone else reports a similar dream in turn and, with the revelation that the visitor(s) is likely an illusory form, even those who are usually willing to absorb more tadpoles, like Astarion, are adamantly against it. With the group's resolve hardened, they gear up and prepare to face the Goblin Camp.

[icykalisartblog]

About this post. @marchstarling This was exactly it, really well said! In my first playthrough of this game, I was RPing as a noble character with similar values to Wyll, so I ended up romancing him because they became fast friends who agreed on so many things. I still had my character press for Wyll to not sacrifice himself and instead choose to be free in the late-game, but they were very similar people.

But Wyll is super stubborn, as you say. And he is extremely afflicted by learned helplessness (because of how he's been failed and tormented in life by authority figures) and leans into toxic hyper excellence because of how he was raised and then traumatized. Wyll can't choose freedom as a companion if a player character doesn't tell him to. While he pushes for others to be free and always wants the best for his fellow party members, this never causes him to self-reflect without a player character's intervention. He needs support at that pivotal moment. So when I played as him, I had a problem. I didn't want him to sacrifice himself, but how was I going to RP as him and make those choices knowing that normally he can't if left to his own devices? I really want to discuss this narrative and pairing in detail, more (spoiler warning for BG3) below the cut:

I had Astarion as a party member in my first run, and I did like his dynamic with Wyll. I liked that they are both lacking in life experience but they can sort of cover for the gaps in each other's experience. They have an idealist vs. cynic and monster hunter vs. vampire dynamic. They're friendly and generally complimentary when talking to other people about each other, but argue 90% of the time in their overworld banter together. Wyll liking Astarion (provisionally) but also being adamant that he make good choices is the kind of support Astarion needs. I also saw that they were attracted to each other, but all Origin characters show that they're attracted to each other to some degree, so I didn't take much note of that. I basically saw them as a nice pair of friends. I also really felt like Astarion's character arc was a roller coaster ride of emotions, in which I kept the guy around because he was funny and useful and I had been his friend for too long to turn on him, but I was always slightly terrified that he was going to turn into a carbon copy of his abuser by the end of his story. I was extremely surprised and relieved when instead he became quite calm, nice, and oddly optimistic once freed instead. Given how deeply traumatized he is and how long it takes for him to be free, I never really understood how so many people were saying they enjoyed romancing him, either... I was like, surely he doesn't need a romantic relationship at this time? Wouldn't that end up feeling exploitative?

All of my opinions shifted once I started my Origin Wyll run. From the very start, Wyll and Astarion were having heated debates about heroism and sacrifice and arguing often, and since I was playing as Wyll, I realized he desperately needs this. The fact that Wyll matches Astarion's energy and is often more pointed with him than he is with anybody else is good—because that's Wyll being honest and genuine. It's not the Blade of Frontiers act he always feels the need to rely on. And once Wyll was forcibly transformed into his devilish form, I felt like in the melancholy haze of his mind that he was trying to so hard to push through and cover up, he needed the playfulness and kinship he had with this vampire who was also turned against his will.

Wyll normally takes things really slow. He believes in fairy tale romance and courtship, and doesn't feel like he can have sex until marriage. In fact, he's the only romanceable companion to have no sex scene. This is despite the fact that he says his father always pushed for him to engage in "revelry" more often. But I think once Wyll was touched by the Hells, he sort of... gave up. He felt like he could never be forgiven even if he did save his father, and so in a moment of weakness, Wyll stumbled into something with Astarion. I don't think Wyll saw it as casual, because he doesn't feel like he can let himself be casual. I think he felt like this was all he deserved, and that as a monster, maybe he could at least make his fellow monster's existence a little better. In a way, I think Astarion and Wyll were both using each other and making things way more complicated than they had to be. Deep down, they were just two guys who like each other and like bickering with each other. I bet Wyll thought he was in love, but wasn't yet, because he felt like if he was with someone, he had to be in love and everything had to be happily ever after. However, the constant arguing and pushing each other to be better made him start to realize this wasn't a fairy tale, it was something more grounded—something even better.

I'm not sure when Wyll started to feel love for real. I think it was around the same time Astarion decided to say that Wyll is an incredible person and that Astarion wanted a relationship but wasn't sure how to have one, because throughout Act II Astarion began being quite protective... and Wyll isn't used to that. He's always had to be everyone else's hero to feel wanted and needed. In Act III, once they killed Cazador—which was amazing because Wyll freed Astarion turn one and then he Eldritch Blasted Cazador close to the abyss, giving Astarion the opportunity to use Mobile Shot to push him all the way off and defeat him in a smooth display of synergy—I think Wyll realized that he wants this real, unconditional love with Astarion. That he can finally be secure in the knowledge that no matter how they argue, even if those arguments end in tears, Astarion will always stand by his side and they can work through differences in opinion without Wyll being abandoned. That he wants to live! And that's why I had him tell Astarion in the graveyard that he wants and loves him.

