#and a bunch of CAZADORES FOR THEM

[amorisrat]

COWBOY PARTY COWBOY PARTY

[pinacoladamatata]

so this is utterly incomprehensible but its 5 days 14 hours 16 minutes till launch and i'm losin it (also LADY JANNATH?!?)

[starsthoughtsonthings]

Now I feel the need to note some things about what I imagine the future - as in, after the game - to be like for Kori together with Astarion.

I already said it before, but they would definitely start travelling "immediately" (or a few days) after the whole thing with the brain is over, all to look everywhere for a cure for Astarion.

They'd have asked someone that's staying in the city to like "take care" of the Szarr Palace for now. Probably some of the tieflings. At that point, the palace is basically mostly just the walls - all furniture destroyed, wallpapers and carpet (and especially all these curtains blocking the windows) also burnt or otherwise ruined, obviously all these cages destroyed or something too, and they asked the person/people to not do any lasting changes like adding new wallpapers or the likes. Like, bringing in some things like idk beds and furniture and the likes is totally okay, of course, but for actually making it a proper place again? They want to do that themselves by the time they actually return, because by then they'll have decided whether to take it as their home or maybe turn the palace into something completely else. Maybe something that does good for the people, in some form.

During the search for a cure, they'll probably write back frequently (let's assume letters can somehow find them even while they're never really staying anywhere long) to check that everything is alright. And while they're at it, also write to the Underdark-vampire-place to hear how things are going with the rest of the spawn. If they come across some form of portal actually allowing for a quick visit back, they'd probably visit instead, but I'm assuming it's not as easy as to use waypoints like ingame because that would make the idea of even needing to travel kinda moot.

It probably takes a good amount of years. Perhaps a few decades or something, I'm not sure how long exactly I'd say it takes. Kori and Astarion travel around, looking everywhere for ways to make him alive and non-vampiric again. Of course they do a lot of adventures and hero-ing along the way too (and cause chaos because Astarion is still Astarion and Kori wouldn't mind going along with it every now and then if it's nothing too bad or if the people deserve it), and I imagine perhaps also come across a few more big bads to deal with, perhaps some other vampire lords or something even, too. Maybe they'd even actively seek out those other vampires eventually, to deal with those.

It's a little annoying that they can only really travel at night or when he's well-cloaked, but it's a small price for seeing all these places and at the very least keeping the hope of finding something. I like to think that, like mentioned in this post of mine, the solution in the end ends up something like "love fixes it" in some form - but don't ask me for a reasonable explanation or why it would then still take years after they get together.

Kori would refuse to take breaks more than really necessary. Even if she's exhausted or drained from whatever they did a day before, she would try to insist that they keep going, keep travelling and searching, because she very much does not want to stop for anything before they actually find a cure for him. It's a little different when Astarion is the one that should rest - and of course, when she is the one needing rest he will try to be very insistent that they don't continue. It's often a little bit of an argument between the two when this situation happens either way, and usually they do at the very least try to take it slow on a day where one of them needs rest.

During their adventures here, when he's wounded in some form, Kori doesn't hesitate to offer her blood, or depending on how bad he is doing, she'd just cut herself and hold the bleeding wound to his mouth to give him blood even when he can't take it himself. It probably happens more than once during these travels that in some form she gave too much blood and when he heals/recovers thanks to the blood he finds her happy and relieved but pale (likely still bleeding) and almost immediately passing out and then he has to care for her in return, like make sure her wound stops bleeding and bring her to rest somewhere or something. He scolds her for giving so much of her blood when she's back to consciousness again, of course, but that doesn't stop it from happening again.

Speaking of her giving blood, she would of course keep up the habit of offering him to drink from her at the very least every few days, perhaps every day. And they'd likely hunt some animals for him together, too (and I mean, she has something from it too, animals have meat too after all so it's basically food for both), and get quite efficient about that over the time of their travels.

Assuming at some point they do find a cure and it's done, they would likely re-visit a few of the places they had been to simply for the two of them to try the cuisine of the place together (visiting while looking for the cure, Kori wouldn't really choose to try many things because their money is of better use in different places and she also doesn't like the idea of being all excited over some good food when the one at her side wouldn't even be able to try it) before actually returning to the city.

Even after seeing and enjoying many different places, this is still their home, and it'll be where they will consider somewhat settling down. Adventure will still call and they'd do it, of course, and once back in the city Astarion will check in with the spawn in the Underdark more (either on his own choosing or because Kori would urge him to).

If the cure is something that can be shared, they would try to work more directly with the other spawns and try to help all - or those of them that want to - to get cured too.

They will probably make the Szarr Palace into their home. It has likely long been renamed to something better and definitely without his name in it - don't ask me for ideas about the name though (maybe sth with/about the sun or light or sth? idk) - and they'd have like one wing or floor of the palace just for themselves, and find ways to use the rest of the big palace for something for others. Maybe rooms to offer to those in need - speaking of rooms, there'd definitely be a lot of rooms for the chance that friends will visit - or like a kitchen or something that offers food to those needing it. Something. Idk what exactly.

As the place most likely didn't have it before (because why would it), they would probably either add some form of large balcony-esque area or like re-do part of the roof somewhere or something, make it so there's at least one room (or something similar) that's just always completely soaked in sunlight while it's day out. Like a room entirely with a glass roof (and wall/s entirely window too to let the sun in from there too or sth, idk) or something, although I doubt that's something existing within this world, but like, something alike that idea at least.

The ballroom would probably stay a ballroom, but the parties/balls in here would be of a different sort. There might be some "high-class" people there too, yes, but the main point is to make it things that all the people they met during their adventures can enjoy too. Definitely all of the tadpole-crew are always invited too, even when it might sometimes be pretty much obviously impossible that they can show.

I don't really picture either of them taking up "normal jobs". I know there's the common idea of Astarion doing tailor, but... I don't know. I like the idea of it and very much like the idea that he can work with clothes well, but I can't really picture it as a thing he'd take as job. Maybe they could earn enough to keep living how they like just from doing the occasional adventuring still? Idk.

During all of this, I don't think they'd have engaged or spoken much about future plans for the two of them yet. Sure, Kori had thoughts and hopes, but during their travels it was nothing she would consider bringing up because he was immortal and maybe it would be easier (for him, that is, of course) if they just never "officially" get into that kind of bond, just for the worst case that they'll never find a cure. They probably still spoke of 'forever' or 'always' often enough and sometimes that brought up the realization that there might not be a true forever since one day Kori wouldn't be there anymore - but it was usually quickly dropped in favour of some witty exchange of like banter, jokes or flirting or something.

I like to imagine, even if I can't properly figure out how to best arrange that to happen, that when he gets cured, they're at least vaguely of the same "age" somehow (yes, technically he didn't age all these years so it wouldn't really be the same age, look idk I just want to picture it this way) which actually makes it possible that they can actually "grow old together". Which Kori spoke about before in a way of "if we find a cure", but it was always more of a nice idea and nothing that felt so real and possible. Even though she prefers to not think about later and rather enjoy the time they have right now, it's a nice comfort to imagine this actually being the case now in some hundred years (because, both are elves).

Now that he's human (? elf? can I say 'now that he's elf again'? feels more right than 'now that he's human again' bc he isn't human but, uh, nevermind this is unnecessary ramble - either way what I mean is now that he isn't undead or immortal or vampire anymore) again, Kori finds herself thinking/imagining about making their bond more official again more often, too, but she doesn't bring it up because she's also happy with just being together like they are. Sometime after they settled in for a while and set up the palace how they want it to be, they probably do get engaged, likely with Astarion surprising her with a proposal. It'd be a big wedding of course, elegant and fancy and the likes too, and they'd absolutely look for a date as long as needed to make it so all of the tadpole-crew are able to attend (and other friends of course).

The topic of kids won't come up anytime soon, somehow. Kori is really good with kids and Astarion doesn't exactly hate children either, but it's simply nothing either of them imagines as directly, and as such neither brings it up either.

They probably have a bunch of (orphaned) kids they offer a home in the re-designed palace, which is almost like their version of a family.

Perhaps eventually, I could see a child just "happening" on them since they might actually simply not consider uh... does... howdoyouevencallit, protection against getting pregnant, even exist in the dnd world? that it's something to consider (add more thoughts about how as vampire he probably didn't need to think about these things and then it simply didn't come up as a thought after all this time that it would be needed now, uh I'm not good on these topics so this is all I'm saying to it), and when faced with it already being, well, "in the making", they'd probably accept it and it'd turn out to be a great thing too.

Kori would probably hate having to hold back on adventuring and doing stuff for at least some of the months (is that roughly the same time for elves? idk I'm just assuming things here), though.

I can't think of anything else to add for now. I have a lot of thoughts about them, but I didn't want to go too into detail for each of these points in this post here, so this is all that's gonna be put into this one.

[kirain]

I don't get people who say Gale just whines about Mystra all the time. Like do they not realize WHY? Do they not realize there's a perfectly understandable reason for it!?!

Yeah, I don't get it either. Every character "whines" about someone. Astarion whines about Cazador, especially during the second and third act. Lae'zel whines about pleasing Vlaakith, especially during the Crèche mission. Hell, she'll even betray you if you fail her persuasion checks. Shadowheart whines about Shar and snaps at you if you criticize her goddesses of darkness. Then, if you prove she's being used, she falls into a deep depression and still whines about Shar. Wyll whines about Mizora and she's a constant presence in his life, to the point that she'll park her abusive ass directly in your camp just to torment him. If you romance him, she sees everything. She watches you 👀. He has no privacy. I think Karlach might be the only companion who doesn't constantly whine about someone, but she does complain about her engine a lot.

But these aren't criticisms. They're absolutely, 100% justified. Astarion has every right to whine. Lae'zel has every right to whine. They all have every right to whine. I just want to emphasise the hypocrisy when it comes to how players judge Gale. Every character has a dark past looming over them, our chatty wizard included. If you get mad at him, it's only fair to keep the same energy for all the other companions, because they're in the exact same situation. They're trapped. They're victims. They're suffering. Of course it's going to be a major talking point, especially when there's a person/goddesses/devil responsible for that pain.

Honestly, I think the only people who get annoyed when Gale talks about Mystra are would-be romancers who get turned off when he doesn't immediately throw himself at their Tav's feet. Have you seen the somewhat viral video where a streamer drools over him, but goes full jealous mode when she sees him conjuring the image of Mystra in his palm? It's funny, but she acted like they were already a couple ... but at that point in the game Gale didn't even know she was interested! I'm certainly no expert, but isn't that how relationships work? It's pretty hard to find someone who doesn't have an ex, and he only talks about Mystra in a positive light before you express interest. He's insecure and he feels lost without her, but if you romance him it makes him realise how messed up their "relationship" was in the first place. It's a healing process, not a competition. He never compares you to Mystra in any way other than to say that you're better, and that's only if you ask.

Gale is also arguably the most romantic character out of the bunch, so I don't know why people get so upset. Mystra, much like Shar, Cazador, Mizora, etc., is a constant negative in Gale's life and the reason he's dying. She could remove the orb with ease but she won't, so of course he's going to "whine" about her. He feels guilty at first, then he feels used and angry, and by the end you can either convince him to become her Chosen again (which is entirely on you, though you remain his priority) or you can convince him to reject Mystra and leave the crown in the sea. The orb remains lodged in his chest, because Mystra's too petty to remove it, but it becomes completely inert. Either way, he's happy and he devotes himself entirely to you, not Mystra.

[madschiavelique]

If your request is still open and if you're comfortable with it can I ask for Halsin, Gale, Astarion, Gortash and Raphael on thier wedding night with thier fem S/O?

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ characters : halsin, gale, astarion, gortash, raphael

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : mostly fluff, implied nsfw but nothing explicit, no use of y/n, fem!reader

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 1,2k (235~ for each characters)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ author's note : love i'm so sorry this took so long but school is eating me tf out (and not in the way i'd rather it to be done)

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ halsin :

Your wedding takes place in the Grove, decorations adorning the pillars and the fountain. The fireflies waltzed gently through the air, the weather was mild, Spring had arrived and the trees were in bloom. Of course the wedding would take place during the season of love.

Halsin wears a set of traditional Druid robes, his hair loose and braided with rosemary and lavender, his brown locks seeming to be the real earth that grows them.

His bare feet dig their heels into the fresh earth as his eyes landed on you.

Your hair was loose and held in beautiful waves with little flowers set into it. You were wearing a traditional druidic dress, the shades matching Halsin's outfit perfectly.

Silvanus had more than blessed him; he felt touched by his personal grace to have you as his eternal partner.

After exchanging your vows, you were drowned in a shower of petals from various flowers, all smiling as you kissed.

Everyone was dancing and an all-you-can-eat buffet was on display. Your chairs were the ground, the rocks and the steps leading up to the grove from the fountain.

When you and Halsin escaped the festivities, you found no bridal bed of feathers and straws, but headed for the forest.

In a clearing sheltered from view, a witch's circle covered in moss and flowers awaited you.

Man or Bear, this night was set to be unforgettable for you both.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ gale :

Gale had embellished an entire room, the powers of the Weave bringing an atmosphere and aesthetic beyond imagination.

Wisteria rained down from the endless ceiling, particles of violet, blue and golden light twirled in the air, bringing smiles to every body they touched.

Gale wore superb violet robes, had on his most beautiful earrings, his beard coated with sweet, spicy-scented oils.

The guests didn't need to be many, but all Gale's acquaintances and yours were there, and that was enough for you.

When you arrived, your dress was light, silk and crystal organza mingling like flower petals to trail your steps.

Your vows were exchanged, and with a smile he kissed you to the cheers of all around.

The surrounding area was transformed into a glade, the stars shining like diamonds on a blanket of blue velvet. Fairies flitted here and there, and you and Gale were lying on a set of soft rugs, chatting about everything and nothing over bunches of grapes and other fruit.

The atmosphere was a perfect reminder of your first night, in the forest, the milky way crossing the night like a multicoloured ribbon. Just the two of you.

Just the two of you? You turned your eyes, and the guests were gone, and the surroundings had changed again. A little teleportation, and you'd found yourselves in a bed, smiling and warm-skinned.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ astarion :

If there was one point of honour Astarion was counting on, it was that your wedding took place before sunset and continued through the night until he took you to bed at sunrise.

Everything was surrounded by jewels, gold and silver at the request of Astarion, who hoped that this extravagant organisation would make the sun shine all around him and the guests.

Cazador manor had abandoned its coldness to welcome the warmth of the many guests, wine in their bellies, and laughter exploding in every corridor.

Astarion was elegantly dressed, having personally chosen the fabrics for his black, white and red attire.

The crowd fell silent as you descended the steps leading to the main hall, your dress and veil a gradation of white to red to black. If Astarion still had a heartbeat, he was sure it would have stopped in its tracks.

Your vows were exchanged as the sun crossed the horizon, and the party resumed in earnest.

The whole night was spent waltzing around, laughing as Astarion told you jokes about every guest present, and downing flutes of champagne bubbling with excitement.

When dawn came, he didn't waste a single second taking you in his arms, carrying you like a princess to the door of your quarters.

Your heart beat in unison as the sun peeked through your curtains and flooded Astarion's face in a warm caress between your thighs.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ gortash :

the event was inevitably gigantic. The whole town was to cease its day's activities, abandon its work and come to the castle to celebrate.

All the best pastry chefs and cooks had been requisitioned by his orders to offer as much variety as possible in the dishes. The event was so grand that it made you wonder whether Gortash would not take the opportunity to make this a public holiday, a day of celebration for all in honour of your union.

Of course, Gortash had paid who knows how many gold coins for the best stylists he could find to make his outfit and yours.

He smiled courteously at the guests in the throne room, always mindful of the need to forge links and do business.

But these thoughts soon faded from his mind as you entered the room, dressed all in white, the very incarnation of purity and perfection before his eyes.

Your vows were exchanged, and a thunderous applause filled the room as the bells rang outside. You both left the château, the crowd throwing rice and petals into the air as you entered your carriage.

He would have loved to let the whole castle know that night that you were his wife, but he had built a house away from everyone where you could properly consummate your love.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ raphael :

The House of Hope has never been so full of demons and guests of honour. I mean hell, the entirety of the Nines have been invited in here. You even wondered how the marble hadn't crumbled since then just by the sheer number of people here. But by some trick that has escaped you, just for this occasion, everything has been enlarged.

Raphael's wings have been covered in jewels, fine golden chains set with precious stones running around the edges of his wings, bracelets gleaming on the horns of his skull as he adorned the most elegant robes the underworld had to offer.

All the decadence of the underworld ceased for just a few moments as you descended the stairs to the main hall, Raphael's dark eyes covering your entire body.

You were wearing his colours in one of the most sumptuous outfits he had ever seen, and for this he had put all the best stylists on the case.

It was without doubt the most expensive wedding in centuries, and Raphael would probably have been furious if it hadn't been.

The vows were exchanged, and it took every ounce of the demon's strength not to rip off every bit of fabric separating your skin from his hands.

Fortunately for him, he didn't have to respect any marriage rules, certainly not in the underworld or in his own home.

It didn't take him long to kiss the back of your neck and for you to disappear in a dark cloud to the roars of joy from the guests.

[astarioffsimpmain]

Consternation

Astarion x F!Reader

Warnings: Explicit violence; gore; mentions of abuse

Synopsis: Astarion realizes that Cazador is no longer his worst fear

Author's Note: This is my first ever Astarion fic, and I have to thank the members of the Astarion fandom that I have met thus far. This fic would not exist without your encouragment. <3

It was foreign to him, this fear. This icy chill that rattled his bones struck him deep at the core and unsettled him in a way that had him desperate to both pace ceaselessly and never move again. Oh, he had felt fear. It had been his constant companion since he was taken by Cazador; often his only companion as he writhed in the dark, his eyes open but nothing behind them. 

But this… 

He watched as Karlach carried you back to the campsite. You were bloodied almost beyond recognition, your heartbeat barely reaching his sensitive ears. It was his fault. You and he had argued last night; it was petty. He had been petty. He used the words that he knew would hurt you, and you, too spent after a grueling day to see through his act, had retreated to your own tent to seek out sleep in painful solitude. But sleep had not come. He'd seen it in your eyes this morning when you emerged from your tent, squinting and glaring up at the sun as though it was your enemy, and not his. 