I'm sure Wyll was envious of how kind and optimistic Astarion became once he was freed, because Wyll still has to deal with his own abuser's presence. But I think that envy as well his and Astarion's love were enough to push Wyll to choose freedom, to outwit Mizora, to save his father, and finally to tell his father that he can forgive but not forget. Wyll was empowered enough to express that he doesn't want the mantle of dukedom, that he doesn't want the acceptance from his father that he's sought for so many years to come with yet more expectations. And it's so nice that in the end, Astarion—who always felt safer being selfish than selfless—is so eager to become a hero by Wyll's side.

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 11 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

AO3 Link is here, my dear.

Word Count: 5,061 (These chapters keep getting longer...)

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

Act I, Chapter 11 - The Underdark

A day (and possibly a night, you weren’t sure) had passed since coming down here, and you had been traveling along with the others, staying in the back, guarding their packs whenever enemies came. But you were growing tired; you didn’t have the stamina that they did. You were amazed by the fact that they could all continue pushing onwards, even after multiple fights against strange creatures, and carefully tip-toeing past poisonous fungi that spewed deadly spores.

You started to lag further and further behind. Determined to not be the one to slow them down, you continued to push yourself forward, despite the fatigue tugging at your body.

A small rock led to your downfall. Literally, as you faceplanted after tripping over the damn thing.

You heard your name being called, but it sounded a little faint. You struggled to get up, hating the fact that you were feeling this tired. You’d only been walking, not fighting like the others.

“Perhaps we should make camp,” Astarion said all of a sudden. “I’m sure the rest of you are feeling hungry.”

The others agreed, and even though they were saying that they were wanting to rest anyway, you felt a tinge of guilt. They probably could have kept going if it wasn’t for me.

After some searching, Karlach found a great site, tucked away in the cliffs, surrounded by luminous mushrooms, grasses, and lichen. There was only one path out, two outcrops overlooking waterfalls, and a small pond. The orange-capped mushrooms livened up the place with their color.

“This is lovely,” you said as you explored the perimeter, touching the rocks, the mushrooms, basically everything that you could reach. They were all pleasantly cool to the touch. There was even a small alcove, hidden away, where one could wash up away from prying eyes. 

Your energy renewed by seeing the environs, you immediately started setting up a campfire. I wonder how much cured meat we have in the supply packs.

While everyone picked their spots and set up their tents, you made something simple, a tray with meats and hard cheeses that the group had looted on their way into the Underdark. Glad the goblin camp was full of food.

After you laid out the food for everyone, using one of the giant mushrooms as a makeshift table, you went around to look at some of the smaller fungi around the camp. You sniffed each one, and when one of them smelled particularly woodsy and savory, you took a small nibble.

“What are you doing?” Gale exclaimed, sounding as if he was clutching his nonexistent pearls at your impromptu taste test.

“It smelled good,” you replied matter-of-factly.

“It could be poisonous.”

You rolled your eyes. Gods, Gale could be such a worrywort sometimes. “Relax, I sniffed it. It’s fine.”

He looked askance at you.

Just to fuck with him, you grabbed a mushroom, slowly brought it to your mouth, and licked it, staring at him the whole time. It was immensely fun watching the horror and panic on his face.

Huh, this one tastes a bit different—

You blinked and looked down. The mushroom that you had licked was not the tan-colored mushroom you had bit into earlier, but a dark orange-colored one with a similar shape.

Oh shit.

“Uh, I got about five seconds before I go crazy, so please get me an antidote—”

You fell on your face.

***

When you opened your eyes again, you were tied up, laying down on your side on the cool, damp ground. Your hair and your clothes felt wet. You groaned as your entire body groaned in protest at being conscious.

What the fuck—

“Good, you’re awake.”

You craned your neck to see Astarion sitting by the campfire, reading one of his books.

“I wish I wasn’t,” you muttered.

He closed his book and set it in his lap. He turned towards you, sitting primly like a royal duchess. “How much do you remember?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I licked that mushroom and blacked out.”

“I see.” He tipped his head. “And nothing else?”

“Nothing else…” You saw the mischievous grin growing on his face and immediately started to sweat. “What did I do?”

“Oh, not much.”

“Astarion…” You pulled at your bindings, but they only seemed to tighten.

“Would you like me to illuminate you?”