And when you, he, and Karlach had gone out in search of food and firewood, you had been too slow, too fatigued, and too distracted to guard yourself from the attack. Orcs. They were a vicious bunch, springing on the three of you from the thicket near the base of the mountain range where you hunted, and while he and Karlach had suffered several minor injuries before winning out, you took a blow far more damaging. One of the orcs had taken you by surprise and bludgeoned you in the side of the head with its club before gaining the upper hand and stepping down hard on your ribs. 

He'd been focused on the orc in front of him until he heard the crunch. The sound was so grotesquely familiar to him that time nearly stopped as he swiveled his head in your direction. No. You lay flat on your back, your body bent in several unnatural directions, as the orc stood over you triumphantly, raising its club to finish the job. Your head lolled to the side and your unharmed eye met his and he shuddered, his breath catching in his throat. You didn't look scared. You didn't even look angry. He knew that expression. He'd seen it on your beautiful face as the moon bathed you in ethereal glow, the night he confessed his feelings to you. The night he surrendered his mask of flippant indifference and let you see him for who… for what he truly is. You had looked at him with such- such love, that night, so much that he thought he wouldn't be able to bear it. 

But now? Now he would trade the air in his lungs and every day of freedom he had left to be there with you on that night again. He would rather surrender himself to his master than watch you die because of him, and still look at him with love. 

It wasn't even him that had managed to save you in the end. It was Karlach, who had all but rammed the orc off of the top of you before gathering you up in her arms and running back towards camp. He had stood in a useless, pitiful daze, and had your tiefling companion not been there to end the last of the orcs before saving you, he would have been quick to join you at death's door. He remained useless as he followed Karlach back to the camp where Wyll, Shadowheart and Gale rushed off in the directions of their tents to see if they had something that could help you. Lae'zel had let out a bloodthirsty cry upon seeing you, demanding the blood of whoever or whatever had attacked you. Once Karlach told her the story, she posted herself at the edge of the campground, circling to prevent any more surprises. 

Everyone was doing something. Everyone but him. All he could do was sit beside you with his cool hands running over your body, trying desperately to cool you down. Your face was marred nearly beyond recognition, and the blood from your internal wounds had begun to pool just below the surface of the skin on your abdomen, creating angry violet spots all over your soft and beautiful body; the body he had held bare against his not too long ago; the heart he promised to love as wholly and genuinely as he was capable, beating far too weakly inside your chest. Guilt twisted further inside of him. If only he was strong, like you believed he was. If only Cazador didn't haunt his every moment. If only he was truly as free as you made him feel. Perhaps if he was better, stronger, more, he wouldn't have said those things to you. He wouldn't have hurt you, and instead of a sleepless night alone, you could have been wrapped up in him.

But he was foolish; weak; less. And he let his pain seep out like a fresh wound onto you, and now you suffered for it. Up until this very moment he had been under the false illusion that being sent back to Cazador was the worst fate he could possibly endure. How many times did he have to be proven wrong by you before he would listen?! Losing you was the fear he never expected. Losing you was far worse than losing himself, and the realization of that only deepened the already gripping dread in his heart. 

"Please," he whispered softly, leaning over your unmoving form. "Please, gods, stay alive. Even if you hate me forever, please stay alive. Please." His voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek and collided with yours. His body trembled as he prayed to gods he wasn't even sure he believed in, wishing for a miracle he didn't really think could happen. What would he do without you? He always insisted that he was his own person, but… was he? Or had he just traded one master for another; the first a master of his body, and the second a master of his heart?

[ladyfogg]

Perfect Fit

Fic Summary: Since the first time you let him bite you, Astarion knew seducing you would be easy. What he didn’t anticipate were the feelings that came with it.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Drow!Monk Reader

Word Count: 11.7k

Warnings: Biting, Blood Drinking (Vampire and all that), Male Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Oral (Female Receiving), Sex, Grinding, Cuddling

A/N: I’m really glad I took my time with this one because I absolutely love how it came out. Enjoy! I don’t know if I’ll write any other Astarion fics but we’ll see.

---

Just a taste, that is all he needs.

Boars and wildlife will not suffice, not if your little troop of weirdos keeps going at the same grueling pace. Since the moment he had been snatched up and that damn tadpole shoved into his eye it has been one battle after another.

The diet Cazador forced him onto had already weakened him. And Astarion knew that if he did not do something soon, if he couldn’t keep up with the others, you will turn your back on him.

After all, why keep him around if he isn’t useful?

No, he needs to stay in your good graces. More than that, he needs you to trust him, to care for him. It’s the only way he can ensure that when his former master comes knocking, because Astarion is not naïve enough to assume he is completely free, you will be there shielding him, to knock back.

Which you are obviously capable of doing. He’s seen you fight enough times to know you have a quick temper and an even quicker right hook.

You are the defacto leader, the one who always seems to do the talking even though you’re not the most charismatic of the bunch. Yet, when you open your mouth, the others listen, take your word as law even when they don’t agree.

Astarion finds himself falling in line along with them. Then again, he has two hundred years of conditioning to contend with. He wonders what excuse the others have.

Regardless, the plan remains the same. Seduce you, get you on his side, save his spectacular, frankly tight, ass. Simple. He’s played this part more times than he can count and can do it in his trance.

Of course, none of that matters if he starves to death. The gnawing hunger deep in his belly is distracting and has been for days. He’s used to ignoring it, even in the thick of combat. But he can’t, not tonight.

Tonight, it’s bad enough to get in the way of hunting. He can’t keep up with a lame doe he stumbles across. It bolts before he is even close enough to lunge. Not good. He returns to his tent frustrated and desperate.

Red eyes scan the still camp, predatory and sharp. He told you all he would keep watch because he needed time and space to think, which is partially true. However, that was when he hoped to catch dinner.

How in the Hells can he bloody think when he’s starving?

There’s a rustling near the fire, immediately drawing his attention. His gaze falls on you while you shift, your back to him as your body rolls towards the warmth of the campfire. A breeze glides through their encampment, bringing your tantalizing scent towards him, beckoning, teasing.

Astarion takes a deep inhale, eyes closed as he unwittingly gives into his instincts. Hunting pushes them away. But with no wildlife to sate him, his feet move on their own, dragging him closer to your prone body. When he opens his eyes, his vision blocks out everything that isn’t you.

The hunger is all that matters and right now, the hunter has finally found his prey.

His steps make no noise as practice and skill take over. He’s close enough to see the subtle rise and fall of your breath, the dim firelight framing you with its eerie glow, leading him like a beacon in the never-ending dark.

Astarion takes a knee, arms out for balance and eyes closed as he moves purely on instinct. He opens his mouth, fangs dripping with saliva at the promise of a meal, a real meal…

A second later he feels you move and his eyes snap open, only to find yours staring up at him. Cold realization slams into him like a heavy maul, making him blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Shit.”

Immediately, he backs away as you quickly rise to your feet, eyes narrowed in distrust. You don’t even have a chance to speak before he launches into an explanation, trying to keep his voice hushed to avoid waking the others.

“No, no, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” he insists. “I wasn’t going to hurt you I…” He pauses, taking a breath to ground himself. The bloodlust isn’t satiated, not by a long shot but it is tempered by a furious-looking monk. “I just needed…well…blood.”

It sounds lame even to his own ears. Not his best work but, then again, he isn’t at his best.

You swear, burying your face in your hands. “Fucking unbelievable!” you exclaim in a harsh whisper. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it! We even found the boar you snacked on. And you were so quick to brush it away.”

“It’s not what you think!”

Astarion’s voice goes up and you motion for him to be quiet. A quick glance confirms the others are still fast asleep.

The next thing he knows, you’re grabbing his sleeve and tugging him away from the fire, away from the others, which is not at all what he's anticipating. He doesn’t even have a chance to register you’re touching until your hand is already gone, leaving a phantom of its warmth.

“I’m not some monster,” he persuades. “I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds, whatever I can get. I’m…I’m just too slow right now. Too weak.” He pauses, the hunger taking hold once more. “If I just had a little blood, I could fight better. Please.”

There’s a sharp pain between his eyes, the familiar trigger of the tadpole lodged in his brain. He recognizes the sensation, knows it’s you reaching out, asking, and after a moment of hesitation, he lets you in.

Unlike your companions, you’ve embraced the new connection, used it to convince others to move out of your way or do as you say. Not within the group of course. He suspects you’re too noble for that.

Astarion hasn’t had much time to practice himself. No time like the present. He needs you to see, needs you to understand that what he says is true.

The trust he is trying to build is at stake, no pun intended. You need to see that this is an anomaly, an unfortunate side effect of the intense fighting you both had to endure the last few days.

So Astarion shows you, lets you see fleeting images of what he’s hunted in the woods. But this is all still new. He does not know how it works, does not anticipate the flood of other memories, personal ones he isn’t ready to share.

A dark street, a willing mark, a soft supple body for Cazador’s dark needs. They flicker one after another, a blur of faceless victims he’s lost count of. Yet, none of them with his fangs at their throat or their blood on his lips. It becomes too much too fast.

He gathers his strength and throws up those mental blocks, the ones he’s had for decades yet seem to be crumbling in an instant. With a mental shove, he pushes you out.

While Astarion's body reels from the onslaught, you remain stoic, arms crossed as you stare at him with that intense gaze of yours. The only indication anything is amiss is a head tilt.

How? How are you already so used to these damn tadpoles? You don’t even blink, and with the shadows of the night wrapped around the both of you, he can’t read your expression even with Darkvision. But he can assume and right now, he’s sure he’s fucked up. All he needed was you to trust him and because of this insistent hunger, he’s failed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

This is not the question he expects and he blinks, taken aback. You don’t sound angry, hells it would be easier if you were. Anger he’s used to, can handle with poise. But Astarion thinks he can work with this, whatever it is.

Because it’s not pity, it’s not empathy, it’s something he does not have a name for.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no, more likely you’ll run a stake through my ribs,” he explains. “No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

Of course you can’t. Anyone who ever put their trust in him came to bloody ends. Yet, he’s seen you drop a gnoll with nothing but your fists and an insane high kick, so he feels you may be sturdier than most.

You study him closely, and Astarion does everything to appear docile and properly chastised, hunching his body to make himself smaller. There’s a beat where neither of you blink or speak. However, he catches the subtle slump of your shoulders and a sigh escapes your lips.

“I believe you,” you say. “And I do trust you.”

Astarion slowly exhales his own sigh, this one of relief. “Thank you,” he says.

Then, because he can’t help himself, because his empty stomach twists, because you’re still close enough for him to inhale your scent, he pushes his luck.

“Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” he asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice as he bats his eyelashes at you. “I only need a taste, I swear.”

He fully expects your refusal and wouldn’t blame you in the slightest. As much as this hunger is driving him to madness, he is fully prepared to slink away with his tail tucked between his legs if it means he lives to seduce you another day.

Yet the next words out of your mouth throw him off his game.

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need.”

There’s no hiding the surprise on his face. He knows you see it yet you don’t gloat or react, only smile.

“Really? I—” He clears his throat and recovers, swagger in place as comfortable as a well-worn mask molded just for him. “Of course, not one drop more. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

He motions towards your bedroll with a bow. As you brush past and turn towards the fire, your smirk is wider, as if you can tell how much excitement is building within him. Then again, with the tadpole and your uncanny ability to read people, you probably do.

The others are still silent and sleeping as you lay back on your bedroll. Astarion’s chest heaves and he licks his lips as the prospect of blood, humanoid blood, becomes all he can focus on. He’s salivating again, red eyes drawn to the smooth expanse of your neck.

At first, all he can hear is the crackling of the fire. But when he leans in, the steady beating of your heart breaks through the noises of the night. Bloody Hells, he can hear the blood rushing through your veins. It hypnotizes him, draws him forward as you roll your head to the side.

White fangs pierce dark skin, sliding clean through to find a thick, pulsing vein. Underneath the rush, he almost misses the soft gasp push past your lips.

Almost.

But he doesn’t have time to process it because the first drops of blood touch his tongue and nothing else matters. Not mind flayers, not tadpoles, not Cazador, nothing but the sweet, red liquid that is sliding down his throat carrying your scent.

Everything else before pales in comparison.

There’s no fear. When he hunts he can taste the deep fear of his prey in their final moments. But this is different. You are different.

It’s such an onslaught of emotions he can’t process them right away. It’s secondhand, like trying to grab a rapidly fading echo in a dark cave.

Astarion doesn’t anticipate it and can’t recognize half of them at first. Sensation is what he does recognize. Pain is immediate, followed by warmth leading into heat in his cheeks and stomach. So much heat. He’s been cold for two hundred years, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have body heat, to be hot.

His body naturally curls around yours, one hand sliding under your head to cradle it close. The fingers of his other hand dig into the packed soil, gripping for something solid yet finding nothing.

Your body arches into his, breasts pressed to his chest and for the briefest moment, he imagines how better this would be if he could feel your bare skin to his.

Then another splatter of blood hits the back of his throat as your heart rate increases and the thought is lost.

Instinct wins out once more and Astarion groans, sucking at the wound with renewed fervor. This is better than he could have imagined. You’re better. All robust and tantalizingly smooth, finer than the finest wine he’s ever sampled. He licks at your skin, gathering as much of the precious liquid as he can. He knows it’s supposed to be a taste, but he needs more. Wants more…

A hand on his shoulder draws him out of his stupor and a firm shove has him breaking free with an orgasmic gasp. Life now drums through his veins, yours and his comingling into a surge of energy that has his dead heart thrumming harder than he ever remembers.

“Enough,” you say, your voice gruff and small, though still commanding. He thinks for a moment you might have actually cast Command on him, until his addled brain remembers you don’t use magic.

Astarion pulls himself together, comes back into his body in a way that’s far more pleasant than it has been in the past. He’s sure he’s made a mess but when he looks down, all he sees are two small puncture wounds with the barest hint of blood. Small specks of his spit glint in the firelight.

He resists the urge to kiss them away, instead stumbling back onto his haunches to give you space.

You slowly sit up and he catches you wincing. It’s the brief flash of pain that helps him reign himself further in. You said you trusted him, let him drink from you, he will not, could not, betray that trust, the gift you’ve given him.

“Of course,” he says, voice breathless as he tries to remember how to speak. “That was amazing.” He smiles wide, feels a droplet of blood slip away from the corner of his lips as he does. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong, I feel…” The faintest hint of emotions still lingers. “…happy.”

You both sit quietly for a moment, air thick with tension and a hint of copper. Your scent is even stronger now and Astarion thinks he could track you from miles away if need be.

“I look forward to seeing you fight.”

Right, the whole reason you did this. To help him be stronger, useful. It’s those thoughts that ground him once more, snap his head out of the clouds and onto the hard forest floor.

Astarion stands while you remain right where you are, watching every move he makes. He wonders if you are waiting for him to pounce, waiting for the monster he assured you does not exist. When he speaks again, it’s the light, easy tone he’s perfected, like sliding the mask back into place.

“Shouldn’t take long so many people need killing,” he says, flippantly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating but I need something more filling.”

Nothing will escape him now. He swears he can take down a bear should he be lucky enough to find one.

He turns to leave, yet something stops him from taking the next step. When he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, the mask slips and he allows you to see the genuine gratitude he feels.

“This is a gift, you know,” he tells you. “I won't forget it.”

Not staying for a response, he turns away and stalks toward the darkness of the waiting forest. When he’s sure you can’t see him, he swipes that drop off his chin with his thumb, sucking it into his mouth to enjoy the final taste of your essence.

He is content for this to be a one-time thing, a special circumstance he is lucky enough to experience. And though he already longs for more, he enjoys the heat while he can, letting it carry him through the night as he hunts his next prey.

So imagine his surprise when you approach his tent only two days later, wounds barely visible under your collar. Astarion is readying his weapons, preparing for yet another trek through the wilds.

You’re in your vestiges, your arms free say for the thin bracers protecting your wrists. Your stance is sure and confident, eyes alight with something he hasn’t seen in them yet.

“We’re ready to head out,” you say. “Got everything?”

“Prepared and ready for the inevitable descent into violence.”

“How are you feeling?”

For anyone else the question wouldn’t be so loaded. He gathers you’re probably wondering if he’s going to try to steal another bite at some point.

“Fit as a fiddle. Your donation was much appreciated and helpful,” he says, sliding his daggers into their scabbards. “The effects are mostly worn off but such is life. I’m not weak if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not. But, if you need to, you can feed on me tonight.”

Astarion can barely contain himself, thrilled at the prospect of another surge of power, and that his seduction skills are working, though not entirely as he expected. Still, it’s an opportunity he will not squander.

“My sweet, there’s nothing I’d like more,” he purrs, stepping in close. He catches the darkening of your cheeks and lets himself smile in triumph. “I’ll come to you tonight, when you’re snuggly wrapped in your bedroll and we can have a little privacy. And this time,” he drops his voice for added effect, “I’ll make sure I’m quiet. We don’t want to disturb your rest.”

It's not lost on him that the night after his first taste you took to sleeping in a tent rather than under the stars. The added privacy had him wondering about its purpose.

Now he knows.

Taking another step closer, he drops his voice even lower, keeping the moment between you two. “Later on, when we are at rest, I will eat you right up,” he promises. “Just enough to give me strength and just enough to leave you wishing for more.”

Your breath catches in your throat and he knows right then that he has you. Even as you smirk and roll your eyes, his pleased smile never falters.

“Great line,” you say, walking backward towards Karlach and Shadowheart, who are waiting for the two of you. “Has that ever worked for you?”

“Numerous times. And trust me, you haven’t heard half my lines.”

“Is that what you do in front of the mirror now that you can’t fawn over yourself?”

“Hurtful!” he gasps in mock outrage. “Also, need I remind you, you came to me just now.”

“And you came to me the other night.”

“Fair point,” he begrudgingly admits, slinging his bow onto his back. “Although, I did ask for just a taste. If you’re wanting another nibble, that says more about you than it does about me. I’m a vampire spawn. What’s your excuse?”

By you’ve turned your back on him and though he can’t see your face, the middle finger you aim his way lets him know he’s won the argument.

The anticipation of his next feeding carries him through the day.

It’s ever-present in the back of his mind, fueling his hunger and drive. He fights harder because he knows that come nightfall, he won’t have to hunt for his meal. You’ll be there in your bedroll, ready and willing.

Astarion can’t suppress the shudder of longing every time he thinks about it.

Waiting never felt so long.

You’re moving closer to the goblin camp with every step, picking off stragglers as you find them. Shadowheart asks the corpses for information and you’re able to narrow down the location of the druid right down to which building he's in.

When you make camp, you’re only half a day’s travel to your destination. Everyone is exhausted and moody, with little talk this time over the campfire. It doesn’t bother Astarion, who felt you all were becoming far too chummy for his liking.