“Tell me or else,” you growled.

“Or else what, darling?”

“I… I won’t brush your hair anymore.”

For a split second, he looked legitimately hurt and you felt guilty. But then he sniffed daintily and turned away from you. “You brute. Now I won’t tell you anything.”

This catty little—

Astarion suddenly burst out laughing. “The look on your face!”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Come now, darling. What’s life without a bit of fun?”

You pressed your forehead against the ground. “Please just tell me what I did.”

He hemmed and hawed for a bit.

“Please?” you begged.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he finally said, giving you a taunting smirk. “First, take a look at yourself.”

You looked down. Your shirt was on backwards and your trousers were on inside-out. “Oh gods.”

“The first thing you did was throw off your shirt, announcing that it was ‘too hot’.”

Your face burned with humiliation.

Astarion looked beside himself with glee. “And then Gale and Wyll chased you around the camp. But you dodged them both, rolling and tumbling around like a child. You even managed to remove your pants while doing all this.”

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Then Gale summoned a mage hand to hold you in place while Shadowheart and Lae’zel tugged your clothes back on and tied you up. But you kept crying out about being hot, so Karlach dumped a bucket of water on you.” He grinned. “That seemed to calm you down, although you were staring up at the sky for a long time before you finally fell over and passed out.”

You closed your eyes. You couldn’t take Astarion’s mirthful expression any longer. “Can you just untie me now?”

“I don’t know. Do you have any more chaos to unleash here?”

You groaned. “No, I’m done.” I will never fuck around with mushrooms ever again.

He reached over and untied you. “And what have we learned?”

“Don’t taunt the wizard.”

“No, I think you should always taunt the wizard. Try again.”

“Don’t lick weird things?”

Astarion nodded, and then patted your head. “Good girl.” His hand lingered on your head for a little bit longer before he pulled away. For a second, you sensed a great deal of amusement, but also some fondness in his touch. Or did I imagine that?

Pushing yourself up, you cast a drying cantrip on yourself. “My whole body hurts.” You looked around and noticed that everyone else had gone to sleep. “I want to change,” you said.

“Do what you want,” he said dismissively as he went back to his book.

“So… can you go to your tent?”

“Why so shy, my dear?” He smirked. “I’ve already seen you running around in your underwear.”

You sighed. He had a point. It was nothing he hadn't already seen. Still, you waited a few moments to make sure he was engrossed in his book before you turned away from Astarion and shrugged your shirt off.

“What’s that?”

You turned your head. “What’s what?”

He pointed at your lower back. “That tattoo.”

“Huh?”

You and he shared a look. 

“Wait here.” He immediately got up and went to his tent, coming back with a mirror. He angled it so that you could see the tattoo on your lower back.

“What in the hells is that?” you muttered. A strange seal, with foreign script spiraling within what looked like a stone circle. The seal’s location on your back was the same place where you felt a tingling every time you had a hunch.

Astarion leaned in closer and looked at it with a discerning eye. “Whatever it is, it looks a bit faded.” He leaned in closer. He pronounced some sounds, but cocked his head in confusion. “It looks like Elvish, but the words don’t sound like any language that I can recognize.”

You vaguely recalled that your mother always would always touch you there, but you never thought anything of it before. You had thought it was just a motherly touch. Was she checking the seal as well? Replenishing its magic, perhaps?

Unfortunately, you would never be able to ask her why she put a seal on you. But at the very least, now you know why you always felt the tingling on the small of your back.

“Thank you,” you said finally. 

He was quiet for a moment. “Well, you did the same for me.” After a moment, he asked, “Does it do anything?”

“What? The seal?” 

“What else would I be talking about?”

You debated telling him, but after a few moments, you relented. What harm could it be? “I get a tingle back there sometimes, like when I get a hunch about danger or going in the right direction.”

He hummed. “Sounds useful.”

“Only when I know what to look for. Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m getting a tingle and I get anxiety over nothing.” You pulled your sleeping gown out of your pack and threw it on. The soft material felt nice against your skin and you sighed happily. 

“Have you ever tried to control it?” 

You paused. Why the hells didn't I think of that? “Erm, the thought hasn't occurred to me.”

“Perhaps you should try,” he said. 

You nodded. “I could try.” You kicked off your boots and pulled your pants off from underneath your sleeping gown. “Did you want a snack?”

Astarion shook his head. “As much as I’d like to, you still smell of that fungus. I’m not feeling a particular need to lose my facilities tonight.”

You resisted the urge to sniff yourself. “Ah, I see.”

“After all, if you wanted to see my underwear, all you had to do was ask—”

“Good night, Astarion,” you said as you crawled into your bedroll. 

He chuckled as he returned to the book in his hand. “Well then. I'll keep watch. Have a good night,” he said, a smirk on his face.

You fumed quietly as you rolled over and stewed in your humiliation.

***

While the sky never changed in the Underdark, you still felt like morning had come when you pushed yourself out of your cozy bedroll. The slight chill in the air along with the scent of moss and lichen that constantly permeated the air made you think of autumn nights in a forest.

You got things ready for breakfast and listened to the others make their plans for the day. You heard something about exploring a couple of paths, and that the party should split up to explore for now. Astarion, Shadowheart, and Gale were to go north, and Wyll, Karlach, and Lae’zel planned to go west. Halsin was to stay behind and guard the camp, since he was well equipped to handle multiple enemies on his own.

As the others left, you turned to Halsin. “Shall we look for some edible mushrooms?”

He nodded. “As long as you’re careful about which ones you’re picking.”

“Yes, yes, don’t remind me.”

***

Time passed as you and Halsin explored the safer areas of the Underdark near the campsite, foraging for fungi. You wished it had been uneventful, but while you were searching for herbs and mushrooms, you realized that a giant snake was nearby. 

“Erm, Halsin…” You tugged on his arm to get his attention, and pointed at the serpent slithering around the trunk of a massive tree. “We should leave.”

He looked at it for a moment. “Do you know how to cook snake meat?”

You blinked. “Yes, it’s not too different from chicken.” It took you a moment to realize why he was asking you. “Wait—”

He was already transforming.

A mere five minutes later, you were helping Halsin lug back a giant constrictor snake back to camp, your basket of freshly picked mushrooms on your arm.

The two of you got back to camp and began to dress the snake, skinning it and cutting it up for dinner. You were already seasoning it and putting the first two skewers onto the fire when you heard the alarm bell on your belt chiming softly.

“Welcome back,” you said warmly to Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion.

“What are we having tonight?” Shadowheart asked.

You pointed at the skewers. “Mushroom and snake meat skewers, seasoned with some wild herbs and rock salt.”

Gale raised an eyebrow. “Are these mushrooms… safe?”

You huffed. “Yes, they are safe,” you said acerbically.

He raised his hand in defense. “Alright, alright. It’s just that yesterday’s, ahem, debacle, has made me a bit wary.” He gestured towards you. “But if you’re certain they’re safe, then they probably are.”

You noted his use of the word probably and his tone of disbelief. I’ll remember that.

By the time Wyll, Lae’zel, and Karlach returned, the others had almost finished eating. They swapped stories and figured out their next move for tomorrow. Both teams realized that some of their leads led to the same place.

“One of us could take you to the Myconid Colony while the rest of us track down the duergar,” Wyll said to you.

“I’ll go with her,” Gale said immediately before you, or anyone else, could say anything. He turned to you. “That is, if you’re alright with that.”

You nodded. “No problem.” Unbidden, your gaze flickered over to Astarion for a brief moment, but he seemed too busy speaking quietly with Shadowheart to notice anything else.

Why did I look his way?

***

While everyone else was relaxing after dinner, you made your way down to the water's edge that you could see from the edge of the cliff. It wasn't terribly high, but you found a thin path that cut its way down a couple of switchbacks to the water. 

You heard Gale call your name, and looked back up towards the cliff. He seemed far away, but he snapped his fingers and mumbled something before he floated down from the top of the cliff.

“That’s an awfully handy spell to have,” you commented as he landed daintily on the rocks beside you.

“Saved me a lot of times in my youth, exploring the skyline of Waterdeep.”

“I imagine you troubled your parents a lot, running on top of buildings.”

He laughed. “I suppose I did.” Then he glanced at the water. “So, will you be making a hot water rune here?”

You nodded. Then you realized he was waiting. “Did… did you want to watch?”

“If you don’t mind. It’s a very different kind of magic that I haven’t really seen before, and trust me, I’ve seen plenty of magic in my time.”

Gale went on to talk about his past a bit more, elaborating on what he had already shown you through his memories on the mountain. You just nodded along, letting him prattle on.

“Ah, but I’ve said enough about myself. I’ll let you get on with your work,” he finally said after a long story involving shenanigans and hijinks with his Tressym, Tara.

You smiled politely and stepped into the water until you were halfway submerged. You walked a wide circle, wide enough for even Karlach to float on her back if she so wished, singing your heating hymn while you touched the surface of the water, trails of light blue lines streaming from your fingertips.