He waits and watches from his tent, taking note as one by one, the others peel off to their respective spaces. You’re one of the last, your eyes straying across the camp in his direction, meeting the gaze that has been transfixed on you the entire time.

As if to tease, your scent finds your way to him on the wind, making his head spin. He gives you a wink and a smirk. You smile back and quirk an eyebrow before disappearing into your tent like the others.

Astarion bides his time, waits until everyone stops rustling and the collective silence of sleep washes over the camp.

Wyll is on watch tonight, though his back is to your tent. Astarion keeps to the shadows and easily dodges him, making no sound as he slips past.

You’re fast asleep, buried in your bedroll with a blanket loosely draped over you.

Astarion feels that familiar tug low in his belly, lets his feet guide him closer. He doesn’t need the fire to see you there, peaceful, almost angelic. You changed into a looser tunic which has slid down to reveal a shoulder.

And the faded markings he left on your throat the other night.

Astarion kneels and then crawls up behind you, slow and careful. He said he wouldn’t disturb your rest and he meant it. No need to wake you when you’ve given your consent.

Besides, as sneaky as he is, Astarion wonders if you’re that light of a sleeper, considering how easily you awoke the last time. He lays behind you, gently peeling the blanket away. Your tunic slips lower when he does and at this angle, he catches just the faintest glimpse of the top of a breast.

It makes him pause, give an appreciative glance, before your neck beckons him.

The hunger urges him forward, begging, pleading with him to drink. You’re so close and warm and vulnerable. He does his best to lean over without touching you, but you automatically tense in your sleep when you feel the coolness of his body draw near.

Leaning down, he lets his lips brush your ear as he whispers, “It’s just me, darling. Go back to sleep.”

You hum and relax once more, dropping your shoulder in the process. The angle is too good and he is too famished to wait any longer.

Astarion bites down, his fangs lining up exactly where they pierced before. His mouth fits against your throat like it was made for him.

A perfect fit.

There’s no need to rush and he is able to savor the experience. This time, a sense of calm washes over him, making his eyes droop closed as the now-familiar yet no less exquisite rush of your blood fills his mouth. Deep down there’s a sense of injustice for being denied this experience for so long.

However, he wonders if it would have been the same without the anticipation and thrill of the chase. Without you in the equation. After all, you’re a powerful person, unyielding in your convictions.

Yet, here you are, offering your blood to him. Giving him power.

He keeps his fangs buried for a moment longer, holds himself there until his mouth is brimming with the taste of you.

Only then does he retract them, sucking softly on the reopened wound to drink his fill. You’re fast asleep, which means that he has to stop himself this time. You’re not aware enough to do it for him.

When he wanted to earn your trust, he did not think you would give it to him so freely. What else will you give him? What else can he get away with? Questions for another night.

Thankfully, he can force himself to stop once that welcoming heat spreads through every part of him.

Every part.

Fucking Hells he is hard as a rock.

It catches Astarion by surprise and he immediately draws away. He finds himself panting, his lips still coated in red as he glances down at himself.

Is it the act of drinking blood or the blood itself? Feeding on animals certainly never drew this reaction.

His head is spinning from bloodlust and arousal, and he feels the need to leave your tent as soon as possible. You signed up to be his meal, not to get him off.

Not yet anyway. Shame, if you were awake he could make his move. He briefly considers rousing you with honeyed words and lustful promises but he decides against it in the end.

Maybe next time.

As he cleans up the mess he’s left on your throat, licking away the remaining drops of blood, he can’t help palming himself at the same time. He’s barely able to contain a hiss at the sensitivity.

Fuck, if this is just from feeding on you, what’s going to happen when he gets to have you another way?

Astarion reluctantly withdraws, readjusting your tunic before draping your blanket back in place. Your breathing never hitches and remains steady, even when he slips out into the night.

With fresh blood pumping through his veins, his body is strong and alive. He feels so fucking alive. He barely takes a few steps before the hardness in his trousers proves too distracting, forcing him to rest against a tree.

If he turns his head, he can still see your tent through the bushes and trees. It surprises him that he wants to go back. Then again, you are the most interesting prospect around and a part of you is within him now.

Soon, a part of him will be in you, he promises himself.

Astarion unties the laces of his trousers and pulls his cock out, finally allowing the hiss he held back earlier. It throbs persistently, begging for him to do something, anything for release. He gives himself an experimental squeeze, wondering if he has the mind for this right now. But it’s too good and he’s too worked up to deny himself.

His eyes never leave your tent as he strokes his cock. Slow at first, but that quickly proves not enough and he speeds up.

Astarion has had too many lovers to count but it has been some time since he’s had to take matters into his own hands. And yes, he plans on seducing you and may even find you attractive, but this is not in the plan.

It certainly didn’t happen the other night.

Moving purely on urges, Astarion lets his head fall back against the tree trunk, and his eyes close, picturing himself back in your tent.  

If only you’d been awake, he could have pressed against you, let you feel the length of him as he drank his fill.

Would you grind back? Would you gasp? He’s more than sure that he can get you to do both. When he finally gets you where he wants you, when he finally has you writhing and moaning his name, he's not going to let you cum until you beg for it, beg for him to fill you as he drinks from that delicious throat.

With a strangled moan, he cums onto the forest floor, his knees buckling under the sudden onslaught of sensation.

Putting his full weight against the tree for support, he takes a moment to catch his breath mind, and senses hyper-aware of every rustle of leaves and gust of wind. With his lust now stated, there is an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt.

What the Hells is with all this wanting and desire? He is not allowed to want. Seducing you isn’t about desire. Neither of those emotions should be there and yet they are.

Let’s just push those way back where they belong, he thinks as he tucks himself back into his trousers.

His head is clearer now, his focus as sharp as it was the previous night. Brushing the incident off, Astarion switches into hunting mode, his grin wide enough to verge on the side of madness as he bolts into the forest, with nothing but the thought of his next kill.

Your offer of blood becomes a regular occurrence.

Not every day but often enough for Astarion to notice a significant change in himself, his power. He is faster and stronger than he has ever been. There is still the situation of becoming immensely horny when he does feed on you, but he looks on the bright side and accepts it as an unexpected bonus.

On days when your party runs into a fight, he finds himself drained but not enough to impede his hunting.

A fact he brags about one night when he stumbles back to camp, brimming with excitement and pride.

“Guess what I just did!” he exclaims, plopping beside you on the ground by the fire that seems to have your attention.

It’s your night to keep watch which means he is out of luck for his midnight snack, as he’s taken to calling you. Much to your chagrin.

You chuckle and motion towards his mouth. “Judging by the blood I’m assuming you caught a nice dinner,” you say.

Astarion impatiently wipes it away. “Not just dinner, a bear! A whole bear!”

“Gods, you drank a whole bear?”

He nods proudly, grin wide and sloppy. “Now, it wasn’t as good a vintage as Drow,” he concedes with a wink your way. “But that’s not the point. The point is, I was able to kill it all by my lonesome and nary a curl out of place.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Kind of,” he slurs.

In truth, he is euphoric, untouchable. Between proper feedings and the tadpole, Astarion feels he is the strongest vampire spawn there may have ever been. Tonight, like the first night he bit you, there is no Cazador, mind flayer, or other threat. There’s only him and the blood of the black bear that he’s taken for himself.

And you, of course.

You smile in amusement, turning your attention to the fire.

Astarion leans back on his elbows, his body wonderfully loose and relaxed for the first time in decades. He takes the time to study your profile, his delirious mind focusing for the moment. He is acutely aware that it is only the two of you, a rarity considering the size of the camp.

Between the adrenaline of the hunt and the opportunity that comes with privacy, Astarion shifts closer, not enough to touch but enough for you to know he’s done so.

“You know, darling,” he drawls. “I don’t think I’ve told you how devastatingly beautiful you look by firelight.”

You don’t respond and at first, he wonders if you heard him. When it becomes apparent you haven’t, he clears his throat and tries again.

“The way the flames reflect in your eyes is hypnotizing,” he continues. “I can get lost in them, have been lost in them ever since we met.”

Still nothing. Astarion feels you’re miles away, which his pride will not stand for, not when he feels as good as he does and is throwing you all the signals.

He sits up and waves a hand in front of your face. “Helllooo? Devilishly handsome roguish vampire here giving you compliments. The least you can do is acknowledge me.”

You blink and tear your eyes away from the flames, giving him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ignore you. I’m not very good company tonight, I’m afraid.”

Astarion shrugs and sits up, interest piqued. “That’s alright, darling. We don’t need to talk. There are plenty of other ways we can enjoy each other’s company.”

You roll your eyes as you look back at the fire with that amused smile you seem to reserve only for him. “Hey, if I could turn my brain off for the night, I’d take you up on that,” you admit.

Finally feeling like he’s getting somewhere, Astarion leans in closer. “You’re in luck because I happen to be a delectable distraction. All you have to do is say the word.” He pauses before adding. “I’m talking about sex of course. We should have sex.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what you meant.”

Astarion grins, reaching out to walk his fingers up your forearm, playfully tugging at the sleeve of your tunic. “So what are we waiting for?” he purrs. “A midnight snack is all well and good, but I wouldn’t mind sampling what else you have to offer.”

As full as he is, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in another nibble. There’s something special about your blood, enticing. When he’s this close to you it becomes all he can think about and he has to stop himself from nuzzling your throat. At least until he knows he has you.

“I want to,” you tell him, finally meeting his gaze. “I really really want to.”

“Then what’s the problem? I am ready, willing, and certainly able.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.”

Astarion frowns, confused. This has always worked before, there’s no reason for it not to work now. He doesn’t get it. You’re clearly attracted to him and he’s doing everything but presenting himself on a silver platter. By now you should be throwing yourself at his feet.

And there’s no way he’s lost his touch because that would be like saying the sky is no longer blue.

You take a deep breath and when you start to speak again, it comes out in a rush, like you’ve been holding the words in for far too long and can’t any longer.

“There is so much at stake and so many people are depending on us, on me. It’s all I think about. I can’t focus on anything else. For days it’s been one crisis after another. On top of that, everyone keeps saying that we need to get rid of the tadpoles and that we should have turned already. We rescued Halsin but he can’t do what we hoped he would and I’m just…”

You let out a noise of frustration and Astarion is back to grinning because this he can work with. This he understands.

“Aren’t monks taught to still their minds?” he teases.

“I didn’t become a monk to still my mind. I became a monk because I like punching things. It’s honestly my favorite thing to do.” You take a deep breath before falling onto your back to stare up at the stars. “But now everyone keeps looking to me for answers and I just don’t have them. Nor do I want to be the one to figure all this shit out.”

Perfect, a new angle.

Astarion leans over you, forcing you to look him in the eye. “It’s just as I feared. You need me more than I thought.” He bends his head, delighted when you instinctively present your neck. He places the gentlest of kisses to bite mark, nuzzling into your soft skin like he’s been wanting to do since he sat down. “If you need your mind on something else, let it be me. Let me touch you, taste you. Let me bring you to such unbearable peaks that you forget everything that isn’t my mouth, fingers, or cock.”

You moan softly, shuddering at the warmth of his breath. “I don’t know if you can.”

Astarion draws back, a wide smile showing off his sharp canines. “Trust me, darling, I can.” He slides a hand up to cradle your head just like he did the first night he bit you. But it’s kisses he lavishes your throat with, with the occasional scrape of his teeth.

A gentle hand on his shoulder has him pulling away.

“You seem pretty confident about that,” you say, eyes searching his.

“Because it’s true.”

He knows what you’re searching for and does everything he can to make sure his gaze speaks for him. Lust and desire, mixed with a touch of hopefulness. Disarming and endearing, exactly who he needs to be for you.

“Here is what we’re going to do,” he continues, putting all his weight on one hand so he can use the other to take yours. “Tomorrow night, once everyone is asleep, I’ll slip into your tent, and I will make it so that pretty little head of yours can focus on something else. Something much more pleasurable.”

He punctuates each word with a kiss, first to your fingers, then your bruised knuckles, and finally to your inner wrist where he can feel your pulse racing. The sound of your rushing blood makes his own body thrum with desire. His hunger returns, but not enough to distract him.

But enough to make him twitch with anticipation.

At this angle, he knows you can feel it when his cock hardens. Your eyes widen and you bite your lip to stifle another moan when he teasingly grinds down against you.

“I…” You try to speak but need to take a second to catch your breath. “I would like that very much.”

“Good.”

Astarion leans down and captures your lips in a harsh kiss. It’s meant to be quick, a tease, a way to continue the seduction and leave you wanting more but it immediately becomes something else. You match his energy perfectly, your tongue slipping past his to explore. He isn’t expecting such a hungry response after the way you seemed so controlled, fully expecting it to take time for him to get you to this level.

Apparently, you’re closer to the edge than he thought. But it’s more than that. Kissing you makes him feel…something. He just doesn’t know what in the Hells that is. It makes it difficult to pull away, to stop, and make you wait.

So he indulges, deepens the kiss by leisurely licking the inside of your mouth once you actually let him. It’s good, really good. Enough to lose himself for the moment, to cup your cheek and hold you close.

His head is spinning and in his excitement, one of his fangs nicks your bottom lip.

A drop of your blood is enough to snap him out of it. Because if he doesn’t, he’s going to ruin everything. He’ll either fuck or drain you and right now he’s not sure which.

Astarion abruptly breaks the kiss, not before his tongue at your lip to steal another drop. “Until tomorrow night,” he promises.

He leaves you there, dazed and staring after him as he casually strolls back to his tent. Leaving you wanting more, just like he planned.

And definitely not because of any other reason.

Needless to say, trancing doesn’t come easy that night. Every time he closes his eyes, all he envisions is you in the firelight, looking up at him like he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Granted, he knows he is, but that’s beside the point.

If he’s honest with himself, there may be a small, tiny part of him that feels bad for deceiving you this way. Granted, he is attracted to you and the idea of having sex sounds incredibly appealing.

So what if there is another motive? You both will come out on top in the end, metaphorically speaking. Although, the mental image of you riding him is quite good. Body rocking, breasts bouncing, wet heat enveloping his lap…

Astarion needs a distraction himself at this rate.

The next day he maintains his distance for both your sakes. For one thing, he knows being apart from your object of desire only makes the chase that more thrilling. And for another, he is dealing with a storm of emotions he is not prepared for nor interested in.

On occasion when he can’t help but slide his gaze your way, you seem thoroughly focused every time. He doesn’t catch you looking longingly his way, not even once, and finds it frankly insulting. How can you be so engrossed in what you’re doing even though you know he will be in your bed later?

Unacceptable.

When you both find yourselves set upon by cultists, Astarion is relieved. He needs a good bloodbath to pull his shit together.

His daggers get quite the workout, slicing enemies left and right.

Lost in the thrill of the kill, he forgets about the weird feelings and the way his seduction of you seems to be more complicated than he thought it would be. He forgets about his hesitations or questions.

Nothing is weird and nothing is wrong.

A familiar scent breaks through the gore that stops him in his tracks. Your scent. Your blood.

You’re bleeding.

Like a hound, his head whips in your direction. He sees you across the battlefield, knocking a man to the ground. But one hand is pressed to your side, bright red visible even at this distance.

Shit, you’re further from him than he realizes and he has to scramble over a few boulders to be able to close the distance. His sharp eyes catch movement in the trees, and before he even has a chance to grab his bow, the hidden archer takes aim.

Everything happens so fast.

The arrow fires, Astarion eyes land on you, knows you don’t see it and as he raises his hand towards you, has your name on his lips—

Your hand snaps up, catching the arrow an inch before it hits your temple. With a glare, you look up at the archer, swing around, and throw the arrow right back at him.

Astarion watches the archer fall from the branches, landing in a heap on the ground.

Dead.

You grin in Astarion’s direction, face smattered with blood and he wants nothing more than to fuck you on top of that corpse. But then you stumble and concern takes over. If you fall in battle then he’s shit out of luck and he can’t let that happen.

“Whoa now, none of that!” he scolds, rushing to your side to catch you. “Where the Hells is that cleric when we need her?”

“Did you see me catch that arrow?” you slur, grinning. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Yes, yes, it was very hot, now hold still, you’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Even better, gives you a free meal.”

It’s Astarion’s turn to roll his eyes as he helps you lean against a tree for support. “I prefer the more intimate approach we’ve established.”

Once he’s sure you’re not going to collapse, he digs through his pack for a healing potion.

“Shame to let all this blood go to waste but to each his own,” you say.

He uncorks the potion with his teeth and holds the bottle up for you to drink. It’s not until it’s empty that he allows himself to calm down. You slowly remove your hand and the two of you watch the wound start to close. Not all the way, you’ll need Shadowheart for that, but enough to stop the bleeding.

Astarion spits the cork aside and throws the empty bottle. “There, almost good as new. Maybe don’t get stabbed again.”

“There go the rest of my plans for the day.”

“Lunatic.”

Something comes over him, making him grab the back of your head and yank you into a kiss, too wrapped up in his bullshit to overthink or consider his actions. With one arm around his waist, you kiss him back and it’s sloppy and messy and everything he needs it to be.

Nothing happened. You didn’t die and you’re still able to be seduced. Good.

When you draw back, gasping for breath, he grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sucks your fingers into his mouth, one by one, swirling his tongue around the digits to gather every drop of blood he can. You’re right. It seems silly to let it go to waste.

Your pupils dilate, your breath coming through your lips in a rush as you watch, transfixed.

He doesn’t need the tadpole to know what you’re thinking, or imagining. It’s a precursor to what he plans to do to you later. But with your thighs squeezing his head as he brings you over the edge.

Astarion releases your finger with a pop and a smirk. You lean in to steal another kiss when you’re stopped by the heavy thud of Karlach’s footsteps. You just manage to pull back when she bursts through the foliage.

“You guys alright?” she asks, also splattered with blood. “We just got jumped by some assholes.”

Astarion gestures to the bodies littered at your feet. “Welcome to the fucking club.”

“Where’s Shadowheart?” you ask.

“Right here,” Shadowheart speaks up, approaching from a different direction. “One tried to run away but I took care of it. Shit, are you bleeding?”

“Not anymore, thanks to me,” Astarion says.

When you wince and stumble towards her, Shadowheart catches you. Her hand glows with radiant light as she casts a healing spell.

“Easy there, soldier!” Karlach says. “You stay put. We’ll deal with these.” She gestures to the bodies, where Astarion is already digging through the pockets.