Towards the end of the song, you felt fatigue pulling at your legs, making every step a little harder. You pushed through, forcing yourself to finish the song, to finish the circle. I must be tired from all the traveling. I should get some more sleep.

You closed the circle and watched as steam began to rise up from the water’s surface. Stepping inside, you sighed happily, letting the heat seep through your thin clothes and into your body. After a few moments, you looked up at Gale, who was watching you curiously.

“It’s nice in here,” you said as you began to make your way back to the shore.

He held up his hands. “Hold on, I’ll move the water so you don’t get cold.” Moving his hands as if he was splitting something apart, you watched as he parted the water and made a dry path for you back to land. 

You walked back to him, putting your fingers through the water wall on either side of you for fun. He ended the spell just as you returned to shore, the water falling back down and flowing back to normal. You hummed your drying cantrip, only to see Gale observing you.

“What is it?” 

“Your magic is… interesting.”

You blinked and carefully held your expression as neutral as possible. What in the hells does he mean by that?

He finally smiled. “But I’m going to guess that you won’t tell me where you learned it.”

You shook your head. “Sorry, but no.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, he nodded. “I understand that you have your reasons, but I promise that I’m only asking out of intellectual curiosity.” He leaned in closer and spoke quieter. “But I do hope that one day, you’ll trust me enough to share.”

Maybe. But not this day. You didn’t think Gale had any connection with that particular masked lord of Waterdeep, even peripherally. But you also weren’t entirely sure. So you merely shrugged and gave him a polite smile. “Perhaps. I could still teach you a few cantrips, though.”

You tried to teach him the drying cantrip you just used, just as an exercise in methodology, but quickly both of you realized that he was a bit too tone deaf to cast it properly.

Gale shrugged. “Not sure if your method of casting is a good fit for me, though I enjoy the concept.”

You laughed. “I guess it helps that I’ve learned it since I was a child. I knew how to sing before I knew how to speak, so my mother said.”

“No wonder you sing so well. You cast all of your spells in song form?”

“I never knew any other way.”

He looked at you curiously, as if he was trying to figure something out. “I feel like there was some kind of magic like that somewhere, but I can’t quite remember.”

Ah shit, I gave him too much info. “It might just be a weird offshoot of bard magic, who knows?” you said quickly, trying to throw him off the scent.

He nodded. “Perhaps.” Then his gaze was drawn towards the hot water rune. “Now, since I was here first…”

You grinned, grateful for the change in topic. “Enjoy! I’ll head back.”

Making your way back up the trail to camp, you told the others that there was a hot water rune in the water below the cliffside, and that Gale was using it first.

Without thinking, you found yourself meandering to Astarion, who was sitting outside his tent, mixing vials.

You came close and smelled rosemary, something citrusy, and… alcohol?

“What are you doing?” you asked as you sat next to him. 

He barely glanced up at you. “Making cologne.”

You tipped your head in confusion.

Astarion finally looked up at you. “You haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

You raised an eyebrow.

He sighed and put the vial he was holding back into a wooden vial rack. Curling his finger in a come hither gesture, he then pointed at his neck. “Come close, darling. As if you were going to bite me.”

You hesitated.

“I haven’t got all day.”

You relented and came close. He didn’t smell bad, but he definitely didn’t smell… alive. It was faint, hardly detectable if you hadn’t been sniffing for it. You pulled away and looked at the items in front of him. “Is all this really necessary? I hardly smelled anything.”

“A necromancer or a well trained animal could sniff me out. But it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy can’t hide.”

You nodded. “I use rosemary when I can’t focus,” you commented idly. “And anything citrus gives me energy. I hadn’t thought to put them together.”

“It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse. Honestly, I missed my calling as a perfumer.”

You caught the slightly wistful look on his face before he turned back to his vials. “Do you have any other questions, my dear?”

Shaking your head, you moved to get up, but he suddenly spoke, quietly, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear. “You can stay, even if you don’t have any questions.”

“Oh? I’m not bothering you?”

Beyond his sultry smirk you saw a hint of a real smile, which shook you more than it should have. “Not at all. Besides, you smell delicious.”

You rolled your eyes, but sat back down anyway. “Wouldn’t that distract you?”

“On the contrary. You’re more like… a palate cleanser.”

“Glad to know I’m the olfactory equivalent of a jar of pickles,” you muttered.

He let out a small burst of a giggle, surprising you.

Sharing a smile, you stayed and helped him mix his scents.

“So what scent would you use on me?” you asked as you helped him finish his last vial. 

“Let me think.” He started putting things away as he ruminated. “Definitely something a little spicy to go with your inherent sweetness.”

He plucked one of the other vials from his kit. Giving it a few hard shakes, he unstoppered it, placed a finger over the opening, and flipped it quickly. He deftly stoppered the vial before he leaned closer to you. Reaching for your neck, he gently stroked the scent onto your pulse with his finger. Cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger wafted around you. 

“There. You smell like a spiced dessert wine. Utterly delectable.”

You grinned. “So you think I'm a drink?”

“The most delicious drink in all of the Sword Coast.”

“You flatterer.”

“I could go on—”

“Please don't,” you interrupted. Then you gave him a sincere smile. “But thank you for letting me spend time with you.”

He blinked, clearly unused to being thanked for such a thing. But he recovered, plastering on a smile. “My pleasure, darling.” Looking at you for a moment longer before looking at the vial in his hand, he slowly handed it to you. “Perhaps you should keep this. It suits you.”

You took the vial and cradled it close to your chest. “Thank you,” you mumbled. You weren’t expecting a gift, especially not from him.

He seemed as surprised as you. “Well, this won’t be a regular thing.” He sniffed and turned away, putting his things back inside his tent.

You took that as a cue to leave him alone, but you didn’t feel like you had been dismissed. You got the feeling that he was a bit embarrassed at having been nice for once, so you let him be.

***

You had gone around and spent a bit of time with everyone tonight, sharing small snippets of conversation, getting to know your companions a little bit better. As everyone went to sleep in their tents, you started to head towards your bedroll. You still didn’t have your own tent, and you honestly didn’t feel like you needed one. After all, if it rained, you could always stay with Astarion.

Just the thought of him made you look towards his tent. He was probably already in a trance, regaining his strength for the next day. You wondered if he had gotten enough sustenance from whatever was out in the wilds of the Underdark.

If I go ask, I’ll just be satiating my own curiosity. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.

You reminded yourself that you thought very little of his ability to care for himself not too long ago.

But I know more about him now.

Your heart clenched with anxiety. I don’t need to check on him. By the gods, I’m not his caretaker.

Despite your attempts at talking yourself out of it, you turned and walked towards his tent. You stared at the tent flap, debating for a few more moments. Just as you were about to turn around and head back to your bedroll, you heard his voice.

“Come to see me, darling?”

You sighed. No going back now. “Yes.”

“Come in.”

You entered to see him sitting on his bedroll, reading a book.

“Are you hungry?” you immediately asked. Godsdammit, me. I couldn’t ease into the conversation, could I?

He chuckled. “I’m quite alright, but I’d never turn down dessert.” Closing his book and setting it aside, he looked up at you and patted his lap. “Come sit with me, my dear.”

You blatantly ignored his lap and sat beside him instead.

He pouted so perfectly at you. “I feel like you’re teasing me.” Leaning in, he glanced down at your collarbone for a moment. “Why did you come to me tonight?”

“Just to check on you. To make sure you weren’t hungry.”

He smiled that perfectly constructed smile of his. “How sweet.” He touched your arm, and you felt nothing. Dammit, he’s doing it again. “But is that the only reason you’re here?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

His fingers traced lines up and down your arm, and you couldn’t help but lean into his shielded touch. It’d been so long since you’d had prolonged contact, and just like before, you were tempted into letting him do what he wanted because you wouldn’t have to feel any other emotions but your own. I could just be in the moment without being distracted. I could… actually enjoy myself.

Trapped in your own desires, you let him move closer.

“I’ve seen your cute little glances, ever since we started traveling together. Your eyes are drawn to me.”

You swallowed as he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip.

“You're shy, aren't you?”

Don't give in, for fuck's sake. Although he’s not wrong. You nodded in agreement before you realized what you were doing. 

“But you want to be touched, don't you?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low purr.

You swallowed again. He scooted even closer, his hand moving up your arm to your shoulder, then slowly down your back. He pulled you close, his hand drawing circles slowly around the seal on the small of your back. 

“That's why you're really here, isn't it?” His intense stare pinned you in place, his voice like silk against your senses.

Frozen in place, you couldn’t speak as your voice died in your throat. This wasn't what you wanted. You were pretty sure this wasn’t what he wanted either, despite his attempts otherwise.

“You could lose yourself in me,” he murmured, his lips millimeters from yours.

Just one kiss… He was so close. So very, very close.

But it wouldn’t be real.

You pulled back and shook your head, denying both him and yourself, stamping down on your own desire. “No,” you finally whispered. 

He suddenly stopped and moved away from you. He looked at you, really looked at you, his head tipped slightly in confusion, his expression mildly annoyed. “Then what do you want?” 