He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to let good gold go to waste, and definitely not because you two were interrupted. Not because being close and alone with you makes his head spin. Not because he doesn’t know why he kissed you like that. And certainly not because the brief taste of blood is threatening to send him into a frenzy.

By the time the bodies are searched, Shadowheart is done with her healing and you’re able to stand up straight.

“Let’s get back and tell the others,” you say. “With these guys gone, we should be good to keep our camp for one more night. But tomorrow we have to move on.”

Astarion is starting to feel peckish and welcomes the chance to be alone. “I’ll do a little scouting to check for stragglers,” he offers, tossing you the heavy bag of coin he collected. “You know, make sure there isn’t anything lurking before dark.”

“You sure? You really shouldn’t go alone,” you say.

He’s already headed in the opposite direction and turns to face you as he walks backward. “If they hear me, they deserve to catch me. You don’t need to worry, darling. I won’t be late for our date.”

Your cheeks darken and he watches Karlach break into a wide grin while Shadowheart raises her eyebrows. He’s already gone by the time they bombard you with questions.

That moment you two just shared plays over and over in his head. With the taste of your blood still on his tongue, he gives into baser instincts.

Tonight, he will fuck you, and you’ll be so enthralled by his talents, he’ll have you eating out of his hand in no time.

Astarion’s mission turns up no more cultists. And after a brief tussle with a boar, he’s recharged and ready to seduce the pants off you.

Literally.

Night has already begun to fall when he returns to camp. At first, he doesn’t see you anywhere, but then you emerge from the brush, in a clean tunic and trousers with your freshly washed clothes under your arm.

He sneaks up behind you as you lay them out on a nearby patch of grass to dry.

“If you waited we could have had a little dip together,” he purrs, only half teasing because bathing naked with you sounds enticing right now.

“That wasn’t funny,” you glare over your shoulder, although he doesn’t sense or see any real malice on your face. “They gave me shit the whole way back.”

“I’m fairly certain they knew something has been going on. You haven’t exactly been hiding the mark.”

You tug on your collar in a vain attempt to do just that. “Still.” You turn to face him and cross your arms, a neutral stance that conveniently highlights the muscles in your arms. Not that he notices.

“Darling,” he gasps, “are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not. I just don’t like people knowing my shit.”

Astarion glances around and can see multiple pairs of eyes on you both. So rather than close the distance, he settles for eye-fucking you instead.

“Tonight, all you need to worry about is relaxing and letting me take care of you. Thoroughly. Properly. Until the only thought in that pretty little head of yours is my name.”

Even from this distance, he hears the rush of your blood and it makes him grin wider. You shake said pretty head at him, turning away under the pretense of fixing your clothes.

“So long as you bathe beforehand. Blood may be your thing, but it’s not mine.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

He’s got you flustered and can’t help laughing as you shoo him away. After a brief stop at his tent for fresh clothes and soap, he finds a secluded spot by the nearby lake and takes time to pamper himself.

This part of the seduction ritual he likes, finds comfort in. Washing away the grime and viscera from his skin and taking the time to wash his hair puts him in the proper mindset. While he can no longer see his reflection, you can and that’s all that matters. He knows his looks are unparalleled.

So he primps and preens, cleans himself thoroughly before stepping out to dry off. The full moon casts the world in an otherworldly glow and he stands for a spell, taking in the night. Less than a week ago he was scrambling for rats in the dark, trying to sate the ever gnawing hunger. Now he can stand in the sun, sample the delicious blood of a thinking creature.

What a difference a few days makes.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep inhale to steady himself, to focus. And by the time he exhales, his eyes are open and he’s ready.

Camp is still very much buzzing with activity when he returns, bare-chested with loose trousers. Your scent wafts his way, making him subconsciously turn in your direction. His eyes meet yours over the fire, and he throws you a wink. You smile and duck your head, something he never found endearing until that moment.

Just like all the other nights, he waits for the activity to die down, waits until almost everyone is asleep, before sneaking into your tent.

Except, this time you’re awake. Your back is to him as you sit, still and silent. At first, he wonders what you’re doing, until he recognizes the steady breathing that comes with your meditations.

Silently, he ties the tent closed before kneeling behind you. He sees your pointed ear twitch, knows you’re aware of his presence.

Astarion lays his hands on your shoulders and leans down to nuzzle your temple. Your body is tense. He can feel the knots even through your tunic. Carefully, he digs his thumbs into them, rubbing in circles which forces a soft moan out of you.

“You are far too tense, darling. I don’t think the meditations are working,” he says with a low chuckle, smirking at the way the skin of your neck raises with goosebumps.

You lean back against his chest, making it harder to keep massaging you. So he slides his hands down your arms to hold you instead.

Astarion isn’t one for hugging or cuddling, but this feels nice, having your weight on him like this. It only lasts a second. You lean forward once more, this time with your face in your hands. He lays a hand on your back, recognizing that you need a minute, and more than happy to give you such.

He feels slightly out of his element. Normally when he arrives for the seduction, it’s hasty and eager, with the mark throwing themselves at him. You aren’t doing that, you haven’t even turned around to face him.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you tell him, your voice muffled. “If you’re looking for something carefree and light, I’m sure you can find someone with less baggage.”

Astarion can’t help bursting into laughter. He pulls your arms down and leans around to look you in the eye. “Have we been traveling with the same companions?” he asks. “If you can find this mythical baggage-less person then I salute you because from where I’m sitting, we’re all a bunch of fucking weirdos.”

That breaks the tension in you. Laughing, you lean into him again and he savors the closeness, recognizing that it stirs that same unknown sensation within him. He kisses your neck not only to move things along but for another reason.

Yours is the first thinking-creature’s neck he’s ever sampled and the novelty is fairly potent. He’s left his mark on you, not once but several times. It’s enough to drive him to distraction. The scent of your skin causes his body to react, his mouth already salivating while his cock twitches with interest.

Astarion finds you relaxing while the time slips away, and it isn’t long before his hands are reaching for the laces of your tunic. He unties them with deliberate slowness, giving you every chance to stop him.

You don’t.

In fact, your hands join his to help, and when they are finally undone, you draw away to lift the tunic over your head.

Now you’re both shirtless and when your warm skin touches his it’s like a pleasant balm to his cold flesh. He continues lavishing your throat while his hands cup your breasts, thrilled at the way your nipples pebble under his thumbs. He kneads and tweaks, pinching until just on the edge of pain before backing off.

“Astarion?” you ask, voice already breathless and husky with desire.

“Mmm, yes?”

“If we do this, I only have one request.”

He’s not surprised at this, even anticipated as such. There’s always a request or demand of him and he will dutifully oblige. Anything to keep this going, to seal the deal.

“And what’s that, darling?”

“Stay with me after? At least, just for the night.”

That…is it?

Astarion draws away, prompting you to turn to face him. Your eyes are hooded, lips wet from being swiped by your tongue. But there is a vulnerability he has never seen before that has him answering immediately.

“I will stay,” he promises, and means it. “For tonight, I am yours and you are mine. Nothing else outside this tent exists. It’s just us.” He gently cradles your face. “Just this.”

You lean in and he captures your lips.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, meant to reassure you that your humble request will be fulfilled. But as it continues, it switches, changes into something else entirely. One of his hands drops to your trousers, yanking at the laces with the same fevered energy that’s taken over your mouths. He is suddenly filled with the urge to touch, to make you shudder and moan not for his sake, but for yours.

Astarion sees in his mind’s eye every choice, every decision you have had to make. Always for others and never for yourself. Hells, do you do anything for your own well-being?

He hasn’t seen it. And if this night with him is it, if being with him is how you want to indulge, he’s going to make damn sure he makes it worth it.

When his hand slips below your waistline, his fingers slide through the mound of curls to the petal-soft flesh waiting for him. Feeling the wetness on his fingertips makes his eyebrow raise as he breaks from your kisses.

“Already, darling? I’m flattered.”

You huff, flustered. “It’s my neck,” you mumble, prompting him to latch his mouth there once more. “It’s really sensitive.”

You gasp when his fingertips stroke through your folds, spreading your arousal with practiced ease.

Astarion has a realization. “All these nights, when you knew I was going to be paying you a visit,” he says. “Did you by any chance feel aroused?”

“Every fucking time.”

He slides a finger into you, relishing the low moan and how eagerly your body pulls him in. That explains the intense hard-ons and need to get off immediately after feeding on you. He was unknowingly drinking your arousal, which he plans to do in a very different context tonight.

You’re warm and wet, and the sound of your rushing blood is making it so difficult not to seek his—your marks. The ones he feeds from every time, the ones that never seem to fully fade even with healing magic.

Sliding his finger out, he presses firm circles around your neglected nub while his free hand reaches for your breasts again. Your chest heaves and your hips begin to rise and fall along with his ministrations. When he pushes two fingers into you, your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Astarion!” you gasp.

“That’s it, darling. Let go of everything else. Just think about me.”

In this intimate moment, he becomes acutely aware of two things: one, his name has never sounded sweeter, and two, this is going to be different for him.

Astarion doesn’t find himself slipping away like he’s done in the past. Prior, his body would go on following the script while his brain retreated elsewhere. It was a part he knew all too well and had perfected over the centuries. A moment of disgust at himself then powering through just to get it done.

Yet, it’s not happening. Tonight, he is very aware of where he is and who he is with. Somehow having you be the one to moan his name is keeping him grounded, in the moment.

And he doesn’t want to lose that.

His fingers speed up, alternating between rubbing your nub and burrowing deep into that addictive warmth he wants around his cock. You’re gasping and moaning, seemingly uncaring if anyone hears.

Let them hear, he thinks. Let them know I’m the one making our fearless leader cum.

Suddenly, this angle isn’t right. It won’t serve his needs.

Because now that he’s aware of them, aware that he needs your body, needs your little gasps and moans, he won’t stop until you’re both in a breathless, mindless heap of body and limbs.

Astarion tries to draw his hand out of your trousers but you scramble to keep it there, until he nips at your ear and says, “Shh, shh, it’s alright. We just need to get a little comfortable.” Only then do you let him pull away.

He maneuvers you onto your back and is able to fully take in the delicious image you make. Eyes glassy with desire, lips parted, breasts moving as you try to catch your breath. Without warning, he grabs your throat, not hard. Just enough to angle your head up so he can steal a few more kisses.

Then his attention falls to your trousers and he has them off your legs a second later. You’re not wearing underwear, never bothered to put them on after your bath. Hooking his hands under your knees, he spreads you wide, takes his first look at all of you, and promptly descends.

Astarion doesn’t try to put on a show or warm you up with a few practiced licks. You are more than ready for him and he finds himself starved in a completely different way.

A welcomed way.

His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks greedily, humming with satisfaction when your thighs clamp around his head. It keeps him exactly where you want him, not that he plans to leave any time soon.

This taste of you is so different from your blood yet equally addicting. Heady and sweet, invading his senses until nothing else exists but you. His tongue snakes long your seam, parts your swollen lips, and seeks the hole he teased earlier.

When he finds it, your hips shoot up and he tongue-fucks you, eyes drifting up to meet yours as he does.

You’re propped on your elbows, watching his every move. The vision you make is breathtaking and as he watches your head fall back and your arms buckle, he smirks because he is the one making you feel this way.

Astarion slides a finger into you, this time deeper than the other angle allowed. Your thighs are already quivering and the moment he crooks his finger in just the right way, your arms finally give out and you lay flat on your back.

Hands tentatively find their way into his curls but instead of pulling like he anticipates, they stroke and burrow, holding on for the sake of staying grounded, not for control.

A second finger joins the first and his mouth returns to your aching nub, sucking as greedily as he wants. You’re shaking and moaning, your hips starting to grind against his face the longer he goes on. With the tadpole, he can sense you’re still holding back, still not entirely lost yet. He tries to get you there, increases the pressure of his mouth, and rubs harder against the special place inside you he’s found.

With every twitch, he feels you let go a little more. And when you’re almost there, he switches tactics. For the second time, he reaches for your mind, tries to show you images. This time of yourself, of what he is seeing right then and there.

A beautiful, wanton, deity of a person whom he worships. At least for right now, in this moment. One whose legs fit perfectly over his shoulders and whose shining eyes have him transfixed.

But then what happens next fundamentally changes Astarion and turns his world upside down.

Because, now he isn’t seeing you. He is watching a pale elf with glowing red eyes whose mouth is devouring your slit. Whose cheeks are ruddy with fresh boar’s blood and whose white curls are wrapped around dark fingers.

Astarion is seeing himself for the first time in two hundred years.

And bloody hell he’s magnificent. Not just because he’s beautiful but because he can feel what you’re feeling when you look at him. He can sense the warmth, affection, lust, and fierce protection you’re experiencing here and now, with him.

He’s already achieved his goal. Now he can move on to more important things.

He draws an orgasm out of you only minutes later, not needing you to beg. Not when you’ve given him yet another precious gift.

What a breathtaking sight the two of you make. You, bowing your back into a beautiful arch, and him, sucking greedily at your clit while his fingers stroke deep inside you.

Astarion comes up for air only when your sweaty legs glide off his shoulders, leaving you spread and satisfied.

“How’s that mind of yours now?” he asks, licking your slick off his lips.

It takes a moment for you to answer. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding,” you gasp, a hand pressed to your forehead as you try to collect yourself.

Astarion smirks and pushes himself up onto his knees, carefully slipping his fingers out of you. He can feel your walls clench, automatically trying to keep him there. He’s tempted but has a better idea.

“I told you, I’m quite good.”

While you lay there, watching, waiting, he makes a show of unlacing his trousers. By now his cock is desperate for attention, straining against the fabric. Each move he makes is purposeful, each look calculated, letting you know exactly what he plans to do next.

He thinks of the previous nights when he crawled into your tent and slid up behind you. And once his trousers are gone and his cock is free, full and leaking at the tip, he nods his head.

“Turn on your side, darling.”

He strokes himself while you do, using your arousal to make the glide of his hand easier, better. He lets every lustful thought invade his senses, lets his eyes shamelessly rake over your body as he realizes this is a fantasy he will get to live out.

Astarion knows this night is about you, should be about you, but he can’t help but feel that it’s now also about him. About having something, even if it’s for a night, that gets to be his.

He spoons up behind you, tucking his cock snug under your backside. His hand comes around and slides between your legs once more, picking up right where he left off. You gasp at the sensitivity, your body tensing for only a second until you manage to relax again.

This time with the added bonus of you rocking against him.

Time loses all meaning. He can not be certain how long you both lay this way, grinding and moving together while his fingers make you cum for a second time. It takes longer but absolutely worth every moment. His mouth is permanently attached to your throat lavishing it in kisses and love bites, leaving even more marks. Not as deep as the mark. He'll only drink from you once he’s good and ready.

And when neither of you can take it anymore, when the friction of your skin isn’t enough and you’re positively soaked, he whispers into your ear.

“Lift your leg.”

You do and he takes hold of himself, coats himself in your slick again, then pushes into you with a smooth, quick, thrust.

A perfect fit.

Being inside you, having his cock enveloped by that fucking heat is better than he would have ever thought. After that, he can’t take his time, won’t until he’s emptied every last drop into you.

Your moans are constant, muffled as you bury your face into your thin pillow, your hand twisting the bedroll, reminding him of how he twisted the soil when he had his first taste of you.

Taste.

Gods does he want to taste you again, drink you as he continues pounding into your eager body. As if struck by the same thought, you reach back to slide your hand into his curls.

“Bite me,” you urge. “I need you too. I can’t…”

He hears the rest of the thought in his head.

I can’t cum again if you don’t.

Astarion bites down on the mark, having half a mind to press down on your swollen nub at the same time. You cry out this time. Loudly. Properly. Not his name yet even more beautiful, a cry of pure ecstasy.

Your blood seeps into his mouth just as a fresh wave of your slick coats his cock, and he is done for.

Thrusting wildly, still rubbing your sore clit, Astarion spills himself into you, lost in a frenzy of blood and lust. He’s aware enough to yank out his fangs but after that, it's a blur as he sucks at your throat while his cock spasms and fills you with his seed.

It's too much and coats his lap and your thighs while trickles of blood dribble down your neck. He’s aware of you pushing his hand away from the overstimulation. So he grabs your hip for leverage during his final, weak thrusts. Spent, you both cry out a final time and then grow still.

Eventually, you roll onto your stomach while Astarion collapses onto your back, crushing you against the bedroll.

You don’t seem to mind in the slightest, letting him lazily lick away any remnants of blood. Only then do you hum with satisfaction stretching underneath him as much as the position will allow.

“Fuck, Astarion.”

“That you did, love. That. You. Did.” Each word is punctuated by a kiss or a nibble.

“You were right,” you purr, sounding infinitely more relaxed than he’s ever heard. “I needed that.”

He places a final kiss to the mark before rolling onto his back. “Mmm, me too.” He tucks his hand under his head, staring up at the canvas of the tent with a lazy, satisfied grin. Like a cat who’s just found a sunbeam.

You roll to face him, draping yourself across his chest in a graceless heap. Your face is glowing with post-coital bliss, eyes still shining as they take him in. You reach up to wipe away a spot of blood from the corner of his lips, which he sucks off your thumb.

Astarion is aware you both should clean up but he can’t bring it in himself to care. Your scent hangs around him, not just your blood but your arousal and release. When mixed with his own, it stirs something primal inside, a sense of claim he’s not sure he has a right to feel.

But he’s far too satisfied to question it.

“That was amazing,” you slur. Already your eyes are drooping and your breathing evens out.

Astarion draws you close, feels around for a blanket he manages to drape over you both. “You’re amazing,” he responds, and is surprised he means it.

Even he is ready to trance, the normal rush of adrenaline after feeding is gone, channeled into the thrusting of his hips during those last precious seconds before utter bliss.

For once, no thoughts or machinations enter his mind. Unless it’s your soft body atop his, he has no interest, lazily stroking your back until you fall asleep.

And as he lets his trance carry him away, he has one final thought, an observation his waking mind will remember vividly the next morning when he finds you in the same position, curled around each other even in sleep.

Having you in his arms seems to be another perfect fit.

---

Taglist: @frankie-mercury @miniminx

[wufflesvetinari]

ok fine, wyllstarion rec list

the demons bade me write this. i have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings and a fabulous bookmarks list. come with me....and you'll be.......in a world of pure wyllstarion nation

note that this is like. an intermediate/advanced, 201-level list. i am trusting you, and assume you've already read asidian's body of work. you've read nothing is safe. you're reading Nothing Like the Sun &etc. Really anything that appears on the first two pages when sorting by bookmarks/kudos is disqualified due to pre-recognized excellence. (you could, however, go read them again)

are you back? good. now read:

"We Happy Few" - @geometea. listen to me. listen. i am looking deeply into your eyes. read this fucking fic. it's hard to shill without spoiling anything, BUT: wyll is a still-pacted grand duke. he used to have a bunch of unresolved romantic tension with astarion and now hasn't spoken to him for 15 years. now take that premise and add body horror, beautiful ominous surreal images, and SURPRISE BIG EMOTIONS. just trust me on this one, guys

"Crossed Blades" - @rebelontherocks. this is a...i think i have to call this a cozy sex romp. wyll and astarion are married, wyll is a busy duke, astarion needs more enrichment, astarion invents a very silly sex game by roleplaying teenage-wyll's smut books. wyll is So Deeply Into It. i love this fic for its characterization, its banter, and its commitment to paralleling character psychology to what sounds like an absolutely wild in-universe smut series (that is sketched with an impressive amount of detail and care tbh??).

"Comfort" - @acephalouscreature. short and sweet. wyll is injured and everyone expects astarion to take care of him. luckily, astarion has a dastardly plan to fake feelings for wyll by thinking about his feelings for wyll. you sure fooled them, astarion!! also featuring: astarion trying to figure out how to comfort someone by thinking about horses

"False Compare" - @jellyfishline. i'd recommend checking out their work generally, but i fell in love with this one first. wyll writes a sonnet! astarion is mean about it until he isn't! deeply in-character with an emphasis on how each of them communicates affection. gorgeous prose

"how to escape the torment nexus" - @ushauz. this series is incredibly unique, set in a fucked-up bad end where wyll is a lemure, astarion is still on the run from cazador, and almost everyone else is dead. where this really shines imo is wyll's POV: he's been through literal hell, doesn't remember his life, and is wading through his unconscious attachment to astarion like a foreign language. (side note also read Heart of Stone for a great lae'zel character piece)

"An Acorn in the Moonlight" - @anonyhex. this is one of the first wyllstarion fics i ever read and it has a special place in my heart!! it's particularly cathartic to read for Wyll reasons, including him actually getting to Have Emotions about what Ulder put him through. and they are so sweet with each other!!

"temporal displacement" - @purplecatghostposts. ok this came out like. yesterday but listen, i LOVE outsider pov of an astarion who's learned to show affection somewhat, seen from the eyes of someone who doesn't know his history and has no reason to suspect All Of That. and when that "outsider" is a dying 20-year-old wyll who just saw astarion step out of a time portal. well.

"nothing to make a song about" - @grey-wardens. for when you want something meaty and casefic-adjacent, set in a post-canon where wyll is the blade and not the duke (for once). contains bonding on the road, getting romantically snowed in together, and Symbolic Fetch-Quests.

i am also watching closely: "One of Those Prince-Types" by @lesbianralzarek and "sigh no more" by @tomorrowsrain. both are one chapter in and promise to be meaty, with execution that already feels very very promising

SPECIAL MENTION TO "Like Death (or Birth)" by The_Dancing_Walrus, which has some fraught implied background wyllstarion and is just generally completely baller. astarion kind-of sort-of accidentally adopts yenna, who got fucked up by her time as a potential sacrifice to bhaal. it works! i promise it works

EDIT 1/12/25: now with part 2!

[y-rhywbeth2]

Still poking around the dialogue and have discovered that Dalyria has indeed chosen that coping mechanism of living far, far away in delulu land, pretending that they're a genuine found family rather than a bunch of kidnapped abuse victims trapped together in a torture chamber like rats:

Dalyria, to Astarion: "I can't believe you'd turn on us - on your own family." - Astarion: "Listen to me, damn it! I'm trying to save you, even if you're too stupid to see it" Roll (Charisma, Persuasion) vs 18 Dalyria: "You... you really think the master would kill us?"

Yes??

Petras also gets in on it:

Pale Petras: "The master has always been... strict. But we're better for it."

...hmmm. If you say so.

And then there's this:

Pale Petras: "You believe this? You believe that most self-centred, arrogant, egotistical one of us all is here to save the day?" Pale Petras: "When has Astarion ever done anything that isn't in his own self-interest?" Astarion: "I admit, I wasn't the best brother to you, so let me make it up to you. Let me save you." Pale Petras: "No, you were a piece of shit. And you're still a piece of shit. Let's go. We don't need to listen to this."

I do believe that the conflict between Astarion and the other spawn wasn't one-sided and the other spawn probably aren't innocent victims of the antagonism (Petras in particular is an ass) but... Astarion, what did you do to piss Petras off so badly? That sounds personal.

It could very well be "what did Cazador make it seem like you did to isolate you" but to be honest it could very well be a mixture of the two. I can imagine that the other spawn would be forced to share in Astarion's punishments, at least sometimes, even when they weren't part of his behaviour. Seems like a good way to make them turn on him whenever he defied Cazador. I can also easily imagine Astarion lashing out at the other spawn, if he got the opportunity.

[thatfreshi]

Little Stars and Such (Astarion x Reader)

It's here, the piercing fic, in which body-modded Tav gives Astarion hella piercings. I made a previous post with his piercing map in case you guys don't know the terms (I basically didn't until yesterday)

Tw - needles, implied sex

Recommended Song: Gregg's Woods - Alec Holowka

For the past couple of days, Astarion has been asking quite a few questions about your piercings. You had adorned your nose and face in tiny pieces of metal, all done by hand. Your little collection has grown over time, most recently with an eyebrow piercing once you settled down in Baldur's Gate once again.

"Do they hurt?"

"Like, when you pierce them? Yeah. You get used to it though. Surprised you don't have any honestly, elves are known for having the most elaborate piercings."

He stays silent for a moment, and you realize he wouldn't know that.

"Wasn't exactly a thing Cazador just let us do. Body modifications were mostly limited to demonic scars and being cut up for fun."

"Right... sorry."

"Don't be."

The conversation ended pretty abruptly, but picked up the next day while you were swapping out your nose ring.

"Do you ever get scared that your little ring will get caught on something and rip out of your nose?"

A sudden question, but a welcome one.

"I mean, sometimes, but not many people are that close to my nose. Unless you're planning on ripping out my piercing?"

You eye him suspiciously and he smirks.

"Oh, I would never."

This goes on for days, little prodding questions about all your accessories. One morning, while the two of you are lying in bed, you catch him staring at the helix on your ear.

"Astarion do you... do you want a piercing? Because I can do them. I mean I did these to myself."

"I've been thinking about it. I'm just a little nervous is all."

"Why my love?"

"I mean, I've never really had the freedom to do what I want with my body, in a lot of ways. That's one of those things I never got to explore, all the body modifications people are oh so familiar with. I suppose I could've done one with an embroidery needle if I was desperate, but that's just not something I had the liberty to think about."

You move a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"Well, you have the freedom to do whatever you want now."

"Then perhaps I'd like a couple."

"A couple? You don't wanna start with one?"

"Nonsense! One would be sad and pathetic, and we know I am a man of extravagance."

"Alright, if you insist."

You then grab a notebook sitting on the bedside table, and begin to draw out a plan for his piercings. Astarion insists that he only wants them on his ears, because he doesn't want anything to ruin his perfect face. As you're sketching, you continue to talk.

"You know this is gonna suck, right? Since your ears are so sensitive?"

"Sensitive? What makes you say that."

You blankly stare at him until he gives up.

"Okay fine, but I'm sure it can't be that bad!"

"I don't know. I mean I'm going to stab multiple holes through your ears. You barely like them being touched."

"I've been through enough pain. Nothing compares to jagged cuts in your back, I promise."

There are many moments like that, where he says something tragic that you just can't bring yourself to argue with. Without another word, he curls up against you, and the two of you discuss the options he has. Eventually, you settle on five on each side, because he INSISTED they be symmetrical.

"Tav, what kind of idiot would I look like if I had one ear with a bunch of shit on it, and one just, empty?"

"I guess you're not wrong."

He decides on two helixes, two lobe piercings, and a daith. You're a little surprised that he's going all out on this, but you don't mind. Everyone has that thing that lets them feel free, the thing they finally do to show the world 'I'm my own person.' Besides, if he didn't like them he could simply let them heal back up, forget this ever happened.

You go to grab your little makeshift piercing kit, full of fine needles you've collected over time, just in case you ever lose some.

"Now, you'll have to wear some of mine since you don't have your own earrings yet, but I'm sure you won't mind because my collection is amazing."

He sits up in bed, his shirt sleeve softly draping off his shoulder. If he could still be in the sun, you'd imagine a beam of light coming through the window right now, illuminating his face. You sit beside him, gently placing the box of needles by your feet.

"Alright, I'm gonna walk you through this as I do it, and if you want to stop at any time we can."

"Thank you my love."

The thought crosses your mind, that he'd probably not let any other soul on the planet do this kind of thing. Any time he's let someone else have control over his body, it's been riddled with sin and scars. But you? You've always been kind, soft, present. That's one thing he loves most about you, that he feels like he can be present. Not drifting off somewhere else, not closing off his mind to defend himself, not playing a chess match in his head. It's, easy. Life is easy now, and isn't that something wonderful?

"Alright, we're gonna start on the lobe. You feel the needle?"

You hold it lightly against his ear, and he shivers a little.

"Mhm."

"Alright, don't tense, but it's gonna hurt."

You hear the air escape through his teeth as the needle goes through. A pretty clean job if you do say so yourself.

"Well?"

You put in a dangling gold moon, waiting to see how he feels.

"Painful, but not horrible."

"Want to go again?'

"Of course."

He says it a little suggestively, and you give him a playful push.

"Save it for later imp."

You continue with his piercings, taking small breaks in between for conversation. You've continued adorning his ears with astral-themed jewelry, little stars and such. By the time you've finished the last one, you're quite pleased with your work. Astarion almost doesn't let you put the last earring in since he's so excited to see what you've done. He had Gale teach him mirror image a while ago, so he could finally see his reflection whenever he wanted. After casting it and giving his ears a look, he smiles.

Astarion laughs at your comment, giving one of those genuine smiles you used to rarely see. You silently curse the people that took that smile from him, wondering how anyone could see this specimen and torment him. He's like a pixie, a little trickster, someone you could pick up and hold forever. You know you're probably the only one who sees him that way, the only one who would call him cute, but he is. He enjoys it, being viewed as something that isn't devious or sexual, but a bright presence. You told him once how it's ironic that he can't be in the sun, because he was probably sunnier than the sun itself. He'd never let you tell anyone else that though.

"I... I think I quite like them."

"I do too. It's fitting."

You plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Worth the pain?"

"Most things are my love. Like you."

His hand meets your face, taking you into a deep kiss. When you break away, you whisper in his ear.

"I think they make you sexier too."

A chuckle under his breath, lips meeting again, and the morning is soon wasted away in bed. What a joy, to wake up every day with him, with someone living their life anew. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Neither of you know, but it's exciting none-the-less.

[deer-with-a-stick]

Idk if the people complaining about the BG3 endings are D&D players or not but like...this does feel like the ending of a campaign y'know. Sacrifices are made, people are stubborn and time is short so sometimes you have to choose between npcs who could have worked together but won't, and the thing with character arcs.

If you finished them, the companions' arcs are complete emotionally I think (except for Karlach rip, although I hope Larian does make up for it. Late-addition I guess :/). Lae'zel breaks free of her indoctrination, Shadowheart discovers who she is and now has the choice to decide who she can be, Astarion's learned enough things about himself that he's almost a completely different character by the end of it, Gale's gotten over Mystra and over his constant need to be better and stronger (this is all assuming the "Good Endings"), Wyll's broken his pact with Mizora and it makes sense for his character to keep trying to help people, whether that's by becoming the Blade of Avernus or otherwise.

Life goes on after the campaign ends. Characters move on, and for characters like the BG3 ones, where it ended at level 12, it makes sense that they wouldn't settle down in a place to chill and have a fairytale ending. They have the last tiny part of their stories to complete.

I think the reason it funnels a little right at the big moment (where it ends up being "Choose Orpheus or the Emperor," and "Choose who to become the illithid or let Gale explode") is because for these big last boss fights, there tends to have to be a sacrifice. I know there might be some bugs or whatnot, or people wanted more knowledge about what was going to happen to everyone else, but this is still a roleplaying game? Should I remind you that in BG3, you are, in fact, roleplaying as Tav/Origin Character?

That's the reason why you learn more about what a companion does after defeating the Netherbrain if you play as them and why if you play as Tav, you don't know what comes next.

For the few D&D campaigns I've played, at the end of it, it's always just been the players deciding individually what happens to the characters. Sometimes, they've died. Sometimes, they've continued adventuring and end up making appearances in the next campaigns, and sometimes they just had their fairytale ending. (From what I've seen the ending is quite a bit bugged and once Larian fixes that it'll probably please a bunch of people. My thoughts are incredibly disjointed right now but hjkrhlakjsdfh)

Those open-ended endings are good, I think. Lae'zel's always been a fighter, regardless of whether it was because of Vlaakith or not. She's always been steadfast in her beliefs and will stop at nearly nothing to make sure she accomplishes what she's set her mind to. She's got a code of honor, even if that code might skew towards "evil," so it makes complete sense that she would want to return to the Astral Plane to stop Vlaakith. What becomes of her and her mission, we don't know, because Tav, in that moment, is not in the Astral Plane with Lae'zel.

Shadowheart's arc was about reclaiming herself, so to speak. And that's hard when you've been brainwashed by a goddess for the majority of your life. Ironically, the whole theme of "Loss" is always prevalent, whether it's because she serves Shar or because she's let her parents go. Unlike Lae'zel, her purpose now is something vague: live your life. She doesn't know what exactly to do, so she heads off by herself. She doesn't know where she's going exactly, and so therefore Tav wouldn't either.

Astarion's ending pissed people off, and I do kind of wish that if you kept Gale's True Resurrection scroll, you could cure him, but it makes sense I suppose. If you kept him from becoming Vampire Ascendent, it signifies that he's finally free of Cazador and that he's finally free of his near all-consuming quest for power. The ability to walk in the sun is a power, and when he burns after the tadpoles die, it's because he's given up that power earlier, but is a better person because of that. I believe that if you do an Astarion Origin ending, it turns out that he heads to the Underdark to lead the vampire spawn because he's taking responsibility. He's becoming a leader where Cazador had been a tyrant

For Gale, his entire storyline is just him walking on a knife's edge. He's somewhere between desperately trying to live and trying to find some convenient time to die, between loving Mystra and hating her, between wanting more power and being content with what he has. The end (find the crown, give it to mystra) is a fitting ending I think. I honestly don't think Mystra's a very good goddess to hold the attention of, but he realizes that a) he's got a little obsessive and b) he doesn't need more power and that he'll be content just to be Gale Dekarios. So it makes sense for him to quite literally just settle down somewhere. He doesn't have the urge to make himself stronger and better constantly, and he won't end up killing all of Waterdeep. He's free to live at home, do wizard things, and have Tara yell at him for poor life choices.

And Wyll's Blade of Avernus ending makes sense (even if he didn't sell his soul to Mizora forever: I think you can get this ending if you save his father anyway). He's got his hero complex. His daddy issues aren't so much a problem and the pact is gone (you can break the pact and then hurry to the prison I believe), but he's going to keep fighting, keep being a hero. If Karlach's dying, he's definitely the kind of person to jump at the chance to help her, even if that means going to Avernus. Besides, he can keep killing demons and devils there.

I will agree that its a bit annoying (because again, I definitely think that Act 1 is the most thought-through and polished piece, and there are bugs abound in Act 2 and 3) but seeing Larian's response so far (we've got Patch 1 and 2 confirmed already, with the possibility of a DLC not off the table), people who were disappointed should still have hope.

Just be warned that the perfect fairy tale ending probably isn't possible, but your companions will still be happy. This isn't new: take LOTR for example. Faramir's father and brother are still dead, but at the end of everything, he'll still be happy. He'll have some more action when he cleans out Minas Ithil, but in the end, despite everything he's lost, he'll be happy. Frodo is heavily scarred by his experience, and perhaps it's not the best ending per say, by the end of the day, people and life move on, and we know that Frodo will be happy in Valinor.

(This is unfiltered rambling I'll probably edit or delete this later)

(This is also probably because I love the bittersweet endings, although I understand that most people probably hate them)

[nathscalet]

ASTARION X F!READER

My friend was pestering my about a smut between Astarion and my reader from my fanfic so here I guess.

After slaying Cazador Astarion was feeling some type of way, and you seeing that arrogant smile of him fade and his vulnerable side for the first time also got you feeling some type of way.

Warning: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You kissed the vampire, if he wants a night of pleasure. You will give it to him.

The kiss had a strong metallic taste, the cold skin giving you goosebumps.

It was like licking a popsicle of very dry wine.

The white chocolate (Astarion - white chicks reference) trembled, biting your lip lightly

You gave in. Hugging him by the neck, pulling him closer. The albino gave a slight smile, enjoying the touch, wanting to tease you a bit.

He pulled away, taking your chin in his hand, admiring its reflection in you, the thirst, the slightly reddened lips. All those agonizing nights, where he touched himself, imagining this moment, how you would take it, would you be a good or a bad girl.

You saw the vampire's eyes lose their shine, looking at you with a frightening intensity. He wants you. Here and now.

'In the cemetery? Dirty slut.' You thought

“Honey, you look absolutely delicious today, those eyes of yours floating between prey and predator, make me question if I want to be devoured or devour you.”

“And what do you want?” You could do either, let him possess you or make him scream your name.

The albino thought, looking into space, pulling you in for another kiss. “Can I be greedy and have both?”

“Do you think you can handle it, honey?”

“A death by snusnu? Well, I can tell you that’s not the way I thought I’d go, but I always hoped” He made you lie down on the cemetery floor

“Not here. I don’t want to catch any disease or have the dead see this.”

“They’d definitely enjoy the show.”

“I wouldn’t want to wake up from my deep sleep with people fornicating in my house.” You grabbed the albino by the thighs and stood up with him on your shoulders.

Astarion quickly hugged your head to balance himself, watching as you walked too slow into

a open hotel.

You put him on the ground to talk to the receptionist. (Bad move) those sneaky hands found a way under your shirt, squeezing your breast.

“Astarion a moment please.” You were blushing so hard and making Astarion tremble in absolute horniness

“Darling I need you now.” He kissed your neck

‘And here I thought he only liked men’ 🤡 you thought “fine but don’t touch me like that when I’m talking t-“ he pecked your lips

“Enough my sweet.” He pushed you into the hotel

“A room please.” He said in the deepest voice you ever heard him.