A hug seemed a safe enough thing to ask for. You wanted physical touch. He… Well, you weren’t sure what he wanted, to be honest. But you were sure it wasn’t you, not in that way. 

You decided that if he was going to insist on something physical, you could take a hug and not feel as bad about taking advantage of him.

“Can I get a hug?” you asked in the smallest voice. 

Astarion blinked. “Just a hug?”

You nodded.

He seemed surprised. But he finally shrugged. “If that's all you want.” 

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of bergamot and brandy on his skin. He froze, his arms hovering around you as if the mere concept of a hug was foreign to him. But he gradually relaxed, and you felt his arms close around you as he held you close. His head dipped down, his nose nuzzling your ear.

You realized after a few moments that you could feel his emotions again, and that it was a mixture of relief and… safety?

You eventually let him go, not wanting to outstay your welcome, but Astarion clung to you for a few more moments before he slowly let his arms slide down. You shifted back so you could see him. His expression was softer than you had ever seen. You wondered when was the last time he gave a hug.

“Thank you,” you murmured, before pressing your forehead against his. You weren't sure when this became your manner of saying good night to him, but he closed his eyes and stayed silent.

…hungry… 

“Do you want a bite before I go?” 

He opened his eyes and stared at you. “How do you always know?”

I cheated. “Just a hunch.”

He chuckled. Dipping his head down, his lips touched your neck and lingered, not quite a kiss, but it felt just as intimate. You felt his breath against your skin as he let out a small sigh. “You really are delicious, you know,” he murmured before biting down. 

You felt his contentment past the pain of his fangs. He seemed happy. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. A small sound of pleasure escaped his throat as he gulped down two more mouthfuls of your blood before pulling away. He gently licked your wound before coming back to press his forehead against yours. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re always welcome,” you whispered back. You stayed with him for just a few moments more before you finally pulled away. He said nothing, only watched you with an enigmatic expression. You gave him one last smile as you slipped out of his tent quietly.

You walked back to your bedroll, thoughts churning through your head.

Why did he feel safe, when I rejected his advances and only took a hug?

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

Chapter 11 End notes: This chapter is a bit sillier, but that’s because I really didn’t know what to do in the Underdark, and the mushrooms provided an excellent way to introduce some levity to what will soon become a heavier storyline. And you may have noticed that Gale is observing things about our dear Hearth Witch. Will he reveal his observations? Probably not any time soon. Maybe you’ll figure it out before he does!

Tag list: @numblytemporary

[kiivg]

Ketheric redemption lets GOOOOO!! Had the same thoughts because the idea of camp grandpa is so silly to me hehehe

.Ngl, the first conscious BG3 thing I had in my mind was could I kiss him hahaha, then I found out he was evil, and thus unsaveable, and I was just so sad, rip. Genuinely so disappointed, but at least Tristan is heavy proficient in persuasion, so I could see that little soft moment where he surrenders, mwah kisses. Also the bit when he falls into the ugh brine goop pit idk, big feelings for rushing forward to save him and watching him fall anyway. Idk if that happens without his surrender? Since I persuade him as Tristan and intimidated him as a Durge.

.On a technical idea though, you'd save him from Dame Aylin, pass a few checks or something, she'd brand you a traitor, vow to destroy you when you next meet, and she'd fly off with Isobel. Ketheric, with no other option (since you've already pried the netherstone from his chest) accepts your invitation to join, or he gives you the netherstone in surrender, and you recruit him. Pretty much everyone would disapprove, maybe not Astarion (Ketheric gives an advantage on Elder Brain command/knowledge) or Lae'zel (military tactics etc etc.). Dame Aylin and Isobel aren't seen again until maybe she gets kidnapped by Lorroakan? Idk. I haven't got a clue as to an Act 3 quest for him, but I think he'd have a similar affliction to Art Cullagh, and Ketheric would pretty much be on borrowed time.

.I think if you want an angsty Ketheric bound backstory, definitely go for like a Selune cleric who knew him prior to the whole shadow-curse, and watched him slowly descend info grief and be unable to do anything to stop it. Maybe you knew his wife before she died, maybe you helped raise Isobel as a child, was at his side each night as he wept over their deaths. Maybe you loved him and let him grow without you, and begged him in his grief to stop, and maybe he just couldn't turn away from a family who was just as much yours as his. Maybe he resented you for a time, because how could you not support him in this? In his trials to regain what was stolen from him, stolen from you both, how could you not feel the agony that tore him apart night after night, how could you simply sit and watch as he lost everything he had ever loved?.

.Either way, I think Tristan would write him a song or two, and it's a tenday to Baldur's Gate, weather permitting.