“A moment sir.”

“Now.” He looked ready to kill someone “ do you know who I am? You better find a room in 2 minutes.”

“Ast-“ he sushed you, squeezing your ass. “I talk my treasure.”

Well after a little more than 2 min the receptionist came with the rooms key. “H-here.”

Astarion threw a bunch of golden coins unceremoniously “don’t bother me till tomorrow morning.”

Astarion lifted you like a bride and barged into the room.

Astarion spread her legs like a treasure chest, sliding his fingertips under her.

Her words died as he licked her pussy covered by the fabric of her panties.

“Darling, you smell absolutely divine.” Astarion’s member was stiff in his pants.

He hurriedly took off your panties, placing your thighs on his shoulder, thighs that were the size of his head. Pulling them up, he went down to meet your fleshy lips. You moaned, his cold tongue was exploring your gelatinous and warm walls with mastery. This was enemy territory, what experience he has in sex you don't have in two lifetimes. You closed your eyes, feeling his teeth passing dangerously under your skin, and that mouth devouring your flower like a starving man, and he really was nothing more than a man desperate to taste your nectar. Your legs closed around his head, but that didn't even bother you, I would say it was an incentive for him to suck you with more desire, being able to lay his head on a pillow of flesh. Your climax was bubbling, your bladder burning, and your legs trembling. Astarion didn't seem to need to breathe, with his nose on your clitoris, his tongue going up and down, making you even wetter.

“Astarion!” You called

“In my mouth, darling. Come undone in me.”

Astarion took off his pants and underwear all at once, his member was throbbing, slightly purple, begging for attention. When Astarion touched his member, he let out a hsss, he was hard as a rock, slowly expelling what would be his climax.

You looked at the albino's member, it was modest, but thick, without any hair, just like the rest of his body.

“Don't be shy, darling, I'm all yours.”

‘Show off (I don’t know the world translation of someone very easy, maybe hoe?) But you were already crawling towards him with a hungry expression, biting his ear.

Uuhrgl!

You continued to bite, watching him struggle, kissing his cheek and licking his neck. Your hand went down to his member, gripping it with equal intensity.

“Aaa.” He threw his head back.

You began to move your hand up and down on his cock, agile as an eagle.

“Shit.” Astarion was in tears, watching with blurred vision as his member was abused mercilessly, while he was pampered with kisses on the neck.

“This way I’m going to explode in your hand, dear.”

His eyes widened as he looked at you, making him lose the strength in his legs, leaning over you. “Hot. Ugh.”

The thermal shock was overstimulating Astarion.

You pulled the vampire in for another kiss, distracting yourself from the entrance that felt like a block of ice.

Astarion was panting, with his pupils dilated, looking at you with the greatest tenderness you thought possible from the bat.

Astarion knelt down, straightening his posture, shaking on shaking (sorry, I’m embarrassed), moving his hips, he gasped as your walls tightened.

Looking at your entire naked body, he could see every scar, the one in the middle of your chest, on your arms, on your stomach, small irregular white marks, with a slight relief. In his eyes, you were the most adorable child to walk this earth, even with the difference in height and sweet features, you carried a strength within you, the way you carried your steps, shook your neck in disapproval, the touch affectionate and at the same time deadly. “Strangle me.” He asked. You blinked twice, thinking you had heard wrong, but the way his ears were lowered, looking like a puppy. “Strangle you?” You stroked his folds. “Y-Yes.” His hip was burning. Your hands closed under the albino’s jugular, his regular breathing being cut off. Your body began to tremble, the lack of air going to his member, which was beating like a heart inside you. The expression of pure stasis, drool running down his thin lips, his body sweaty, as he slid his cock in and out.

Like the sizzle of champagne, the oxygen running out, the internal pressure, the bubbling of blood, the anxiety, Astarion violently undid himself inside you. You let go of his throat, surprised.

The sensation of being electrocuted was how he would describe the orgasm now. The first breath after the shock, relieving the lungs, relaxing the limbs.

He lay down on top of you like a cat, breathing in the scent of your neck. Your hands scratched the vampire's back, until they reached his beautiful silver curls. He closed his eyes, feeling the security of being able to sleep in your arms, the caress luring him to sleep.

"You're going to make me sleep like this." He kissed your shoulder, shaking his head.

"Aww the little bat is sleepy." You made an annoying little voice to tease him.

He rolled his eyes. He took your hands and put them in a surrender position. “Careful darling, a bat bites, even in dreams. And you are particularly close, or I would say with one inside you.” He moved his hips.

“Y-you” You arched your back.

“You promised me a night of passion.” He licked one of your nipples, his fangs making you shiver. “Don’t make me fall asleep in the middle, darling.”

“…well, if that’s the case.” Astarion blinked and found himself lying on his back on the bed, with what looked like a tigress on top of him. “Let’s see how much your pelvis can take it.”

He gave you a mischievous smile. “Please, Captain, make me an example of your diligence.”

You were heavy. That’s what he thought. For someone your size, even with your muscles, you were heavy.

The metal skeleton has its drawbacks, but thank God it was your ass hitting his balls.

You watched the albino bite his lips in tension.

Let’s just say that Astarion enjoyed that night too much.

He took your hand, automatically putting it back on his head. “Don’t stop.”

“Hmm, I’m sorry, your majesty.” He stole a kiss from you. “Perfect. There’s nothing I love more than stealing the words from your mouth.”

“You lie that doesn’t even feel.”

“Maybe your blood comes first, and being able to dance on that monster coffin, haha! But kissing you could definitely be my new hobby.”

[yennefer-of-vengerbergs]

Astarion & Syanna (26/???)

I’ve been toying around with a headcanon for these two getting married for a while now and I think I finally settled on how it happens so excuse me while I babble about them 🥰

After defeating the brain and saving Baldur’s Gate (and burning down Cazador’s palace), they agree to leave the city and travel wherever they want, adventuring and looking for a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again.

During those travels, they mostly stay at inns or make camp (using an enchanted tent so no sunlight can get through it), generally not needing to bother with anything resembling paperwork anywhere. To Syanna’s surprise, while paying to stay at an inn, she’s also asked to sign a guestbook for record keeping and, seeing as she doesn’t remember her own last name, is stumped by the request.

Astarion notices this and moves closer to her, telling her to use his last name (or makes a joke that ‘really darling, barely married and you already forget your name is Ancunin now?’). With that out of the way, it actually makes Astarion wonder, what if she was actually his wife, would she say yes if he asked? So he starts toying with the idea, wondering if he should actually ask her to marry him, then wanting to ask her, but is unsure how to go about it.

At some later point, while on the road they end up talking about how their lives would have been if the circumstances of them meeting had been different. If he hadn’t been a vampire, and she hadn’t been a Bhaalspawn. If they had been commoners. If they had been nobles. If they had different upbringings and lives. Would they have met, regardless? Would they have fallen for each other then? Would they have been betrothed and then become Lord and Lady Ancunin? It starts off as a joke conversation but grows more serious as it keeps going, until Astarion just looks at her with his signature puppy eyed look and just suddenly asks her to marry him. She’s surprised by the sudden proposal but obviously accepts, of course she accepts.

Seeing as they’re not settled down anywhere, they also don’t have a place to actually organize and plan a wedding or a party, so they end up getting married in a forest, at night (which is what this little edit is meant to illustrate, alongside the other countless screenshots I’ve taken of this little scenario), the two magical rings that you find in the Shadow cursed lands being their wedding rings, with nobody else around other than the… cleric? Priest? Who actually officiates weddings in this universe?🤔

Then, their wedding night is spent in that same forest, under moonlight, a blanket laid out, with some food for Syanna and Astarion feeding on her, then indulging in each other 👀 (of course they’re at it outdoors again, almost all their major milestones and significant sex locations are outdoors - the only time it was indoors, it was them giving Bhaal the proverbial middle finger on an improvised altar for him)

Much later, when they’ve found a way for Astarion to go out during the day again, they have some kind of vow renewal, as a way of recommitting to each other and to celebrate themselves and how despite everything they went through, they’re still together. And this time, they invite all their friends to it too.

There’s probably still a bunch of stuff to flesh out here but can you tell I just really love these two?🥹

[serenaoffaerun]

The Proust Effect

Screenshot and fiction by me, SerenaOfFaerun - please do not use for your own purposes.

Written for @bekilybi for the @bloodweavesanctuary's Fall Flash Exchange.

Prompt word: Sweaters

Relationships: Astarion/Gale (Bloodweave)

Tags: Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Domestic Fluff. Fluffity Fluff Fluff Flufferson. Established Relationship. One teensy mention of Cazador. Blink and you'll miss it. Sweet Astarion. Sweet Gale.

Words: 1.8K

Summary: Post-Netherbrain Astarion is reminiscing about times with Gale brought on by the scent in the wizard's sweater. The sweater that the vampire stole before his husband went out of town. After accepting the fact that he's going to just be sad and lonely until Gale returns, a mysterious portal appears in their kitchen...

Read it on AO3 here, or keep reading below the fold.

The Proust Effect

Sandalwood, lavender, and campfire.

Astarion breathed deeply, the purple fabric of Gale's favorite sweater bunched up around his neck and face, that scented blend filling his senses. He sighed as he gazed out of the sitting room window into the back yard. His rose bushes had finished blooming, the last of their petals littering the ground below. The handful of trees they had on their property were at their peak fall colors.

In the distance, the horizon was a swath of oranges, yellows, and reds, highlighted by the golden rays of the setting sun (which was fortunately on the other side of the tower). It reminded Astarion of a campfire. He closed his eyes and took another slow, deep breath as images flashed behind his eyes.

A campfire, surrounded by scared, tadpoled adventurers. Companions. Friends. His lover sitting next to him, hands on each others’ knees. Little moments where he’d bring Gale’s hand up to his lips to place a kiss on those battle-weary palms before holding it to the side of his chilled face. Even though he didn’t technically need breath, he’d take a deep inhale anyway, the lavender of his soap and the sandalwood that Gale used mingling together with the woody smoke and calming his nerves like his own personal aromatherapy. In those fireside evenings, fears were temporarily washed away by the wine, laughter, and love. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept them all going.

Another inhale conjured visions of fireballs thrown and enemies defeated. The side glances and smirks exchanged between lovers protecting each other on the battlefield. Checking on each other at the end of a skirmish, sweat and musk and relief filling the air as they’d embrace, grabbing stolen kisses to remind each other that they’d lived to fight another day.

Yet another memory caused his undead heart to ache. As Astarion breathed in again, he recalled sitting on a wooden bench, the same one that still sits in front of the rose bushes. He had watched Gale light the fire pit they'd built shortly after Astarion moved in. Due to his…condition…most of their outdoor time together was spent in the evenings. Putting in a fire pit barely required discussion. It was the perfect romantic addition to their yard.

They spent many nights around that campfire, but Astarion’s favorite ones involved snuggling up against each other, glasses of wine in hand, warming each other against the chill of the autumn evenings. They had bought each other the coziest of knit sweaters that first fall season. Astarion's was a deep, rich red with white embroidery around the neck, wrists, and waist, much resembling Gale's camp shirt from their adventures. Gale's sweater was a deep purple with golden stars scattered about in a streak across the front, winding around the bottom on the back. Many, many evenings in the fall and spring were spent out back wrapped in those gifts of warmth and love.

Astarion opened his eyes, still wrapped in the feel and the scent of that purple sweater that he'd snatched from Gale's wardrobe this morning. Between the fiery sunset and the smell of the sandalwood mingling with lavender and leftover campfire smoke from a week prior, the memories were so strong that he felt the ache in his chest rise into his throat. Unshed tears blurred his vision.

He missed his husband.

He missed Gale's strong, defined arms wrapped around his cold, undead chest, warming him with the force of his love alone. He missed the scratch of Gale's beard on his neck, especially over his long-worn bite scars from Cazador that Gale loved to cover up with kisses and nips and licks.

Astarion longed to hear the hums of contentment that he’d get from Gale when he let the wizard lay on his chest and snuggle. After a long day of teaching at the academy, Gale’s favorite place to be was curled up like a cat on top of Astarion on the couch, the vampire’s long, pale fingers carding through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp. If Astarion were being honest, it was his favorite place too.

Breathing in again, he curled tighter into himself and swallowed down the lump in his throat as he pictured Gale’s puppy dog eyes and charming smile. That smile was the fastest way to bring life to his dead, vampiric heart. It made Astarion feel safe. Comforted. Protected. But as his love was off at an educator's conference for a few more days, he'd have to make do with the coziness and warmth of the purple sweater.

He sighed and thought to himself, ‘Might as well get a glass of wine and settle in with a book for the evening.’ Taking one final inhale of that heartbreakingly familiar scent, Astarion stood up, smoothed the sweater out, and walked towards the kitchen.

The sound of magic fizzling in the air made his head snap towards the door. Small, glittering plumes of purple smoke came together and swirled into the shape of a portal, growing in size until a silhouette started stepping through. Thinking quickly, Astarion reached over to the kitchen counter, just steps away, and grabbed a large chopping knife. Wielding it like a dagger, something he had rarely done since the fight with the Netherbrain, he whipped back around in a fighting stance.

As the smoky magic cleared, however, the silhouette took on a very familiar frame. A human, long hair pulled back halfway in a bun, in teaching robes…

Gale froze mid-swipe as he was brushing off said robes. Looking up at the shocked face of his lover, he raised his eyebrows, sheepishly grinned, and said, “…H-hi Honey, I’m home?”

Without looking away, eyes as big as saucers, Astarion reached over and dropped the knife on the counter. “You idiot,” he breathed. “You almost gave me a heart attack! And I’m dead!!” The vampire clutched his chest dramatically, earning a hearty laugh from Gale.

“I’m so sorry, my love, I wanted to surprise you!” He opened his arms and started walking towards the kitchen. “Come here.”

As it dawned on him that Gale was actually home, mere feet from him, the lump in his throat came surging back. Tears once again welled up in his eyes as he laughed and threw his arms around his husband’s neck. Astarion held on for dear life, his emotions still raw from his scent-induced trip down memory lane. He leaned into the crook of his partner’s neck, nuzzled his nose into the brown and silver locks, and softly said “I missed you so much, darling.” It took everything he had not to let his voice break.

Gale wrapped his arms around Astarion’s back with equal ferocity, breathed in deeply, and sighed contentedly. “I missed you too, my star.”

He stood and rocked his vampire love gently from side to side for a moment before he heard a sniffle and a shaky breath. Pulling back and gently holding the sides of Astarion’s face, Gale saw the tears that streaked his cheeks. Wiping them away with his thumbs, brows knitted together, he asked, “Why the tears, my love?”

Astarion looked down, chuckled, shook his head and said, “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just an emotional sap today.” He sniffled again and fidgeted with the cuffs of the purple sweater, baggy around his slender wrists. “I had just been sitting here thinking of how much I missed you. I was remembering our…wait a minute.” His voice dropped for the last bit. He looked back up and cocked his head like a curious dog. “Why are you home? I thought your conference lasted all week!”

Gale shrugged and answered, “The presenter for the remaining lectures unfortunately had a death in the family and had to return home. While any one of us in attendance could have easily talked the others under the table with theories on educational practices, we all decided we valued some extra time off even more.” He pulled Astarion’s face in and kissed him gently before walking back over to the door to hang up his robes. “I almost forgot to go back to the inn to grab my things before rushing back here,” he added with a laugh.

Crossing his arms in front of him, Astarion leaned back against the counter, restraining himself from tackling his husband and taking him right there on the kitchen floor. Gale’s aching knees wouldn’t appreciate that, and the only thing on his mind right now was reacquainting his lover with their bed for what would have otherwise been the remainder of his time away.

He realized that Gale had looked up at him and was chuckling again. Astarion asked, “What’s so funny?”

“You’re wearing my sweater,” Gale answered as he worked at the buckles of his teaching robes.

“Like I said,” Astarion replied, “I missed you. Terribly. We haven’t been apart for longer than a day or two before and I needed to feel like you were close.”

Gale’s shoulders dropped and lip pouted slightly as he looked at his dear, sweet husband like he’d just said the most adorable thing in the world. The endearing vampire continued, “When I start to miss you, I grab this sweater and throw it on for a bit so I can breathe you in and it feels like you’re here. Besides, it keeps me warm, and I couldn’t find my sweater. You know, the red one you’d bought me at the same time. Did you send it to be laundered before you left? Why are you still laughing? What’s so funny about me wearing your sw…”

Astarion was once again at a loss for words. His slacked jaw slowly curved up into the biggest smile as he realized why his husband was so amused. After Gale hung up his robes, he turned back around, grinning so widely as he straightened his sweater. Rather, Astarion’s sweater. The deep red sweater with the white embroidery around the neck, wrists, and waist.

Chuckling and shaking his head, eyes glistening, Astarion walked towards him and said, “We are a couple of sentimental fools, aren’t we?”

Gale pulled his love in close by the waist and kissed him, deeply. Astarion let a few more thankful tears fall as he not only returned the kiss, but added an element of urgency. Their lips never left each other as they stumbled down the hall towards the comfort of their bed.

They would spend the rest of the week in that room, making love and snuggling in each others’ arms. Similarly, the arms of their sweaters would lay entangled with each other in a pile on the floor, the essences of their owners once again mingling into their own personal blend of scented comfort.

Thank you so much for reading!!

This is also baby's first AO3 post! I have a few more things to put up, but I'm waiting until I get a big project off my list so I can focus on them properly. Then, I have a SPREADSHEET full of writing prompts I've been challenged to write - all from BG3!

I plan on coming back and adding a drawing to this piece, as I intend to for MOST of my pieces. I just unfortunately ran out of time this week. Soon though!

You can follow progress of my other works and art pieces on Tumblr and on AO3 under SerenaOfFaerun.

If this fuzzy lil' comfort story made you smile, please leave a kudos (AO3), a like/reblog (Tumblr), and maybe even a comment! I hope it brought you joy 💜❤️

[lilytii]

My thoughts on Ascended vs. Non Ascended Astarion

HEAVY Spoiler Warnings ahead. If you've not completed the game, or if you do not want spoilers, do not read on!

Honestly, I was never planning on making a post like this, and generally I thought most people understood the differences between them. However, I’m seeing a bunch of people twist what both of these mean and are adamantly standing with these twisted meanings, which I feel does them both an injustice. This argument is addressing the romance with Astarion. If you’re just his ally/friend/colleague, most of this won’t matter much.