[magical-girl-coral]

One of my favorites parts of going through BG3 stats is how INT vs. WIS is showcased in the game.

Both Gale and Wyll have high INT but low WIS. It's easy to tell from how both of them felt their stats going back to level one after getting the tadpole and yet that did not stop them from trying out risky maneuvers such as casting a teleportation spell and going straight into a battle against goblins respectively. They might be well read and educated but that will not stop them from acting like morons.

Astarion has equal INT and WIS which means every time he does a choice he could feel his main two brain cells fighting for dominance over the decision making only for his smooth brain to start overheating and he just ends up picking whatever seems to be the easiest choice at the time.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel have a high WIS vs low WIS. They are also both the two companions that just need someone to talk to them for them to realize that their goddesses are full of shit and they should join the opposite side without a persuasion roll or for someone to make their decision for them LARIAN-

And Karlach, bless her heart, has the lowest INT but a decent WIS. She knows what to do to cheer up her companions, has a dialogue where she can tell we all in a video game but will canonically scream if Gale makes her read a tome.

(Also, since Karlach has similar stats to Lae'zel, I wonder if it means she would have just needed a talking too before making "the big decision" of her character arc if it wasn't rushly done.)

[bluerose5]

Since I'm slowly but surely getting through the game and probably will wait til I get Astarion's full story before I write any fic, some starter thoughts on if he and Zevran met. Probably set within the context of BG3 because I feel like it's a more flexible setting to work with than DA.

Zevran still having pretty much his same background, working for an assassin's guild called the Crows. Maybe a powerful enemy of Cazador's knows not entirely of the ritual but that he believes Astarion is key to something. Puts out a contract. Most assassins aren't willing to anger the likes of Cazador or tbh they're in his pocket. Maybe there are even rumors that circulate in the shadows of his true nature. Either way, Zevran is the one that takes the contract for the same reasons as DAO. There's an ambush. Tav questions him. Tav recruits him. Astarion disapproves.

The expected sass and flirting occurs of course, but it soon turns into a situation of like recognizing like. They make it into an unsaid competition of sorts instead of taking any of it seriously, always trying to one-up the other. If any of the others complain, they both turn their words on them instead.

Zevran probably brings up their kills at first. When Astarion doesn't seem keen on opening up about what he did under Cazador, Zevran asks him about what he's done instead during his time adventuring, which he is more open to bragging about. Surprise, the two of them bond over tales of murders they've committed while the others listen in, some more disturbed than others by their flippant approach.

Yes, yes, have to bring up lockpicking! Zevran trying to show off on some tiny, little chest that's easy to pick. Meanwhile, Astarion is over here going, "Watch this." and picking every door and chest in sight. Zevran acts disgruntled but highly approves.

Likewise, any time they're in a populated area, they make a game out of it to see who can pickpocket/steal the most valuable items by the end of the trip. Tav is not amused if this ends up, on the rare occasion, alerting the guards and landing them in jail. Good thing they'd be more than happy to lead the jailbreak.

Any time they head out, both of them try to guess where the other has concealed any daggers. They switch up how many and where they keep them each time.

The first time Zevran happens to see Astarion's back —clearly he doesn't let just everyone see it or linger on it at least— rather than draw too much attention to it, Zevran probably makes light of it, says it's quite a display, and then draws attention to his own scars to make Astarion feel more at ease. Welcomes it when Astarion asks questions until they're both exchanging stories again, although their smiles are more wistful than joyous when they recount the torture they've endured at their masters' hands.

No, I'm not avoiding the obvious. Sex? Yeah, they probably had sex early on, but the instant Astarion grows distant, I could see Zevran withdrawing as well. Neither of them are stupid. Both of them are more perceptive than people give them credit for. That first time, honestly, probably felt "tainted" for both of them after the fact. They don't bring it up for a while really.

On another, similar note, the instant one of them brings up using sex or their body as a tool, all of it suddenly clicks. It's essentially the spiderman meme.

The pure frustration that comes up when the other calls them out on their bullshit because they know best when one of them is putting on airs rather than speaking his mind.

Whether Zevran lets Astarion drink from him or not, I'd say probably so. In the beginning, it happens only if there was something in it for Zevran to gain from the exchange. Later, he would be more open to it when he trusts Astarion, although he'd joke that he'd prefer it after a little charming and wooing.

I honestly could see them having a strong bond, romantic or platonic. Either one could work in my opinion. It, like any relationship, would just take a lot of work and effort on both ends. Both of them learning to simply exist with someone who understands them more than anyone else...

Seriously, think about them being comfortable around each other and getting all the hugs, cuddles, and kisses they can ask for. Need I say more?