First and foremost, let me say this: If you like either of these endings, that’s great! I think they’re both tragic in their own right and indeed well written. I do not think anyone should be judged because of what they enjoy, from a fictitious game. I do not think that those who like Ascended need therapy, nor should they be shamed or judged in current relationships. I also do not believe that those who like non ascended route are weak hearted people who cannot handle a hot, evil romance. These are all personal preferences and you shouldn’t feel ashamed.

That being said, I think there are people who are misunderstanding, or refusing to accept what some of these endings mean for the character. I’m going to break things down, piece by piece and come to you with my conclusion. For this I’ll use a few different abbreviations to make things easier.

A.Astarion - Ascended Astarion

S.Astarion - Spawn Astarion

U/A- Unascended

Hopefully this will make things easier to understand and follow. Alright, let’s get into it, and apologies if this is long, this took me days to write and look over all the information I could culminate. I’ve seen many of the same points brought up over and over again, and some who argue various versions of the same argument. Instead of writing long winded responses to one response, I figure I’d write out all of my thoughts in one post and be done with it. There may be points that I miss, forget to address, and I apologize, there’s a lot of ground to cover.

First, let’s go over a few things about What we know about BG3 vampires, the Ascension ritual, and what all of this means.

I think it’s common that everyone knows BG3 is set in Faerun, which is a world setting for the game D&D. The game is running off 5E rules and guidelines, though there are many things that are changed to better suit a video game setting rather than table top. (i.e. short rests are instant, long rests are the only way time and events progress, etc.) That being said, 5e has a set of rules that exist more as guidelines. At the end of the day, everything is up to DM discretion. If the book says “ X works in X way” and the DM says “I don’t like that ruling, so I’m going to change it to work differently for my campaign,” that’s valid as long as everyone agrees and it remains consistent throughout.

That’s the beauty of this game, is everyone runs it a little differently, with their own set of understanding and rules. BG3 works the same, and as the player, you accept and acknowledge that and play to how it is. 

The Vampires seem to be mostly following the lore and rule sets, but there are a few differences here and there. Mostly, the moment you turn into a spawn/vampire, you’re inherently evil. That’s it, end of story, alignment changed. It doesn’t seem to be the case in BG3 though, as you can see some of those who were spawns and recently changed, don’t seem to be fully evil. Astarion tells us of his past and it seemed he wasn’t entirely subscribed to the sudden alignment change. (Not to say that he doesn’t have evil tendencies, he’s very morally gray.) Even Cazador and the notes you find, in his earliest moments as a spawn, seemed to hold an ounce of who he was before he became a full fledged vampire. It seems that from what we see, the corruption is a slow burn, but inevitable, and Vampire spawns seem to have their souls. How do we know they have souls?

Astarion says that he might as well sell ‘what’s left of his soul’ to a devil, than to let Cazador have him again. The Ascension doesn’t just sacrifice these 7000 bodies, they don’t seem to be just ‘animated dead’, oddly enough they have souls that when they’re sacrificed, those souls go to hell to the demon that made the pact. Mephistopheles.

Raphael tells us all about it, and states it’s a rather grim tale, even for his tastes. This ritual is so foul, so diabolical, it has never been performed. The right of profane Ascension .Astarion’s soul, would be sacrificed.  I Think, damning 7000 souls to hell in exchange for power, there’s no coming back from that. I mean, hell, Bhaal himself must be impressed, probably salivating at the amount of death and carnage in one go.

The Ascension gives Astarion a taste of power, he gets some boosts in combat, but the taint on him is already done. He was a pretty gray character before, now? Not so much. That ritual changes him deeply, and it is evident in how he presents himself and how he behaves. He is truly lost, and not a shadow of himself remains.

“He wants this, and he Approves when you let him ascend.”

Ah, Approval, the way to win the man’s heart! Yes, he approves in both scenarios, and he thanks you in both as well, however, context is Everything here.

Astarion, in that moment, is enticed by power and by the promise of safety. He acknowledges he was blinded by it, just as Cazador was. If you are romancing him, you must succeed a persuasion check that’s relatively low depending on your rating with him, and if he’s romanced.

A lot of people dismiss this and say the fact we have to talk him out of it, shows he did not want to stay a spawn and wanted to Ascend. He admits that he was blinded by his want in the moment. He may have wanted to ascend in that moment, because it promised him a life in which the world would bow to him. After all he’s been through, it’s not crazy to say that sure, he was blinded by the promise of now, not thinking of the consequences. How many times have you made an impulse decision because you wanted something now, because all you could see was the promise of a good time, without thinking of any repercussions? It’s human.

He goes on to say:

 “But you saw something else in me- Someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago. You saved me back there. I may not have appreciated it at the time, but I do now. Thank you.”

I want to point out his body language. When Astarion is being serious, when he’s lowering the walls and the barriers to who he is, his movements are small. He smiles, his eyes soften, and he makes eye contact. When he says “but I do now,” he nods, affirming that he truly understands and appreciates what you did, stopping him from ascending. And then he gives a humble bow of his head saying ‘Thank you’.

“But Astarion thanks you on both occasions for giving him everything.”

As it was stated above, context is key. Yes, When he is turning you into a vampire spawn, A. Astarion does say “You’ve given me everything I ever wanted. Thank you.” I can see the case people would make to say this is what he wanted, and so he is sincerely thankful that we gave it to him. In either case, he’s happy.

I can understand the logic, but allow me to put it into a different perspective, if I may.

A drug addict is going through withdrawl and you have the drug they want. They crave it, they’re only focused on that drug and need the high to get through another day. They don’t address their addiction, they just need to score, so plead for you to give it to them. You cave in, give them their drug and they take it. They tell you “Thank you, this is what I wanted.” Is it sincere? Sure, they are really thankful for it, but did you help them? Was this really what was good for them?

Instead, when they beg you for the drug, you tell them ‘No, this is not the life you would be proud of and I want you to be proud of yourself.” Instead, you take them to rehab, they get clean and stay sober. They’re on the path to turning their lives around and say “You know what, I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but, you helped me. You saved me from going down a horrible path. Thank you.”

That thanks, is also sincere, but the outcomes are vastly different.

A.Astarion thanks you for giving him what he wants. S.Astarion thanks you for giving him what he needs.

 Even in his graveyard scene, he says he’s not giving up, just “Reassessing what I want. What I really want.” And when you ask him later, at the graveyard what he wants, he says “you. I want you”  I emphasize ‘really’ here because he does. This is Astarion being honest and telling you what he really wants.

He does not NEED power over others, he does not NEED to ascend, he needs to believe in himself, to choose a life he can be proud of, to do what he wants without being a slave to all the power that stood before him. 

This is evident if you say “You saved yourself, I just gave you a push.” 

And he responds with:

 “You did more than that. You believed in me- believed I was enough just the way I am. When I look at my future, anything and everything feels possible now. And I get to share it with you, as a partner. An equal. You saved me from myself and let me walk a new path where I can be free. TRULY, HONESTLY, FREE. This is a gift, you know. Thank you. I won’t forget it.”

There’s so much that this speaks to, and it’s so self explanatory, but so many people overlook that to say:

“S.Astarion is weak and is still unable to walk in the sunlight. At least Ascending him he’s free.”

I’ll agree and say his ending with him running away from the sun is tragic and painful, but I think that was the point. It’s gut wrenching. The worst part is honestly, most of the companion dialogue who treat him like ‘Oh well, fuck him I guess.” That, I think we can all be on board saying he did not deserve that. Turning away from power, helping you save the world, and all the companions say is like “welp, it was nice knowing you.” That was dirty.

It feels like so many people think giving up one's soul to walk in the sun is the best decision ever and so worth it. The point of his story feels like “Power, but at what cost?” Sure, he can have all these added benefits, if he just gives away his soul, does the most horrific, dastardly thing possible, and completes the ritual. He no longer is himself, and becomes a slave to power. Power will always be something he chases, so that he will never be used again. You basically tell him he’s weak the way he is and to steal the power he is owed. 

Meanwhile in the U/A route, you tell him that he would not be proud of this life, that you want him to live a life he would be truly proud of. And he says “You’re right, I can be better than him.” But he is NOT above enjoying being the one to deal his death. We don’t even STOP him from Killing Cazador, we know he is owed that, he deserves that. 

S.Astarion says he is free to walk a new path, whatever that path is. In his graveyard scene, he says he’s been dead in the ground long enough, it’s time to start living again. S.Astarion’s story is about finding his autonomy, finding his inner strength, accepting himself and making a new path for himself. Whatever this world has to offer, he’s going to take it and have fun.

When you Ascend him, and tell him that you miss the man he was, he seems actually taken back and says:

 “What do you mean, I was pathetic back then, why would you say that?” 

He sounds hurt. He sounds like maybe the tiniest bit, he regrets losing that man, like he can’t understand why someone would love who he was before he ascended.

He hasn’t gotten the affirmation that he’s enough, in fact, he’s more affirmed that he was weak, pathetic, and that power is what will make him strong. He is perfect now because he’s powerful. That’s such a tragic way of looking at him. By choosing this, he doesn’t accept how strong and capable he is as a spawn, he doesn’t heal and regain control of his life, he’s seen as lesser, as someone who needs an outside power to be strong. Love, belief in himself, it wasn’t enough to save him.

“There is no Equality in S.Astarion xTav/Durge. You have the upper hand, he does not. You will die of old age, he will not. That’s not a good romance at all.”

This complaint is one I see a lot, a LOT on people’s videos, blogs, reddit, etc. Just because he is back to being a spawn and does not have insane vampiric powers gifted by an evil, hellish ritual, does not make you his superior. It’s the way you two treat each other, the way you two view each other, that is what makes you an equal. 

If you look at how A.Astarion talks to you, he talks down to you, looking down his nose, he believes you are beneath him. If he makes you a spawn, you are kept nicely under his thumb. 

If you keep him as a spawn, he does not look at you as if you are his ruler, his master, you are his equal, his lover, his companion. He doesn’t look down at you, but eye to eye. Just because one has different abilities and strength does not mean inequality. Just because one has a longer/shorter life span, does not mean inequality. Look at Shadowheart’s parents, one is an elf, the other, human. Does that negate their love because of their lifespan? Are they doomed and have a terrible love story?

I’m sorry, but this argument doesn’t hold water to me. 

A.Astarion fans love that they can choose to live with him in eternity, as his slave. So many people believe that is better than S. Astarion living his days freely with someone he loves, truly loves, as long as he can. I’ve seen people headcanon their Tav/Durge find a means to either cure Astarion of his Vampirism, or find ways to extend their lives. In one of my D&D games, we had collars that kept us from aging and dying prematurely. Granted, we had to agree to give up spell slots every year or so to a powerful mage so he can create magic items, but it pretty much allowed us to live forever. If Gale can ascend to godhood, I’m sure you can find a way to fix these small power issues.

“A.Astarion is the real Astarion, he goes back to his Act 1 self.”

I’ve seen this argument made to why people like A.Astarion, because they love the man he was in Act 1, and feels like this is who he is. There’s so many talking points here, so much to break down, and many arguments made to ‘affirm’ that this is the real Astarion, and this is where he is most himself. I’m going to break this down as best I can and do my best to be clear and easy to follow. There’s so much to go over and I don’t want to sound like I’m all over the place.

I gotta admit, I half agree with this. He does go back to his Act 1 self, but that's not the ‘true’ Astarion. Act 1. Astarion is the man who manipulated your feelings, who was playing an act. It isn’t until Act 2 that Astarion starts to come to terms with himself and becomes honest with you. Yes, he fell in love with you sometime between those moments, but after you ascend him, you can see that he goes back to those theatrics.  All of the progress he made, all of the growth he made, when he ascends, that’s it, it just hard stops and reverses back to the start. He regresses so hard that he loses himself and becomes a shadow of the man he was, an echo of that man who manipulated his way to get what he wants.

Astarion admits in several ways in different dialogue options that the Ascension would have changed him, it would have made him lose himself, it would have made him different.

Tav: “The ritual would have changed you, I’m glad you resisted it.

S. Astarion: So am I. Fun as all that power would have been…this feels more me.

Tav: “Do you regret turning down all that power?”

S.Astarion: “Perhaps. It would have been terrible fun. But then again, I could feel something slipping away. I came so close to losing myself-to losing everything I’d learned since meeting you.”

He speaks so much about his growth, about his development thus far and if he ascended, he’d lose it all. This speaks volumes to his character and to how he holds himself now. We see Astarion start to believe in himself, knowing his worth, and his U/A route shows that he’s starting to understand that he can do the right thing.

“Astarion says he’s not happy.”

S.Astarion “I am- well, not happy. But this feels right.”

(Graveyard scene,)

Tav: “regretting your choice?”

S.Astarion: “No, I made the right choice. Although I do regret the options I had.”

Tav: “You did the right thing, stopping the Black mass.”

S.Astarion: “I know, that doesn’t mean it stings any less”

 Tav: (when referring to never seeing the sun as the price of freedom) “Do you think you can live with that?”

S.Astarion: “I’ll have to, doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

All the arguments I’ve seen for those who prefer A.Astarion use this to say he’s not happy, that he admits that he would have had more fun if he had power, and that’s what he wanted. He’s lamenting his lack of power and the fact that he’ll belong to the shadows, for sure, but he knows and understands that the decision he made was for the best. This is honestly such a relatable, and real emotion and thought. How many times do we as flawed humans know that doing the right thing, whether it’s for our own benefit or someone else’s, isn’t always the ‘fun’ option. He’s been on a quest for power, saw an ideal in his head, and now understands that going that route wasn’t the best for him, no matter how much fun it might have been in theory.

Astarion knew he made the best choice for him, the best choice to regain control, to be himself, his true self. His options were ‘sell your soul, lose yourself to have power and walk in the sun,  or keep your soul, remain true to yourself and better your life, but be reserved to the life of a spawn, living in the shadows and with hunger.” There was no good options, but there was a good choice.  

I want you to think about who Astarion is, what he’s been telling us this whole time.In the love test, we can choose silly, fun answers to gain his approval and keep things lighthearted, but the real answers exist, and he doesn’t exactly enjoy them being shared.

Astarion is afraid of being someone’s slave, he’s afraid of being helpless and not being able to keep his freedom. This whole time, 200 years he’s been shown that there’s no heroes, gods do not care for anyone, and the strong are the only ones who survive in this world. He’s afraid, he’s terrified but puts on this air of assertion. He stands behind those who are stronger than him and rides their coat tails till he can snatch power for himself. He’s not above backstabbing and manipulation if it gets him what he wants.

Astarion plays with power, as long as it doesn’t threaten to change him. He’s fine with abusing the tadpoles powers, but the moment he realizes that greater power can be unlocked by becoming a half illithid, he wants nothing to do with it. You can peer into his mind and use his fear against him to force him to do this, but thats manipulative in it’s own right. You don’t respect him or his want at that point, all in the name and sake of power.

Astarion’s first line to us is his disgust at the thought of being turned into a mindflayer. He laughs bitterly and says “Of course it would turn me into a monster…what else did I expect?” Power is good if it offers safety and protection, but not at the risk of his own skin. This is said so much throughout and is emphasized by him saying, he knows finishing the right would have ruined him, who he was, and everything he’s learned up to this point.

However, if throughout this game, you show him that there’s strength in one’s self, that there’s power to be had deep within, he starts to understand that and starts to see that he can be the break in the chain. He can be the difference he needs, alongside you.

This power hungry Astarion is the result of 200 years of abuse and suffering. Astarion starts to understand that there’s consequences to one’s actions, he starts to take responsibility for those actions and understands the difference between running away from it, and meeting them head on.

I’d say that’s a strength in it’s own. He’s finding himself and tackling the hardest things in his life that he turned a blind eye to. A.Astarion does not get that. He doesn’t care about anyone, anything, consequences be damned.

“Tav gaslights Astarion to change himself. Tav ‘knows what’s better’ and choosing not to ascend him not only makes him weak, but shows you don’t think he’s strong enough.” Tav forces Astarion to change.

This is paraphrased from a comment from a prominent A.Astarion fan. The entire comment was such a hot take, that they said, and I quote: Cazador did not inspire him that sex is power. Cazador didn't need sex to control people, he had other power. 

I don’t know if they understand what Astartion was trying to say when he said that Cazador made Astarion use his body to lure things for him. That Cazador had full control over him and made him perform acts of sex against Astarion’s will, otherwise he’d get TORTURED. I could go ON about how disgusting the take is, but I won’t get into that. I’ll address their point and continue.

I believe I’m one of many who don’t like the option of “You don’t need to worry, I’ll protect you.” And Astarion’s own answer of “thanks, that’s sweet, but I don’t want to have to always rely on you.” (or something to that nature.) I refuse to choose it, I understand the sentiment, but that option didn’t feel good. 

Still, despite that line, Astarion doesn’t get the all power he wanted, but that doesn’t make him weak. Tav shows that Astarion is weak in the ways of inner strength, the strength to take off his chains and be himself! He has the strength to choose his own destiny and take it by the hands. So many people look at ‘physical’ strength and weigh that higher over inner strength. Astarion in game, is not a weak fighter. I can tell you, rogues are fucking CRAZY strong! In many of my battles, he’d be the last one standing and has to sometimes be the one to save others. 

Believing that there’s more to Astarion than power, revenge, and sex is NOT gaslighting him at all! Gaslighting someone is forcing another to believe that they’re wrong, despite the fact that they aren’t. It’s projecting onto them your wants and making them feel terrible for not seeing things your way.  

You can gaslight Astarion, want to know how? By forcing him to have sex with you despite him saying it’s uncomfortable for him. By saying “You should enjoy it, and enjoy it with me.” And do you know what happens when you choose that? He ends things, and stands up for himself!

We aren’t manipulating him, changing him, forcing him to be someone he isn’t. He admits to it many times over after  that we believed in him, we saved him and pulled him away from a path that would ruin him. To say that’s changing him, to say it’s gaslighting is absolutely bonkers! In fact, telling him to ascend is affirming that power is better than anything, even if it costs your soul. I don’t know why people refuse to believe that S.Astarion IS the REAL Astarion. And while he isn’t all powerful, he’s fully free to live his life the way he wants to, and intends on it.

“A.Astarion still loves us. Sure it’s not the ‘kind’ love you get with S.Astarion, but it is love and he does care for us. It’s perfect for an evil route”

This is the most common argument for what I’ve seen people saying they like A.Astarion. It’s a different kind of romance, a different kind of love that still has caring, but it isn’t ‘nice’. There’s so many different takes on this that usually accumulate to “He does care, he does love us! It’s a crazy toxic love, but it is still love.”

I get it, I totally understand why so many people are drawn to A.Astarion. The sex scene is spicy, he calls you pet names, and says “You’re mine” and things like “I’ll protect you” “Lovers forever”. At it’s core, it sounds like a crazy, possessive romance perfect for an evil Tav/Durge, especially a Bahhl accepting Durge. I can see the appeal, and really, for an evil character, ruling the world with the lord of vampires sounds amazing! Hell, even for a morally ambiguous or amoral character, this would be fun!

I know there are people who appreciate it for what it is, people who understand that they are A.Astarion’s favorite thing, they are his obedient pet who does his will. Some in their Durge games understand they are using each other, and it’s not a romantic relationship, but that of an evil companionship. “We are awful for each other and do awful things for each other!”

That being said, many people seem to be under the impression that A.Astarion truly cares about you, that he loves you.

“It’s a possessive love, but even then, that’s just a form of love.”

Look, I’ll be honest and be the first to say that a person, especially a hot vampire who calls me “MINE” with such virility, would instantly make me weak in the knees. I love me a strong lover who is a bit selfish in wanting me, there’s nothing wrong with that. I mean, who doesn’t want to feel coveted like that? (Ok, I know there are people out there who aren’t cool with that, I’m just saying for those of us who are thirsty! lol)

Still, I can’t say that this context is of that capacity. You’re his object, his favorite and obedient spawn, slave. He pretties it up and calls you consort, which makes you think some form of equal footing, that of a spouse. (Understandably, not all marriages have spouses who view their spouse as an ‘equal’. This is very much like that.) If you’re his spawn, you are surely his slave.

“He calls us Pet, my treasure, consort, lover. He stands up for us against Araj, he does indeed care for us.”

Pet names are cute, and he has used ‘pet’ for us before he ascended. The way he says “Yes my treasure?” Is very baby sweet talk, he even does the elaborate swinging of his shoulders. I don’t think Astarion’s descent to madness is immediate. I think there are still parts of him that is haunted by his trauma, but instead of being able to deal with it, he does the same things he’s always done. He disassociates, he falls back to bad patterns. 

When meeting Araj again, both S. Astarion and A. Astarion have similar dialogues between each other, but also, there are some interesting differences as well. A. Astarion makes a note of ‘Who belongs to who this time’ referring back when she thought Astarion was your subordinate, your ‘obstinate charge’ and you could stick up for him and say he is his own person. Now, he means to correct that and explain that you belong to him, not in a romantic way, but in the way that you are under his charge, you are his spawn/slave.

I get that in that conversation he says “And don’t worry, if anything happens, I’ll protect you.” Can be sweet, if you look at that completely out of context, hell I’d think it’s sweet too. He does say this in a bit of a condescending way though. It’s not the “I love you and I’ll protect you,” it’s the “This is my thing, and I’ll protect it from getting being damaged.” The care that A. Astarion has for you isn’t one of honest love, it isn’t born of concern.

You can see that because S. Astarion has a dialogue that says “Say no, the only thing she is offering is pain, and…I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

Astarion isn’t someone who knows how to express his true feelings, he’s expressed his inability to know how to truly be with someone, but he’s opening up. At this point, this is beyond his graveyard scene, so you’re seeing a man who is awkward when expressing his true feelings. Again, his body language says so much here. He gives a sigh right before saying he doesn’t want to see you hurt, he shies away from you just slightly and his expression grows softer. He’s being vulnerable and sincere, he truly does not want to see you hurt. Not because you’re an item of his that he doesn’t want damaged, but because he truly doesn’t want his lover to be hurt, that would pain him. There’s a lot of dialogue that’s similar for both, so, there’s not much to differentiate between them at that time.

Astarion’s trauma is still trauma, in both iterations. His understanding of consent seems to resonate with both versions at this point. So many people are taking that ‘consent’ is him caring. Just because he understands consent, and still asks you, that doesn’t quite mean a level of caring. Yes you can choose to be his spawn, or not. If you break up with him not as a spawn, he insults you and lets you be. Choose to be his spawn, and there is no getting out of it, you have no consent anymore. You’re his slave. Yes, he calls you his ‘consort’ because he wanted to dress up the word “spawn”. A slave is still a slave, no matter what other pretty title you want to give it. You have consent up until he turns you, then that’s out the window, you can’t leave ever. Hell, he even has a line that says “I should have turned you into a spawn, just to prove that I could.” Yeah, let that sink in.

“A.Astarion says ‘I love you, I’d never hurt you.’ He tells us he loves us on multiple occasions. Once more, he’s got a beating heart now, so he is fully capable of love.”

 =/

A beating heart, a living organ =/= love. I mean, if you break up with him he says “You brought my dead heart back to life, it will keep beating” That is metaphorical, it didn’t mean that he will be brought back to life. So no, having a living, beating heart does not make him more capable of love. He felt real love as a spawn, he sincerely fell for you.

Let’s also talk about Astarion saying “I love you.” He does say it at both routes, but the way he says it, and again, body language says it all.

I’ve seen this video going around about how he says he loves Tav/Durge, and how people claim this is love, that this is proof he cares. https://www.youtube.com/shorts/Bov4CwHLukc

Let’s talk about these, shall we?

First of all, notice how Astarion is acting here. This is back to theatrics, the wide arm movements, the flowery words and the poetic gestures. Does this look familiar? Ah yes, this looks very similar to when he used all his ‘favorite lines’ at us. Even when he says “I love you” it feels so practiced, so forced. He even looks down at you afterwards. But people are so convinced that this is romantic love. They are convinced he means this.

I am reminded back to that, force Astarion to sleep with you scene. You tell him “You seemed like you enjoyed it,” and he says he knows that song and dance better than anyone, it was an act. This? This is an act as well. But S.Astarion? Go look at the graveyard scene, go watch how he tells you he loves you.

He looks you directly in the eyes, taking your hand in his, and he’s smiling. That’s no forced smile, when does he ever smile that genuine and at peace? He looks down in thought for a moment and returns to your eyes and says “he loves ‘this’, and he wants it all, with you.” Look at those two “I love yous” side to side and tell me which one really, truly looks sincere. Which looks real.

In act 2, he says that he manipulated you into an alliance, so you’d never hurt him. He used sex to get you to love him so you won’t turn on him, but says you deserve something real, that he wants to be real with you. In his graveyard scene, he’s ready to be fully real with you. And if you do have sex with him, the dev. Notes says “Had_sex_as_equals. You are his equal, and he is yours. Whatever your powers and abilities are doesn’t matter, it’s how you treat each other, as equals.

Astarion’s first line in the video says he was offering you power, offer you to live as his spawn so he can own you, what’s that, if not love? Then says, if that’s not an offer, if you want more, perhaps this isn’t for you.

I’ve seen so many people say “A.Astarion is not for the weak hearted, his kind of love is intense, possessive and hot, not for those goody goodies! He says it himself.”

Nah, he’s telling you that love is a transaction. You gave me power, I’ll give you a bit of it. You become my spawn that will be obedient to me, who will bow to my every whim, and I’ll offer you protection. There, love. This is a man who used his body, who used everything as a transaction. If you get high approval before the party and allowed him to bite you, he offers you sex as thanks. It’s a transaction. 

A.Astarion says “I did try with you, you know. In the only way I know how.” By using a transaction of offering you life of being a spawn. 

And of course, how can we forget the famous line. “Of course I know about *love* (said with absolute disgust by the way) I know how to use it, manipulate it, and I can’t help playing the hand I know. I would have used your love, abused your trust until you were nothing.”

Every argument here says “You hurt his pride, he’s angry! He doesn’t mean that. He was upset and said a lie.” And I can say, ok, I hear you. There’s been times when people break up and say really hurtful things because they were hurt. Things they may not even mean. I’d be fully inclined to believe that if… well, if that were true. Instead, I fully, TRULY believe Astarion is being sincere with us here. I think he knows that we were smart enough to see through his BS, to see that in this state, he’s gone.

They also cut out parts where Astarion says “Oh that was completely different, I’d never hurt you, I love you.” Right after, in the same breath, he says “That’s what you’ve been waiting to hear, isn’t it?”  Like, this man is telling you what you want to hear, it’s not the truth, it’s all a lie. He’s telling you to your face “I’m telling you what you want to hear.”

 He doesn’t know what real love is, he is incapable of love, to him it’s just a game. You can tell this by the insight check you do before he turns you.

“The insight check really means that he doesn’t think highly of himself, that he values Tav/Durge’s opinion and thinks he’s not good enough to be with”

I can understand how this could be one interpretation, and I’d agree with you if this was Act 2. Astarion. I’d fully believe that’s how he thinks a continued romance would be with him, but that’s not what’s going on here.

A.Astarion thinks he’s all powerful and amazing. He’s not the weak man he was back then, he’s better. Knowing you want to be a slave to him, you’re degrading yourself to becoming his slave, his spawn, but…maybe you’re into that. Maybe you want to be his slave, to worship him and be manipulated. Hell, you’ve gone this far for him, he doesn’t seem to have to beg you, you’re willing to do what he wants.

That’s the implication here. Not that he’s not good enough for you, but that you no longer care about yourself, that you want to be stepped on by him. 

A lot of people understand this concept as “Yeah, I made him worse, and I’m willing to throw everything in the trash to be with him! He can pull me by my leash and I will follow!” And then others misunderstand it to mean “Awww my poor boy thinks he’s not good enough for us and thinks we’re degrading ourselves to be his lover.” It’s definitely the former, not the later.

But this is a Sub/Dom relationship!

At the very base core of what that is, he is dominant over you, and you are serving him. To call this a sub/dom relationship is such a disservice to those real relationships out there that exist though!

I know someone close to me, who has been in a sub/dom relationship for 10+ years. She wears a collar with her partner’s name on it and he calls her pet names. This is something they do in their private time, and after all of it, there’s so much after care and tenderness involved to remind them both that they are partners who are equal. They are in a safe place, they have real, romantic love and understand if at any time there’s something they aren’t comfortable with, they can speak up.

A.Astarion just owns you. He doesn’t care, you are his property and that’s that. That’s like calling Cazador Astarion’s lover! The man favored Astarion, and when he disobeyed, he punished him. Granted, I’ll say that Astarion and his spawn’s relationship isn’t violent yet, but I don’t think it wouldn’t get to that point. He says he doesn’t have to, you’ll be wonderfully obedient.

…but what if you aren’t? Do you really think he’ll stand there and listen? If you push back, do you think he will understand? If you speak up and speak your mind, will he just lovingly accept your words? I’m afraid not. To those who think they can ‘change’ him or ‘keep him in line’, the time for that has passed and he’s not going back. I’m sorry.

The writer who spoke up is wrong about A.Astarion and is just one writer, not even the MAIN one! Take their words with a grain of salt.

The amount of people taking the salt out of what the writer said is crazy! I saw the reddit post and people were losing their minds, saying that this writer should have never said anything, that they stole the joy out of their A. Astarion romance, and that all is doomed!

Let me just say this. The writer, other people, no one can take your agency of enjoying a game. Take it for what it is, enjoy it. If you don’t agree, that’s fine, but it does not make the writer wrong. 

The writer is one of many who worked and wrote for Astarion. Just as what happens with every character, what happens with comics, movies, games, etc. You have teams who all work on one part to make it a cohesive whole. Animators have writers, directors, lineart work, flat colors, shaders, sketchers, background artists, all of these different people work on different parts of the same product and at the end, you have a whole piece. They all have to be in sync with each other and understand the source material to make it all work here.

The writer who spoke out may have been one of many, but that does not mean their words were invalid. In fact, after taking their words into consideration and looking back at how the sex scene for A.Astarion and S.Astartion play out, I honestly sat back and thought “...wow, I actually completely understand what you mean!”

First of all, they call it a bad ending. That speaks enough to what has been said and stated over and over again. Astarion does not progress, he does not heal, he gives up his soul for power, losing himself, and becomes a slave to it. Secondly, they said that you failed to see him as anything more than a kink, and reduce your relationship to that. That explains his actions, the way he is back to manipulating you with pretty words of adoration. And so many people are literally falling for it all over again.

In the scene he makes you a spawn, it’s overly provocative (I’ll admit, it’s fucking hot! I mean, from an objective view at least. Knowing what I know, it’s sad, but taking out context and what I know, it’s a very sexy scene) it’s meant to be. This is what you wanted, this is what you think of him. The camera mod that allows you to see different angles is a GODSEND here! You can look into his eyes and they are devoid of life, of feeling. He’s going through the motions, but he’s not even there. He’s not looking at you, he’s looking away, his body is performing, and Tav/Durge is just moaning and enjoying themselves. You wanted this, you got it, and in the end, he delivers.

Vs. the graveyard. It’s so much more chaste since you have clothes on. He’s not biting you, but this is his most honest form. It’s pure love, this isn’t lust, this isn’t him ‘fucking’ you, but being one with you. He’s reclaiming what sex means to him. It’s not a means to an end, it’s not an exchange, it’s not forced, he wants to give you a night of passion because he loves you. This is him connecting sex to love, and not as an act of manipulation.

Again, the camera mod is everything!! He looks into your eyes, his features are genuine. He cups the side of your cheek and kisses you. Then, he pushes you down, and climbs over you, looking into your eyes before sinking into the kiss in a much deeper, passionate way. 

I admit, I’m a degenerate. I can accept that Astarion is hot! I thought his turning scene was erotic, steamy, and I just couldn’t stop watching it. But knowing what I know, I can understand how, if what you’re looking for is real love, a real romantic relationship, that’s not the way to go. I think the camera angles of his graveyard scene show so much more to how passionate and hot that kiss is! Once I understood that this was Astarion, truly himself, taking back sex for himself and pushing Tav/Durge down in that swoop of a kiss, I completely did a 180 and preferred that! 

That kiss is HOT! And it means so much more, which makes it all the more intense. This is Astarion, throwing down his walls, opening up to us, body, soul and heart. And seeing as the dev notes says they had sex, it leaves it to your imagination how that went down, but I am one to believe, it was incredible, earth shatteringly so.

Final thoughts

If you made it this far, Oh my GOD I’m so sorry! Honestly, I appreciate it and thank you all for the time and patience to read my ramblings. I’ve just been sitting here replying to so many others and said “Fuck it, I’ll make a post about my feelings.”

There’s so much I haven’t touched on, so many points that can still be made, and I’m sure I missed over some other parts. Because I’m a maladaptive daydreamer, these thoughts literally assaulted me every chance they got! I couldn’t cook, clean, or even shower without another full stream of ideas that invaded my brain. I had to stop now because I’ve been working on this for 4 days and if I kept going, this would be 30+ pages long and NO ONE wants that.

That being said, look, if you like Ascended, go for it! If you want your character to be degraded and live in that fantasy, that’s ok and you shouldn’t be shamed for it. You shouldn’t be bullied by anyone to think you’re real life relationships are awful, or that you need therapy. Please, have fun and remember to take some time away from it all every now and then.

If you like Spawn, that’s great too! You shouldn’t be made to feel like you’re weak, or you only think Astarion is some good boy. You shouldn’t be told that you’re gaslighting, or anything else that I’ve seen out there.

At the end of the day, these are games, escapism from reality. I encourage you all to write, or maybe play the character in a game, or do what you want to do as long as it brings joy to you.

The point of this post is not to shame anyone or to cause drama. The point of this was to show that the writers did an AMAZING job illustrating these character’s stories. They showed us how gray and lifelike they were, they made their flaws something relatable, but also showed us that there’s always two very different ways things can go.

I wanted to highlight the differences in Astarion’s endings.  In his Ascended ending, he loses himself for the price of power. He fails to see that there’s more to himself than what power can give him. He fails to heal from his trauma, and instead, masks it behind power and control. He continues the cycle of abuse and becomes an entirely new monster. He fails to experience a true, romantic love that he never had and instead returns to using ‘love’ as a form of manipulation. He is deluding himself into what he thinks is happiness, and one day, will have nothing left inside of him. It’s so tragic and yet painfully, beautifully written.

In his spawn ending, he gets healing, he gets to choose his own way through life and live it being free. I wanted to show that while power was enticing, he learns that he’s enough the way he is, even if he won’t have the power of profane ascension (no matter how much terrible fun it would have been). And hey, if you want to play him in a solo campaign (that’s what I’m doing) and find ways for him to gain power without losing who he is, I’m sure that would be awesome! To see Astarion grow, and continue to take responsibility, to see him take back his sexuality, his honor, his autonomy is beautiful, even if it means he had to let go of the thing he thought he wanted, to take hold of the thing he truly wants.

[steampoweredstrawberry]

The thing I love about the Tadpole Gang is how their responses to their abusers are different, but the game acknowledges that escaping and healing from abuse isn't one size fits all.

You have someone like Shadowheart, who is escaping not just Shar, but all of her followers. People she considered her family. She's forced to go no contact with all of them because it's the only way she can heal.

Meanwhile, we have Wyll being actively manipulated by Mizora. It's not safe for him to go no contact at that point. All he can do is bide his time, prepare, and wait for an opportunity to escape.

Karlach has been in survival mode for so long that now that she's out, she needs a moment to feel alive. She needs to be indulgent and a bit impulsive and prioritize her own enjoyment because she hasn't gotten to throughout her abuse. She's also trying to no-contact Zariel to the best of her abilities.

Lae'zel needs to stand strong against Vlaakith. She knows her people may not stand with her in the moment, and she can't cut them all out because she's a champion for them against the abuse they're actively suffering as well. She needs to see Vlaakith punished to the full extent the Githyanki are capable of.

But then there's Gale. He can't no-contact Mystra, and he can't ever hope to get justice for what she did to him. Like it or not, he's stuck having to maintain a relationship with her. But he can establish boundaries. He can keep the relationship professional and polite and that's it. He can move on, reforge the old bonds Mystra cut, or form new ones.

And Astarion needs catharsis to truly move on. He's hurting, and he's hurt for what Cazador did to him, and it makes him angry. And while Astarion isn't the most outwardly altruistic of the bunch, he does recognize that he isn't Cazador's only victim and there will be more victims if he isn't stopped. His need for catharsis isn't just for his own healing, it's to stop someone who will hurt someone else.

EDIT:

I wanted to add that the game definitely reflects that there's no such thing as good victimhood nor is there such a thing as good recovery. People are going to recover on their own time. Sometimes that means cutting the people who hurt them out of their lives. Sometimes they can't and the only path forward is to redefine that relationship and establish boundaries with those who hurt them. Sometimes the only way to escape the violence done to them is through violence.